There must be a mole

Chapter 29

I had heard the shocking news from Luke and immediately rushed to the prison where Paul had been held.

The prison was a massive, brutalist building situated in a remote and secluded location, far away from any populated areas. The exterior of the building was constructed with reinforced concrete walls, and the surrounding perimeter was topped with barbed wire and guarded by armed guards standing in watchtowers.

Inside the prison, CCTV cameras were installed in every cell block, corridor and common area, leaving no aspect of the inmates' lives unmonitored. These measures were supplemented by other state-of-the-art security measures, such as motion sensors, biometric scanners at the entry points to different wings and alarm systems.

Luke led me to the cell where Paul was staying before he was killed, pointed to some prominent bloodstains on the floor and explained, "This morning, Paul didn't emerge from his cell for ablutions, and the guards found him lying dead on the floor. It looks like the killer must have entered his cell and killed him in the middle of the night."

I surveyed every inch of the room as I listened to Luke. I pointed to two cameras fixed on the wall and asked him, "Didn't the surveillance tapes reveal anything unusual?"

Luke shook his head hopelessly.

I frowned and continued to probe, "In addition to the CCTV cameras, the prison has all kinds of surveillance and security systems, designed to prevent precisely this kind of incident from happening. I suspect the killer might be familiar with the set-up and is smart enough to work around these security measures. There must be a mole."

"Well, that's right. That's why his Majesty is furious about this." As Luke was talking, it was clear that someone was calling him through mindlink; he gestured to me to wait while he opened it.

Once Luke had finished his mindlink, I noticed that his expression was downbeat and deduced that there must be some more bad news. Luke confirmed my fears, "My men just found the dead body of one of the guards, and another has disappeared."

I was lost in thought: Paul is the key figure in this case so far; if he's dead, then he can be blamed for all wrongdoings - he is the perfect scapegoat. So who is the real big boss behind the scenes? Peter's patients are the only lead remaining now, and they seem to have no link to Paul.

With that in mind, I had a request for Luke, "Would you mind bringing me any of Peter's patients who had recently been reported as missing? I'd like to ask them something."

"Sure," Luke nodded.

The following morning, Luke phoned to tell me that he had collected six patients at my request, who had previously been reported missing and were now being treated in the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital, Luke greeted me and took me to the ward where these six patients were assembled.

As he pushed the door to the ward open Luke informed me, "These should be the last of the missing patients. My men tried to find out what had happened to them after they disappeared, but their nerves seemed to shot to pieces, and they couldn't recall anything."

I studied the patients who were sat in front of me, four men and two women. They all stared back with dull, lifeless eyes. Their listless demeanours soon turned into ones of terror, and they started to let out a harrowing scream: "NO, NO, NO!!!"

"Can I have a moment alone with them?" I asked Luke.

"Of course. But I must warn you that they have a tendency to suddenly lose their tempers and become dangerous, so please be careful," Luke warned.

"I will." Luke then left the ward and closed the door behind him.

It was now just me and the patients left in the ward. I needed to be alone as I had planned to use my magic to help them recover their memories and heal their mental trauma.

As I started my incantation, I subconsciously sensed my body beginning to dance, and I gradually seemed to be entering another world. In this dark land, I could hear demons laughing maniacally, and the patients shivering and moaning, "It's cold, it's so cold…"

After some time, the patients began to roll on the ground in pain, "It hurts so much. Don't…"

In a commanding voice, I shouted through the dark, "You demons, leave their bodies immediately or I will destroy you all!"

Soon, I found myself being released back into the brightness and returned to full consciousness again. I saw that the patients' eyes were no longer dull, but instead seemed to be glowing, and their deathly demeanour had been lifted.

I addressed them calmly, "So, can you remember for me where you were when you disappeared?"

A male patient in his twenties seemed to be the first to recover his memory and was the first to speak up. "I remember being blindfolded and sitting in a car, in the cold. I was then driven to a sort of laboratory where they – humans, I think – would keep forcing me to have me blood transfusions. I was constantly vomiting, and my entire body hurt like hell."

A thirty-something man then piped up: "I also remember two men coming in with masks and one woman referring to one of the men as 'Dad'."

"That's right, I also remember a woman saying 'Dad'," chimed in another patient.

I asked the patients, "Do you remember anything about Dentist Peter?"

"Dentist Peter is a great man, he filled my teeth for free. And my toothache would have killed me if Peter hadn't given me painkillers," said a young female patient, her face full of gratitude.

Another patient added, "Yes, Dentist Peter gave me root canal surgery for free, and the painkillers he gave me worked so well."

As I listened to them praising Peter, I found a recurring theme – 'painkillers'. These patients had all mentioned that the painkillers Peter had given them worked remarkably well; I asked, "Do you still have any of the painkillers Peter gave you? "

"They're long gone, because Peter hasn't seen me for a while. In fact, I really miss Peter's painkillers, they are amazing…" said the female patient with apparent regret, and the other patients shared her feelings.

It struck me as suspicious to hear such comments about painkillers, so I decided that we had better get our hands on some of these pills and find out what they were.

I instructed the nurses keep the patients under observation to see how long they stayed in the present positive frame of mind, and then went to discuss my findings with Luke, whom I found waiting for me outside the hospital's main lobby.

After I relayed to Luke what I had learned from my time with the patients, he informed me, "There were four patients on the list you gave me who should have been Peter's last patients before he died, but they had no missing records and seemed to be normal, so we can ask them if they had any experience of the painkillers."

"Let's go now, there's no time to lose!"

We drove into rogue territory and parked outside a dilapidated old house, which Luke explained was the home of Martin, one of Peter's last four patients, which he shared with eight other rogues.

The front door had been left ajar, and Luke and I entered cautiously. Two unkempt rogues were watching TV in the living room and immediately fled to hide in their own rooms as soon as they saw us.

I glimpsed rats in dark corners of the room and thick cobwebs on the walls, and it was clear that these wretched people were living in the most unhygienic and squalid of conditions.

We climbed the staircase and found Martin's room, and knocked on the door. After a short wait, a man in his twenties with straggly, shoulder-length hair opened the door with a casual yawn, as if he had just woken up from a nap.

"Are you Martin?" I asked.

When Martin realised that we knew who he was, he looked frightened and stammered, "Yes, that's me. What are you doing here?"

I asked him plainly, "We're investigating the death of Dentist Peter. Do you still have any of the painkillers Peter gave you?"

He nodded, picked up a small bottle from a plain wooden table and offered it to us, "There's just one left."

Luke took the bottle and advised me, "I don't think he's in great shape, I'll call someone here right away to take him for a check-up."

I had also just noticed that Martin was behaving in a fidgety, nervous way, as if he were under the influence some kind of drugs. Maybe his addiction may have kicked in, but we couldn't draw any conclusions until we had the results of the tests on the painkillers.

Over the next couple of days, we tracked down the three remaining patients, two of whom appeared normal and the another, similar to Martin, appeared to show the effects of drugs.

Luke mentioned me that not all of the rogues who had gone missing were found to be drug addicts; around half of them instead exhibited signs of mental illness.

Once Luke and I had concluded our business, I was driving home when I received a call from Jacob, "Bro, I'm in a bad mood, join me for a drink tonight."

"Okay." I replied.

"See you at the usual place!" Jacob said and hung up abruptly.

I had a feeling that Jacob wasn't being open with me, and I would have to find a way to prise his mouth open.