single fluorescent tube illuminated an operating theater complete with heart-bypass machine, monitors, glass cabinets filled with vials and serums, and a single, T-shaped operating table.
He checked that everything was in order and ready for his guest before returning to his office. He picked up the phone and began to dial Senator Black’s personal number.
ROOM 517, HART SENATE OFFICE BUILDING
CONSTITUTION AVENUE, WASHINGTON DC
Please wait one moment, Detective.”
Tyrell stood in a plush corridor and considered the opulence around him as a young aide hurried into one of the Senate offices. He’d already waited two hours, but then he was a mere mortal walking among the most powerful men on Earth.
The United States of America was built upon the policy of all Americans being equal. The American Dream was supposedly their future, yet too many were born into unimaginable squalor and hardship, their lives expiring from a cocktail of drink, drugs, and sickness, like his older brother. The American Nightmare. It didn’t much matter whether you were black or white, Mexican or Latino; for the Phillies or the Knicks, a Fed or a Yankee. Life was gonna be short and would likely end much as it had begun: feeble, dependent, and flat broke.
“Detective, this way, please.”
Glass doors at the entrance to the two-story duplex suite were flanked by dark-blue flags bearing the Texas State emblem. Senator Isaiah Black extended a hand as Tyrell entered the suite, a bright smile painted across his permatan features. Tyrell relaxed a little as he looked into the senator’s eyes and judged that smile to be genuine.
“My apologies for arriving unannounced, Senator.”
“It’s no problem,” Black replied, gesturing to a chair. “But I’m due out in about ten minutes so this may have to be a little rushed.”
“That’s fine, sir,” Tyrell said. “I’ll be brief.”
Tyrell reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the images of the dead bodies from the Potomac projects, fanning them out across the senator’s desk before he sat down. Black froze with hands flat on the desk and legs half-bent.
“Three young men whose postmortems suggest they were murdered, the killings made to look like a drug-related act of misadventure.”
Black slowly sat down. “Do you know who they are?”
“All three have been identified. Two of them were petty criminals but the one in the middle was a respected scientist working in the District with no history of drug abuse. Do you know him?”
Senator Black shook his head, still looking at the gruesome images. Tyrell swept the photographs out of sight, eager to judge the senator’s expressions as he continued.
“The victims all suffered an illegal medical procedure designed to alter their genetic structure by contaminating them with foreign DNA.”
Senator Black’s jaw dropped like a stone. “You’re not serious.”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“Why are you here?”
“We believe that the procedures were financed by the American Evangelical Alliance, with the knowledge and consent of Pastor Kelvin Patterson, who believes the DNA to be that of angels known as Nephilim.”
Black’s face collapsed like a pile of granite slabs.
“Kelvin Patterson?” he repeated, his mouth moving slowly as though wrapping itself around the name. “That’s not possible. The pastor is a man of God.”
“Many have committed terrible crimes with God’s name on their lips,” Tyrell said. “That has been true for all of human history.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Black asked.
“I am trying to connect the events in the District with those in Israel. We believe that there is a link and we think it may be this man.” He handed the senator a picture of Dr. Damon Sheviz and decided to twist the screws a little. “I don’t want to expose you to any negative media at such a sensitive time in your campaign by applying for a subpoena from the district attorney. I thought it best that we should be able to speak privately about this first. Do you know or recognize this man?”
Senator Black looked at the picture and shook his head.
“Never seen him before in my life.”
“He’s a surgeon of some repute. He was here in DC at the time the murders were committed, working for one of the Evangelical Alliance’s churches, and has since traveled to Israel.”
Senator Black nodded slowly. He looked at the picture again.
“You remember something?” Tyrell prompted.
The senator shook his head. “No, I’ve never seen this man before, but …”
“Anything, no matter how trivial, may be worthwhile knowing.”
The senator looked out of his office window, trying to remember.
“Kelvin has spoken publicly of his support for Israel based on a biblical interpretation of