Dortmund Hibernate

Home > Other > Dortmund Hibernate > Page 9
Dortmund Hibernate Page 9

by C. J. Sutton


  “Don’t know. The prick wasn’t waiting for me outside the hotel for once. That hill,” he said, pointing downward and bending over, “is steeper than it looks.”

  Brian ushered Magnus in with a giant paw, patting him on the back.

  “Who do I have first?” he asked as they walked through the dark hall.

  “That’s Walter’s call, he’s not here yet. Carter called in ill, poor old man, told him to lay off the drink. Shirley is late too…it’s no fun being alone in the nuthouse.”

  The laughter rose again, and Magnus was too afraid to ask Brian if he heard it also. Were the invisible walls closing in on them?

  “What’s his deal?”

  “Who, Walter or Carter?” said Brian, surprised.

  “Boss man.”

  Magnus remembered the look on Walter’s face as he stood like a stone gargoyle while the meeting with Brutus took place.

  “Walter…is a proud man. Many, such as Carter and Shirley, work here for the money. Not Walter. Sure he gets paid the same, but he arrives with purpose. I’ll always have time for him. I’ll tell you something: one day, Jasper breaks out, again. He has a knife against my throat. I’m on my knees, trying to hold back the tears…the stories…he’s talking to Shirley, taunting her, she’s trying not to show fear. I consider myself quite strong, but I can’t move, he’s pinned me perfectly and he’s not shaking like I am. Walter, he just walks out so calm from the social room, staring at me. He doesn’t look to Jasper, he knows that’s part of his game. And he talks to me, tells me everything is fine, that the inmate will let me go because he’s outnumbered. That there’s no car on the premises, and the only guns are hidden. He’s called the police, and they have surrounded the facility. He says, ‘If the inmate is wise, he’ll understand that this isn’t the time to escape. If he wants to survive the day, he’ll go back to his cell and wait for a better opportunity’. Shirley doesn’t think this will work, I can see it in her eyes. But Jasper, he laughs and lets me go; tells me to have a few beers when I get home. And he walks back to his cell laughing. We don’t know how he got out, but he just went and sat in the corner. It was a rock meeting a hard place, and the rock won. He’s the most selfless person I know.”

  The social room was as eerie as the rest of the facility; no Shirley making tea, no Carter sipping from a flask, no Walter leaning against the wall waiting for a prison riot. It was just Brian and Magnus chatting, one man large and the other a doctor, wondering what role to play today. The pantry was open with no food, the coffee pot deprived of warm liquid that kept the monsters at bay.

  “Want me to make some?” said Brian, a mind reader. Magnus slumped against a chair, a deep ache in his calves, an itch in his groin region; Lee had outdone herself.

  “Yeah, I need it.”

  The walk had allowed time for thought, despite the effort of professional shoes on unprofessional ground. Magnus felt rocks sliding against skin inside his sock, but didn’t want to remove any clothing. Old Man Lonie…the trick they used, the alibi, the reason for all that didn’t make sense. And because they were condemned as mad, the claim got them off the hook.

  “So Lonie, you know nothing about him?” asked Magnus, pulling out a pen and paper from his bag and crossing his legs. Brian had his back turned, a Hulk in the kitchen.

  “I know he lacks a few senses, but before that he was a chameleon, blending into the environment. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gouged himself, just to make all this easier.”

  “But—”

  Before Magnus could answer, Walter burst into the room holding a radio. He held it outward, his chest heaving.

  “…Death in Dortmund. We live the quiet life, known for our zoo and our simple way of life. Living away from the big city generally means we avoid the catastrophes. But early this morning a body was found in the Galdot River two kilometres out of town by a Good Samaritan. The identity is yet to be confirmed, but the body was strapped inside a car with lacerations to the back of the head. Stay tuned; more details as they arrive. Stay safe, Dortmund.”

  Walter looked from Brian to Magnus, almost expecting a confession. The big guard appeared shocked, but Magnus tapped his pen on the paper, wanting to continue the questions about Lonie.

