— Jack lived a life defined by asceticism - but not out a grand thought of denying himself the pleasures of life. There was little in life that he had wanted to obtain and keep for himself save for the territory he managed, the same territory he had grown up on. He settled there like a shark who had found its preferred hunting spot and would take violent measures to ensure that he stayed exactly in that location.
Yet, people caught his attention. The ones with interesting faces, or a story that held him back for a moment. Mrs. Han, who sadly died from an accidental overdose of her prescription drugs after she allegedly took the wrong ones. Her son had been heartbroken - he should have come around more often to help his mother manage her illness instead of depending on the kindness of the neighborhood. Then, there had been Lev - but truly it had been his friend. Then the friend died by suicide. Jimmy the Hot Dog Vendor with his sharp whistle and quick manner of speaking. They would play chess together.
(Jimmy would always have a place in the neublous void where Jack’s heart was supposed to be, not only did Jimmy have the best hot dogs in New York, his was the first murder he committed with Lee. Had he been a sentimental man, he might have marked the date on his calendar).
Nan and her assistance she gave him. Nan’s son, the one he had been friends with as children – … but first, before them all… Rafael Grace. A man who had never risen as high as he could, Jack knew, but had a kindness to him that marked him as a horribly ineffective police officer, as Rafel Grace had a heart. Jack had wanted to break that heart.
In all the ways that Jack wanted to devour the people who shown him kindness, to remove them from the earth so their kindness couldn’t turn to betrayal, he had hoped to see the detective before his death. He wished for the man to see the monster he had encouraged. The one who promised him that he thought could have a normal life if survived the reformation school with his heart and faith intact.
“Your grandfather was a good man, and we spoke a few times in my youth,” Jack explained, knowing that it would leave the door cracked open for the Grace grandson to prod, and Jack slowly fed out the line. “He had met me on my worse day and met me a couple times afterwards to encourage me to continue forward. What did he tell me, ah, I remember – but the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory…, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.” he misquoted, forgoing three important words. “1 Peter 5:10 - perhaps a favorite verse of his, but one I Kept close to my heart.” The best lie was mixed with truth.
Rafael Grace may be dead, but in front of him came Rafael Grace Incarnate, not a son carrying the sins of his father but a grandson, removed and knowing more of the man’s virtues than his vices. Jack would devour him and keep Elijah, as he could not keep Rafael – but first, he had to befriend him. “A true pleasure to meet you, Elijah Grace. I hope you can share more of your grandfather with me, perhaps its providence - if you follow the belief of your grandfather -” and you should, if you are like him “that I was able to give you some insight into a boring party.”
That there were people in New York that knew his family, if they didn’t simply know of his family, was like spitting and expecting to hit concrete and asphalt. There wasn’t a street alive that hadn’t been covered once or twice in the years the Graces had existed, serving the NYPD for generation after generation; when you were born a Grace, you were expected to be blue to the core. Even Elijah, for all his dourness, had always known he’d go into law enforcement. Not solely because it was impressed upon him by his father and mother, but because his only avenue was that. He was a decent person at heart, and weak when it came to family. Family, after all, was important.
His grandfather had been the most important of all; a good man, who had never amounted to much and who his mother had always been resentful of. He was always a softie, your grandfather, she’d sighed one Christmas mass, as if the words had to finally come from her chest lest she be consigned to sin forever. You have to be hard in this world, on this job, honey. It’s the only way.
And now before him, was a dead-eyed shark of a man who claimed to have known his grandfather. Not just his family, but Rafael Grace himself; a good man, a good grandfather. The family that Elijah wanted to be like, the kind of cop he felt he could be satisfied as. He leaned back in his seat and studied the guy, the lines of his face and the structure of his hands. They’d tell him of the era Jack grew up in -- no last name -- and the work he might do, the dangers he might present. He was an eerie guy, something unsettling about him -- but something about him also drew Elijah in.
Probably because of the ghost of his grandfather, the kind of man who would have looked at this guy and settled a hand on his shoulder.
“That was the manner of man my grandfather was,” he said cautiously, lured in all the same; curse it all, despite his hesitation, he was curious. Someone from outside of his family had knowledge of his grandfather, a man of good moral standing and deep secrets. “They said he was a dead-end cop, believed too much in the good of people - or at least, their ability to try to be good and improve.” He replied, eyes focused on Jack. “Boring parties are part of a recipe, in the end. Boredom’s alleviated in many a way, is my concern.”
And with some young folk he knew missing, it meant he had to rely on whomever he could. So, he slid a hand into his jacket pocket and offered Jack a polaroid: two soft-faced preteens, a boy and a girl - clearly twins - with bright teeth and street-strained eyes. “If you see them anywhere, let them know I’m looking for them, would you? If you want, you can even think of it as doing a favor for Rafael Grace’s memory. He’d be pleased to know you’re doing well.”
