Asylum (18 page)

“Poor Felix. I hope he’s not too traumatized,” she said, turning to search the crowd. “Do you see him?”

“No,” Dan said. “I’m sure he’s being questioned by the police.”

“Gird your loins.” Yi was back. He slid up to them, talking out of the corner of his mouth. “I got Mulder and Scully on my six.”

Dan took a deep breath, preparing to unleash a whole mouthful of bullshit on officers of the law. They separated him from Abby, the policewoman taking her aside while Dan went with the tall guy. The whole process was surprisingly quick and painless. He was asked standard questions—where he was, what he heard and saw, if he could remember any strangers around the dorm that day. Dan answered vaguely, mentioning he was on the second floor with his friend, that he had seen Joe “earlier that day” but hadn’t noticed anyone suspicious loitering in Brookline.

“Thanks,” the cop told him when the questions ran out. “If you see anything strange, anything at all out of the ordinary, you tell someone. Okay, son?”

“Okay. Thanks, sir.”

Dan wandered away, numb. He had just lied through his teeth to a cop. Why? Exploring the basement wasn’t the same as murder, it just wasn’t. He had to keep reminding himself of that over and over again.
Forget about your freaking alibi, whoever did this is still out there.

The officer finished speaking to Abby a moment later. As Dan waited for her, he heard one of the cops talking to another in low tones.

“Probably some bum,” he was saying. “They’re always getting blind drunk and wandering up on to campus. We’ll find him in a bush outside, just you wait.”

Dan wondered how a stranger could get into the dorm, considering the front doors locked automatically from the outside.

“Could I have your attention please?” Dan recognized the director from the first couple of days. He had been all smiles then. Now he looked ragged, still rumpled from sleep, and shaken to the core.

“If I could have your attention,” he repeated, standing on the first step of the entranceway. The students quieted down and the police officers moved away.

“Thank you. All right, I know it’s been a difficult night for everyone. First thing in the morning, your parents will be notified of the situation. Right now, we need to do what’s best for you, our faculty, staff, and of course what’s best for Joe McMullan’s family. The police will conduct a full search of the building tonight, and an officer will be stationed on each floor to make certain you are all safe. I’m sure many of you have questions, and I’m happy to stay and assist you however I can. To the rest of you, be safe and vigilant, and cooperate fully with the Camford Police. And let us keep Joe’s family in our thoughts tonight.”

At this, the sound of crying rippled through the crowd. In front of Dan, two girls clung to each other, sobbing. Students swarmed around the director, shouting questions until he ordered them to calm down and speak one by one.

Dismissed by the policewoman, Abby walked over to Dan.

“I don’t think she even wrote down half of what I said. Whatever, I’m so ready for bed it’s not even funny, although I don’t suppose there’s any way I’m going to fall asleep.” She shuddered. “I wish this were just a nightmare that we could wake up from. Anyway, see you tomorrow?”

She took his hand and squeezed it. Dan squeezed back. “Yeah. Try to get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow. Text if you need me.”

With heavy steps, Abby followed a police officer who was leading the students to a back staircase to their rooms, since the main stairs were cordoned off with police tape. The body had been moved, but for the time being it was still a crime scene. Dan trudged up the stairs behind her, beyond exhausted, wishing he had a moment to properly remember their kiss and forget that he was at Brookline altogether. At Brookline where a murderer was wandering free.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

.....................................................................

CHAPTER

N
o
 24 

F
elix was not in the room when Dan got there.
Still being questioned by the police
, Dan thought. He was just wondering if they’d let Felix come back that night at all when the door opened, and Felix walked in. He immediately went to his bed, curled up on it, and hugged his knees to his chest. He was still wearing a T-shirt and running shorts. He looked vulnerable and scared.

“Oh God, Felix, I’m really sorry,” Dan said. “Nobody should have to see something like that.”

On the bed, Felix was shaking, rattling the whole bed frame.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Felix shook his head. It looked like if he opened his mouth he would start crying.

“If you need to talk or anything, you know where to find me. Anytime.”

Felix didn’t respond.

In a fog, Dan went through the motions of brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed. A police officer patrolled the hallway. His hand was on his holster. It made Dan walk very carefully down the hall.

Back in the room, Felix had, surprisingly, fallen asleep. Dan turned off the light and got into bed in the clothes he was wearing. He didn’t want to risk waking Felix by changing. Besides, it wasn’t like he would be able sleep anyway. As he lay down, he heard a crunching noise. He reached into the pouch of his hoodie and pulled out a few sheets of paper. He had no idea how they got there; dimly, he remembered seeing a set of cabinets in the operating amphitheater, but he had passed out with that vision before reaching them. Was this another memory gap? Weird, though, because he really couldn’t remember even making it across the room.

