The Phone call

'And?'

' "Marriage. Doesn't think he's catering for his wife's needs sexually. Symptoms: searches the internet for help tips and drugs to assist him". Doctor Jacob diagnosed it as low self-esteem and social anxiety. I guess he was yet to decide the cure.'

Inspector Charles said, 'Why do most of the doctor's patients only have marriage problems? You'd actually think that for a guy who tries to fix marriages, he'd keep his intact.' The inspector laid his forehead on the desk. He was now facing the floor. 'This can't be the end, James.'

James replied, 'I'm sorry, sir but Jevez is the last file.' He snapped it shut and laid it on top of the three-foot stack.

'Then what will we do, James? Where do we go from here? This snake has us in a whirlwind with our tails tucked between our legs.' He began to bang his forehead slowly against the edge of the desk. He continued, 'No fingerprints, no foot prints, no semen or DNA, no nothing. All the evidence you'd expect a serial killer to leave for the cops, this guy kept for himself. He's probably laughing at us from wherever he is.' He banged his head harder on the table.

'So, what do we tell the public, sir?' James asked.

He grunted. 'We'll have to tell them everything, James. What else can we do? We'll just have to accept whatever hell they decide to throw at us.'

'I guess…' James shifted nervously in his seat, '…this means we can call the big boys upstairs?'

Charles waited. Finally, he murmured, 'Yeah.'

'Right away, sir.' He stood up and began to gather the enormous pile of files into his hands. He dropped one onto the floor by mistake. He put back the pile on the desk then reached for it. His eyes glared at the cover. His eyes narrowed a little. He opened it. 'I'm sorry, sir, but I think I may have overlooked one last file.'

'What does it matter, James?' asked the inspector his eyes still on the floor. 'It's a dead end.'

'Sir, isn't Priscilla Murphy the same Priscilla who escaped from Breechwood Asylum…the same Priscilla we're currently searching for?'

The inspector raised his head. His eyes met James'. 'That's her file you're holding?' he asked him.

James nodded flipping through the pages slowly. He said, 'The file looks a bit old though. Some of the dates in here go back to ten-eleven years ago.'

The inspector nodded his head. He was thinking. Finally he said, 'Priscilla went delusional when her boyfriend put a bullet through his own head in front of his own son. I don't know what exactly inspired her to turn her rage against the kid. That's what got her locked up in the asylum. Doctor Jacob evaluated her. Said she had a schizophrenia of some sort.'

'That's correct,' James nodded as his eyes made their way down the page. 'It says schizophrenia and acute memory loss. He also added more to the list: paranoia, bi-polar disorder, multi-personality disorder, social anxiety and other conditions I doubt I could pronounce.'

Inspector Charles placed a finger on his chin. He was thinking again. 'I guess the doctor wasn't really certain what was wrong with her. Maybe that's why she stayed in there for so long?'

Deputy James read further, 'Listen to this, sir: "It is probable that the patient may have dyslexia but considering her scholarly achievements and unusually high IQ, I am inclined to think otherwise. Patient displays symptoms of not only schizophrenia, amnesia and the others mentioned above, but she also displays symptoms of what seems to be OCD, ADD and what may be arthritis and quite vexingly; a disease that affects people that are past the age of fifty: Parkinson's disease. Conclusion: yet to be diagnosed".'

Inspector Charles immediately stood up and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He was staring at the floor. He was lost in thought once again. He looked at his deputy and said, 'I think we could be on to something here, James.'

James closed the file and placed it on the desk. 'I see where you're going with this, sir; that she escaped and killed the doctor. We could dig deeper into that and probably find a gold nugget but what about the other two victims? Why would Priscilla Murphy kill a student and a teacher?'

The inspector instantly began snapping his fingers at James. He was grinning. 'James, James, James. Think! Foyer and Bale were from where?'

'Excuse me, sir?'

'James. Justin Foyer was a student at Malrich High School. And Brittany Bale..?' He flashed his yellow teeth at his partner, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

'Malrich High School,' said James. 'But I still don't get it, sir. Why would she kill them?'

'Remember the last two students we interviewed at that school, James?'

'Of course, sir. Clarissa Sherman and that other kid. That boy, Sineas.'

'Last name Murphy!' the inspector said, slamming his palms triumphantly on top of the desk.

James' eyes widened in astonishment, but only for a moment. 'But sir; why would she kill the two though? It still doesn't make sense.'

Inspector Charles rubbed his hands together gleefully. 'Well, James…that is where we come in.'

*

Sineas was awoken by a buzz not too far from his ear. He slowly opened his eyes. It was his cell phone, spinning doughnuts on top of his drawer. He wondered angrily who could be calling him at this time of the night. Still partially blind to his surroundings, he groped around in the direction of the buzz. After several attempts, he finally grabbed it. The phone claimed that it was now daytime. 8:03 A.M to be precise. The caller? Clarissa.

Sineas' heart paused for a fraction of a second then recovered its rhythm. He sat up in the bed and pressed the phone against his ear. 'Morning,' he said whilst trying to rub sleep from his eyes.

Clarissa laughed out loud. 'You sound tired!' She gasped, 'Oh, my gosh, Sin, are you still in bed?!'

Damn she's loud, Sineas thought. He smiled. 'Don't you dare judge me; I had a very long day yesterday.'

'So you're seriously going to blame that beautiful day for your laziness?'

He grinned. 'No. I blame the girl.'

She snickered. 'What did she do?'

'She kept me busy. She actually had my full and undivided attention.'

'Did she deserve it?'

He retained his answer for a moment. 'Perhaps,' he answered.

She laughed nervously. 'Will you be there tomorrow? At school? It's the Foyer and Bale memorial, remember? '

'Oh…that. The memorial thingy.' He rubbed his eyes again. 'Of course I'll be there.'

'You don't have to pretend, Sin. You don't have to pretend that you liked the guy. You just have to show up to prove to people that you're much more than what they think of you.'

He paused. Then, 'Yeah, yeah…sure,' he almost mumbled.

'Good. That's my champion,' she laughed. 'Kisses!' She hung up.

Sineas threw the phone back on top of the cupboard. He had neither the time nor the strength to ponder over how strangely she had concluded the conversation. He pulled the covers over his body. As soon as he closed his eyes, his phone started buzzing again.

He gritted his teeth. The exhausted part of him hated Clarissa. Nevertheless, he grabbed his phone again.

'What?' he mumbled.

'Sin, my boy, it's me.'