Inanimate (18 page)

“
All due respect sir we don’t
need to speculate about anything right now, we have it on tape, it
looks like a dummy!”

“
You’re right deputy. It does
look like a dummy.”

Oates
spoke calmly.

“
But dummies
are not capable of murder, they
are simply toys. Now, the quality of this video is not good. It
makes more sense that this is a child. Though I have to admit if
you asked me yesterday I would never have thought a child could be
capable of...”

A
realization hit him.

“
A child...”

“
What about it sir?”
asked
Lynch.

Oates
looked somber.

“
Andy Williams’
kid
…”

Instantly, without speaking
about it Lynch
knew exactly what Oates was referring to. The two had done
a good job sweeping the incident under Staunton’s rug but they
decided it would be best if they never spoke of it.

“
But isn’t his kid locked up
sheriff?”

“
Maybe not. I need to make a
call. Until we know otherwise, our official story is that the
investigation into suspects is still ongoing. Look Dorrian, I don’t
need to remind you how bad yesterday was. The last thing I want
after a high profile death is stories of psychotic children or even
worse, dolls getting out. Now I know you would never deliberately
go against my orders and leak this but I have to tell you anyway
how serious it would be if you did. Can I count on you?”

Lynch
breathed out, visibly
shaken.

“
Yes,
Sheriff, of course you
can.”

Oates nodded.

“
Good. Now take this video down
to the station and lock it up, I’m going to make a
call.”

Greg MacNamee felt he just had closed his
eyes when the phone rang. In truth, he had been sleeping for a few
hours now, but these days it seemed like his head was just hitting
the pillow before he had to get back up again. Not her usual jovial
self, Greta simply groaned and, as the phone was on Greg’s side she
had been woken up for no reason.

“
Yes, hello
?”

MacNamee answered
formally after
clearing his throat.

MacNamee
always answered the phone formally at
this time because ninety nine times out of a hundred it was the
hospital and he always felt it was important to remain
professional.

“
Hello,
Doctor MacNamee?”

“
Yes, who’s
this?”

“
This
is Sheriff Oates from the Staunton
police department.”

MacNamee
was surprised; he was not expecting
this. Sitting up in bed, disturbing Greta further he
responded:

“
Yes
Sheriff, what can I do for
you?”

“
Well, first of all I
apologize for
bothering you at home, I called Hallcombes and they put me through
to you. I would rather not discuss this with one of your
nurses.”

MacNamee
wasn’t bothered about being woken up
by important matters; it was the trivial ones that always got to
him. Like the day a young nurse called him at home to ask him where
they kept spare stethoscopes. He was not happy about that, however,
this seemed different.

“
It’s no bother
Sheriff. What would
you like to discuss?”

“
The Williams boy, he’s in your
care yes?”

“
Yes, that’s right.
M
yself and
another Doctor, Doctor Crass. He’s in the care of both of us. Why
do you ask?”

Suddenly the
realization hit MacNamee.
Sheriff Oates was the name on the police report listing Andy
Williams apparent cause of death. He must have been half asleep up
until a few moments ago not to realize this straight
away.

“
Can you tell me, is the boy
currently housed in Hallcombes?”

MacNamee was puzzled by this strange
question but he tried not to show it.

“
Yes, yes he
is.”

“
He
is physically in the building right
now?”

A little more put out now
MacNamee pushed for
the point

“
Yes, he
is in there right now Sheriff, I saw
him only a few hours ago.”

“
So you haven’t
seen him in the last
few hours? Is it possible you could send someone to his room and
make sure he is still in there for me?”

Now
MacNamee was really frustrated; this
made no sense and he did not appreciate being left in the dark with
issues concerning his patients.

“
Excuse me?
Sheriff Oates I can personally
assure you...”

“
Please
Doctor” interrupted Oates “I would
look upon it as a personal favor if you would send an orderly down
to check on him for me.”

Realizing
the Sheriff was persistent and
with the possibly murderous nature of the falsified accident report
on the back of his mind MacNamee grudgingly relented.

“
Alright
Sheriff, do you have a phone number I
can call you back on?”

MacNamee
was tired, he knew that was a dumb
question, of course he had a phone number he could be called back
on, he was the Sheriff. But this wasn’t the time to be caring about
such trivial things. MacNamee reached into the drawer of his
bedside table and took a pen and paper out. Scribbling down the
number he wondered if he would actually get any sleep that
night.

Down the long dark corridor of the west
wing of Hallcombes psychiatric hospital, right at the very end
there was an office where Tim Jackson has fallen asleep trying to
watch the fight on the little portable. He almost fell off his
chair startled when the vintage black phone rung, shaking profusely
as it did so. Blinking sleep from his eyes he answered
monotonously.

“
Hallcombes security
office
.”

“
Tim, were you sleeping
again?”

Tim
recognized MacNamee’s voice and
instantly relaxed.

“
No, sir, wide awake, performing
my duties
.”

“
Tim?”
asked MacNamee sternly.

“
Might have dozed off a little
sir.”

“
All that sitting tired you
out huh?”

Tim
chuckled.

“
It’s hell
.”

MacNamee
wasted no more time with small talk;
he would like to see the inside of his eyelids again
tonight.