He had an odd thought. What if Abby had put them in his pocket while he was still unconscious? He knew that there had been papers on the ground when he came to. Did she read them and already know about Lucy? But surely she would have said something if she did. And he couldn’t think of any reason why she would have put the papers in his pocket.

There was enough light coming through the window that Dan didn’t need to switch on his bedside lamp. He smoothed the crumpled papers on his pillow. They were the same kind of memos that he’d already seen.

Dan reached the last piece of paper. The handwriting jumped out at him.

The warden.

A flash of inspiration this morning over breakfast—there is, I think, a way in which my ideas can live on forever. All men seek immortality in their own way, either through a legacy of children carrying their name and genetic material or through architecture or science, and this now is simply my search for a legacy like no other.

The work will be grisly, true. I’ve no doubt about that. Yet Michelangelo had his secret cadavers, and so too must I, an artist of a different sort, risk and sacrifice.…

So the warden had been performing grisly “sacrifices” on his patients. In order to create a legacy for his name. Dan thought back to the index cards they’d looked at in the warden’s office, so many of them with
N
under the Recovered box. How many operations had failed? How many patients had been needlessly subjected to pain and terror all for the sake of the warden searching for a kind of immortality?

There was more writing on the back. Dan turned it over and read on:

I’ve always hated that word—sacrifice. It conjures up images of savages beating drums around a fire. But sacrifices there must be, and how dear. And how dangerous.

That was the end of the entry. But there was one thing more, in the warden’s now familiar handwriting. A signature. Two words: “Daniel Crawford.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

.....................................................................

CHAPTER

N
o
 25 

T
he police found the man who’d killed Joe the next day, in a bar downtown with Joe’s wallet and a garrote. The director held a meeting in Wilfurd Commons to tell the student body that they were safe now, but that if any of them wanted to go home, they would get a full refund. Classes would resume the next day. There would be counselors standing by if students needed someone to talk to.

Dan found Abby and asked her if she wanted to go for a walk. The yard outside Wilfurd lacked its usual mob of kids playing Frisbee or lawn bowling. Everyone on campus was in a somber mood. They decided to get away from the campus for a while, so they took a path that led to the forest. As soon as they had gone a couple of yards, the air got cooler and the light dimmer from the riot of trees arching over them.

“How is Felix holding up?” Abby said after a while.

Dan shrugged. He didn’t really know. “He wasn’t there when I woke up, and I didn’t see him in the Commons. Maybe he’s seeing one of the counselors.”

“How about you? Feel ok?” Abby slipped her hand into his.

“Yeah,” Dan lied.
Tell her, tell her everything. Stop holding everything in
. But really, how could he tell her?
Hey, so it turns out there was this one warden behind all the horrible shit here, and oh, guess what, we have the same name. Oh, and I’ve been having these dreams like I’m seeing through his eyes. No biggie.

At least Dan finally knew why Sal Weathers and his wife had gotten so angry when he’d told them his name.

“Jordan’s not answering his phone,” Abby said, interrupting his thoughts. The pine needles crunched under their feet. “I texted him last night when I got to my room and again this morning. I assume
he heard the news that they found the guy, although I’m not sure he’s left his room. I got one reply: ߢbusy with homework.’ I don’t get why he’s being so strange. So unlike the kid I met on the bus.”

“Maybe he needs to be alone for a while. I mean, he
saw
the body.”

“Maybe … but I keep thinking about what Yi said, about us watching out for him. I’m just worried, you know? I worry,” she said. “I’ll try him again later. Can’t hurt to try, right?”

Dan didn’t see her for the rest of the day. Back in his room, he found himself staring at the wall, his thoughts in a jumble. When his phone rang in his pocket, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Chill out, Dan, it’s just your parents.

He picked up the phone, already knowing what was coming.

“Oh, Danny, we just got off the phone with your program director who tells us that a boy has been
killed
right in your very dorm, what is going on, do you need us to—” His mother’s voice came out in a panicked rush.

He jumped to interrupt her. “Hey, hey, listen—they
caught
the guy, okay?” He realized he was almost shouting and lowered his voice. “I’m fine. We’re all safe now. They’ve got counselors and stuff and they caught the guy who did it.”

“The director said they had a ‘suspect in custody,’” she said shrilly. “He didn’t sound nearly as sure as you do.”

Dan had to sound sure, not just for his mother, but for himself. It was hard to ignore that while he’d been out cold having a vision about the Sculptor, two floors up Joe was being, well,
sculpted
.

“If they really thought we were in danger, they’d shut down the program and send us home.” Dan spoke with as much authority as he could muster, desperately hoping Sandy would take him at his word.

“I suppose that’s true. I’m just … I’m just heartsick thinking of you there. You’re with your friends? You’re okay?”

“I’m okay. And Abby and Jordan are, too.”
Sort of.
“I promise.”