  “You don’t seem too worried, doc,” said Walter, turning off the radio and throwing it on the counter. The sound made Brian fumble his coffee. He handed the other cup to Magnus.

  “I’m used to waking up to this kind of news every morning. You could say I’m desensitised. What are the cops saying?”

  “Murder,” came the reply, quick and bitter.

  “Well, cops deal with murder; we deal with the criminally insane. The sun still sets, the wind still blows.”

  A Dance

  Women require a different approach, Magnus. Talk little; move less. Don’t smile.

  “You been thinking about me?” teased Astrid, dancing the waltz with an invisible mate in the far right corner of her cell, light glistening off the toilet seat, a warped disco ball. She hummed a tune that sounded familiar to Magnus, but this wasn’t a guessing game. Each step soft, careful, learned, sultry.

  “Your case, yes,” he lied, her tight body converging on his sex with Lee, still vivid, flashing like post trauma.

  “Doc,” she whined, “I mean about me, not what I’ve done.”

  Magnus pondered what would happen if he admitted the truth…and then he tossed caution to the dark corner of the room.

  “You’re right,” he confessed, “I do think about you. I was having sex with a prostitute, and your face replaced hers.”

  Her waltz stopped, and the female inmate pivoted to face her doctor. Surprise was quickly replaced by confidence, her chest rising, her rear curving further outward. She pranced up to the bars, licking her upper lip.

  “About time. I thought you were gay, like that bastard Principal.”

  Like a fish taking cheap bait, the glaze over her eyes suggested full attention.

  “I have something to ask you,” he said, lowering his voice and pretending to search for Walter outside, who he knew was busy in the cell of Chaos. “Nobody wants to help me, but you will, won’t you?”

  “Depends,” came the flirtation, another two buttons undone, and Magnus had to wrestle with himself to stay on track. “What’s in it for me?”

  The sun was already setting; little light graced his life these days.

  “I’ll unlock the cell with this key,” he said, pulling out the master key from his pocket and flashing it to his patient, “and you can do whatever you like to me in our next session together, how does that sound…baby?”

  The final word was like a presentation of the brightest flowers in the florist, masking his awkward use of the word. She beamed, grasped the bars and pressed her body against the cool of metal.

  “Naughty, honey. Very naughty. That’s slightly unfair, because you get something out of that also…”

  But she was all in now, waiting for his question or request. Their eyes locked, and Magnus fought temptation.

  “Any news come through the facility today?”

  “Death in the town, I hear.”

  “Who told you that little piece of information?”

  Their minds danced, like the waltz from minutes prior, and Astrid tilted her head in puzzlement.

  “You haven’t worked it all out yet? Doc, you disappoint me.”

  Magnus fought to keep the frustration at bay. The want of Astrid fell away, searing chicken off the bone. Mission overtook sexual desire; for if he needed relief, he had a place and a person much more capable, set in a freedom with no view of hell.

  “Tell me, Astrid, who told you about the death?”

  The power changed hands, the inmate loving the game and pressing a bar between her cleavage.

  “I answered one question successfully, did I not? It’s one-for-one in our world. Now, unlock that door and bring that body in here…you’re almost child-like in size, it’ll be so much fun!”

  “Fuck
you,” he spat, tucking the key away. “Where did you get the info?”

  But in his frustration he leaned too close. Like a snake, Astrid’s right arm shot out of the cell and clamped on his penis. Every move and twist made to wriggle free brought more pain. Magnus was unable to shift his arms and legs, paralysed.

  “I could’ve given this thing such pleasure…but you tried to play me. Now you’ll feel pain. When someone chooses not to satisfy me, they usually die. Don’t take me for some dumb broad. I have you in the palm of my hand, literally.”

  She giggled, and Magnus was a statue. The slightest tilt was a lit match pressed against his manhood. Never had he felt this warm, and never had he felt this vulnerable.

  “I…I…” he stammered, held by a mass murderer with nobody to lend a hand, for his speech left him to fight without the power of word. Astrid’s taunts were all image; flaunting body that would’ve been his, had he wanted it. Now it resembled castration.