“
Tim, I need you to do something
for me
…”

“
Sure Doc, wha
d’ya need?”

“
Go down to 101 and check on
Connor Williams for me.”

Tim didn’t want to
hear that; he would
just as happily never go down to see Connor at all.

“
Sure thing Doc;
am I looking for
anything in particular.”

“
Nope”
said MacNamee trying to be as
reassuring as possible “Just check on him for me.”

“
You only really notice echoes at
night”

Tim thought to himself as he
closed the office door b
ehind him. He often heard things echoing during
the day but it was only during the night he would be scared of
them. Something about the way the sound bounced off the walls down
the corridor unsettled him, emptiness unsettled him. “Why can’t I
just turn on the lights” he thought as he beat his flickering
flashlight against his hand until the beam stayed on. Doctor Crass
did not want lights to go on while patients were sleeping; the old
doctor had been called in too many times to calm down sick people
who were disturbed during rest. Besides, Crass never felt any need
to turn them on. There were flashlights in every office; more than
enough light for checking up on individual patients. Tim was
wishing for a little more now though. Normally he wouldn’t be
worried, but this kid was a notorious killer, he had heard rumors
that he was really smart and very cold to the Doctors. But, a job
was a job and Tim just wanted to get this over with as fast as
possible. Only a few feet down the corridor Tim stumbled down a
depression in the floor.

“
What in the
world…
?” He
cried out loud as he almost fell over. Whipping round the
flashlight he recoiled at what he saw.

“
What are those?” Again, he said
out loud, as if the volume of his voice would comfort him in some
way. The marks looked like paw prints but Tim knew that was very
unlikely. His eyes noticed something which prompted him to lift the
beam up to the wall beside the prints. His eyes widened as he
traced the long score all the way down the corridor wall. This
time, Tim did not say anything, instead he quickly but quietly
paced down the corridor, keeping the flashlight fixed halfway
between the floor and the wall. Not realizing he was now jogging he
finally reached “Room 101” trying to complete his task and get back
to the office as quickly as possible. With a swirl of the light,
Tim made sure he was alone in the corridor before looking through
Connor’s window. The darkness felt heavy, the silence was all he
could think about it. Normally you could hear patients snoring, or
beds’ squeaking as they tossed and turned but now, everything was
quiet. When he was sure he was alone he decided to check to see if
Connor was in bed as he should be. The light crept up the door
slowly; the last thing he wanted to do was wake the boy. He had
never done this before, shone a beam through a window at a patient
with the intent of not waking them and-as he was discovering-it
wasn’t as easy as one might think. The chequered safety glass made
him feel a little more at ease as the beam reached the floor beside
the bed. Moving silently up the bed he could make out a shape under
the blankets, but it could have just been ruffled. Moving up what
appeared to be the body he made out hands.

“
Oh thank God
!” he cried, his atheism being
no match for his relief.

Still, he
had to be sure they were the
boy’s hands in order to confirm Connor was actually in his room.
Moving the beam up slightly he peered closer to the glass. When the
beam reached a chin he still could not make out a face. Tim stole
an opportunity and quickly flicked the beam up over the face to
reveal Connor staring back at him; the boy’s gaze boring through
him causing him to lower the beam and step back.

“
Thank God
!” he repeated. Connor was already
awake but as long as the door was in between them he felt safe.
Taking a moment to compose himself he stepped back away from the
door. Moving the flashlight away from Connor’s room helped Tim
relax. With nothing to illuminate the room he was able to convince
himself there was no danger in there. However that logic did not
apply to the long open corridor he was still standing in. Feeling
incredibly vulnerable turned to head back to the office. Only a few
steps into his journey -in the dead silence-he started to hear
breathing behind him, heavy breathing. Turning round quickly Tim
shone his flashlight straight down the hall. He could not see
anything but he could feel something. The breathing echoed roughly
down the long corridor but he couldn’t figure out where it was
coming from. Feeling like it could be everywhere and nowhere at the
same time he knew it was too loud to be human.

“
Hello?”

His voice
echoed repeatedly down the
corridor and he was convinced some of the echoes were someone
else’s voice.

“
If anyone’s out there…identify
yourself now! I am armed!”

Tim’s bluff through a shaky
voice would intimidate no-one and so the breathing
continued. Trying to
hold his ground he could not be sure if it was coming from behind
him or in front of him. He was sure of one thing though, he did not
want to be standing there any longer.

“
Fuck this!” he
exclaimed and turned
back towards the office.

Running down the corridor his
hear
t raced,
the sound of his footsteps did nothing to drown out the heavy
breathing. The office approached fast as the large orderly bolted
down the long stretch of hallway. Grabbing the handle he pushed the
door open and slammed it behind him. He stepped back and watched
the door handle for a minute, making sure nothing was going to try
and enter. Out of breath and nervous, Tim decided to wait a moment
before calling MacNamee. Once he came to his senses he surmised he
was simply spooked by the darkness, especially as nothing had tried
to enter the office after him. He was reluctant to tell the doctor
he was scared so badly but he had to tell him about the marks on
the floor and the walls. The phone rung only for a second before
MacNamee picked it up.

“
Hello?”