Page 24

“Why do you say that, Doctor Whitmore?” Will said, moving uncomfortably in a wooden chair.
“Because we carefully vet all of our employees and staff,” the doctor said.
“But the staff are most likely to know about the problem with the cameras?” Charlie observed, feeling the impatience in his own voice.
“Yes,” said Doctor Whitmore. “Older patients, however, know the layout of this place as much as anyone. And we’re an open retreat. We don’t have very much security. Just a couple of guards and even then, people come and go. You’ve seen the gates opened outside. It’s one of the ways we promote a relaxed feeling here.”
“I wandered through the communal area earlier,” Will said, leaning forward in his chair, arms folded. “There were bars on the windows. That seems higher security than you’re letting on.”
“Oh, yes,” he answered. “We encourage all of our patients to mix with each other as much as possible in the communal area, but there have been previous times where altercations have occurred. I won’t bore you with the details, but one of our patients had a psychotic break in the communal area and tried to squeeze through a broken window.
“He cut himself up badly. We had the windows barred and reinforced after that to stop that from happening again. It also means that we can be sure to secure the communal area if we ever have to, like during a larger disturbance. Thankfully, we’ve never had to do that, yet.”
Charlie sat up in his seat. He was frustrated that they weren’t going to get access to the employee and patient records without a fight, but the fact that a patient had reacted so violently made him wonder if it could be a lead.
“This patient, the one who cut himself on the window, is he still here?”
“Sadly, he is no longer with us.”
“He moved on?” Will asked.
“No, he isno longer with us,” Doctor Whitmore repeated.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Charlie offered. “How did he pass on?”
“He took his own life,” Doctor Whitmore explained. “It’s a horrible part of this job. For every successful treatment, there are several cases that end in tragedy.”
Charlie felt Doctor Whitmore’s pain. He clearly took it personally whenever something bad happened with patients there. And to Charlie, he was everything a doctor should be.
“We’ll have to get a warrant for those files,” Charlie said.
“Please do,” Doctor Whitmore agreed. “I think it’s scandalous that the Board won’t at least release the names of our employees and patients to you. I wish there was something else I could do.” He slumped down in his chair, defeated.
“I’ll message my boss, Jackson Weller,” Charlie explained. “He can be persuasive. We’ll see if he can make the Board change their minds.”
“That would be excellent,” said Doctor Whitmore.
“You might still be able to help, though,” Charlie said. “We’re looking to speak with the other patients who Gillian spent the most time with. We’d like to speak to them, with your permission.”
The doctor’s eyes lit up. “Yes, Icando that. Gillian was quite a solitary person. She had visions of demonic creatures, and unfortunately, when those visions were at their worst, she believed her fellow patients were possessed.”
Will nodded, knowingly. “So, she stayed away from making relationships with people in here out of fear?”
“Yes,” Doctor Whitmore answered, sadly. “But there was one exception. A man named Jordie Fallon. I certainly saw them playing checkers on more than one occasion in the communal hall.”
He looked at his watch.
“In fact, it’s likely that he’s in there right now.”
“Excellent,” Charlie stood up. “We’ll go and interview him.”
“Be warned, however,” Doctor Whitmore cautioned. “He suffers from extreme anxiety.”
“Social, general, or health anxiety?” Will asked.
“A bit of everything, I’m afraid,” the doctor answered. “And when he goes into a spin under pressure, he can shut down completely.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” said Charlie. “We’ll go and talk to him.”