  Deep breath…one…two…three…the knife an inch away from his right hand…find a way back…

  “It wasn’t the fault of the teens,” he managed, a squeak at first that strengthened with each new syllable. “It’s you…you’re afraid of perception. The reason they couldn’t satisfy you, was because you’re broken. And you are, Astrid Ellen, you’re a teacher that lacks the ability to teach her students even in fields you feel you master. The Principal, he satisfies and can be satisfied. Those teens, they can be satisfied…but you, you’re broken. A broken toy that nobody would use, had they known.”

  At first the grip tightened. But her rage became pain, lessening her hold. Magnus whipped out the knife and slashed her forearm. Astrid lost the clamp, but the infliction didn’t cause her to flinch. The words, they diced marks into her soul.

  “No…they wanted me…you want me…” She nodded, hopeful, ripping off her top, grabbing her breasts and presenting them like ripe apples at a corner shop; Apples…Get your apples here!

  “You have your chance to be useful, Astrid. And it isn’t for your body. It’s your mind I want, right now. That’s pleasure, to me. Your body,” he said, curling a lip, “is mirrored in the free world. It may work on aged doctors, but not on me.”

  The scream was deafening, as Astrid pounded on the metal bars with her fists, then her forehead, splitting skin above the eyebrow as it spilled onto her naked parts. Magnus sheathed the knife, hid the key and stood as near to the bars as he could without being in a position to be groped again.

  “Give me a name,” he said, as she kicked at the boundaries, hair wild, eyes bloodshot. “Just give me a name.”

  Astrid Ellen, former teacher of Gertrude High, panted with a calloused gaze locked on her doctor. She walked to a far corner, face covered in crimson, and sat with her knees up, rocking back and forth. The sound of wet hitting the floor, like a tap left on in a dorm, echoed in the room. Seconds ticked by, her head down, but then it lifted, a new personality.

  “If you want answers, ask Jasper.”

  Rise

  Nobody cares about the happy people. They don’t concern us, Magnus. How boring, to have no issues in this manic world of chaos and greed. How sick, they must be.

  With the master key Magnus let himself out of Astrid’s room, trying to be silent despite the previous wail of his patient. He listened…nothing. Had nobody heard the commotion? Jasper’s cell wasn’t far, but being caught in the act by Walter worried him. The guard wouldn’t understand.

  Magnus shuffled slowly, aware that at least two guards were in the facility. He’d have to pass the social room to reach the notorious inmate. Magnus knew that Jasper would play the game, and enjoy it, but it was time for answers. The social room door was slightly ajar, the yellowish tinge filtering out through the crack. Sounds of kitchenware in use. He walked…and the door swung open.

  “Doctor?”

  “Ah, yes, I’m just on my way to see a patient.”

  “Who’s next?” asked Brian, standing with a kettle in his hand. Digits would’ve salivated over using such an appliance on his day of doom.

  “Claude Simmonds,” he lied.

  “Need a hand at all?”

  “Nah,” he replied, noticing Brian was slightly spooked. “You okay?”

  “This whole death thing, means we have a murderer around.”

  Magnus suppressed laughter.

  “Murderer? Do I need remind you where you work, and whom you work around every day?”

  The giant leaned in, his breath of sour coffee.

  “Different when they’re locked up, and we know who they are, you know?”

  Magnus peered over Brian’s shoulder.

  “Where’s Walt?”

  “Outside. Police are here, questioning. They want me next. Then you.”

  Tick tock, doc.

  “Very well, I’ll have my session with Simmonds and then be outside.”

  Brian smiled, forced, and retreated into the social room. Magnus knew time was dripping away like the blood from Astrid’s cut, so he dashed towards Jasper’s room, unlocked the door with his master key and ducked through, slamming it shut and locking it again.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t my favourite doctor, come to analyse my crazy mind.”

  Jasper was chirpy, moving his head from left to right like a blind man in the wind. He remained clamped to the floor, arms behind, feet ahead, beard touching his crotch.

  “I don’t have long. I’m guessing you’ve heard about the death in town?”

  “Out of town by a few kilometres, if we’re being exact,” he said, all smiles.

  “Fine, whatever. Who told you that and at what time?”

  “Time?” he laughed. “Oh, I’ll just check my imaginary watch shall I? The question you should be asking, detective, is not who told me, but who died.”

  Magnus realised who died hadn’t even bothered to climb into his psyche. In one hand he held the master key, which was leaving a dent in his skin.

  “Probably some Dortmund local too pissed to drive straight. That’s not why I’m here, I—”

  With eyes closed, Jasper was shaking his head, a shade of disappointment dawning.

  “If you knew who it was, you wouldn’t be saying that, buddy.”

  With a sigh, Magnus took a seat and knew the expectation; play the game for answers. Very little life graced the cell, if any at all. Shadows conversed.

  “Well?” boomed Magnus, his leg shaking impatiently, a twitch gained in Dortmund.

  “The man was found dead in his car, in a river, but it wasn’t the water that killed him. Oh no, this man was beaten over the head from behind while he was driving. Someone lost their cool with the victim, and the victim is known quite well to you; most people in town know this.”

  Magnus felt his stomach churn.

  “The dead man is your taxi driver, buddy. Killed doing what he did best, right?”

  Magnus leaned over, and suddenly there appeared to be no air left in the room.

  “Did it feel good, cutting into the back of his skull with your blade? Carving your annoyance into the old citizen with every inch of frustration Dortmund has given?”

  The room, a carousel, no melody but the voice of the driver, and all Magnus could do to stay connected to the ground was to grasp the chair and leave his knuckles white. And then came a low laugh, deep, all guttural, before a cackle shattered the torment.

  “You should see your face, doc, it’s priceless. I mean you’d think I just stabbed your sister or something. Yeah, I know all about your past, too; you’ve been letting your hair down with the guards. Buddy, you don’t have it in you to kill. You’re not sick like us loonies. We do it for a range of reasons, none of which would appeal to that delightful mind. The killer, my friend, was one of the nine.”

  Suddenly the master key felt one hundred kilograms heavy in his hand. Had he unlocked a cell to allow the death to take place? Wouldn’t he remember such an act?

  “So many questions, going through your mind. So much worry, fear, pain
. I’m in a rotting building away from civilisation, strapped to a hard, cold floor…yet I feel more free than you right now. Isn’t it funny! Why don’t you see the humour in it all?”

  What was worse? Killing the undercover taxi driver with his own knife, or letting out a criminally insane inmate to do the deed?

  “The cops are talking to Walter right now,” said Magnus aloud, the gargoyle inmate his only council. “Once he knows who died, he’ll suspect me. Walter knows the pain the driver was causing by stalking my every move. And if he tells the cops…”

  The shackles smashed against the cold floor as Jasper tried to rise, eyes wild with excitement.

  “Walter will ask you straight out, and you’ll lie; you’re great at lying, aren’t you? But he won’t let you out of his sight. Let us all out, let us kill him, and Brian, and take the focus away from the dead driver and the whodunit episode of Law and Order. While we’re playing with Dortmund, make your escape.”

  With the master key in his hand, nothing would have been easier…

  “No,” said Magnus, standing. “I have nothing to fear. I didn’t kill the driver. I didn’t let out an inmate to kill him, either. You’re playing with my fucking head, and I’m not buying it, not one bit.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, doc,” said Jasper, indifferent.

  Magnus leaned in to the glass, his nose touching the surface.

  “You’ve been planning my demise all along, giving me the key to make me a scapegoat, you probably had the driver killed to force my hand. But I’m still free, and you’re shackled to the floor like a beast.”

  Jasper puffed, frowned, and rose. The shackles fell away, clinking against the floor. In seconds he was standing, cracking his neck. And he shrugged his shoulders, as if he’d performed a Houdini. Magnus couldn’t believe his eyes.

  “You can listen to me, or you can leave this room taking no advice. You have a master key and a knife with blood on it, and you can’t hide that in the Asylum. The cops are outside, Walter with them, and there’s no way to escape without detection. Best you put that game face on, buddy, because shit already hit the fan; it is about to smear down the walls.”

 

‹ Prev