“I don’t know what to do, Doc!”
That’s the first thing he told me as soon as he got in my office and closed the door. The scared look in his eyes, tired with missed sleep, told me what I had been fearing all week: James is really convinced that the explosion at the warehouse was somehow his fault, or that he is guilty of some of the acts (still largely unknown) which brought to said explosion. He had been crying, his foot was bumping on the floor while he was standing in front of my desk: he didn’t even want to sit down.
James: “I had to tell my parents, because they realized that something was horribly off with me and they were worried that I was having another hypomaniac attack. I didn’t expect that knowing that I was instead involved in the murder of several people would have calmed them down, and in fact it didn’t. At all. Now they’re frightened, too. I think I made a mistake: I should have just left them alone.”
Myself: “I think you had to be honest with them and share your troubles: I’m sure it made you feel better, and maybe they can help you.”
James: “How?! There’s nothing to do! I need to go to the police.”
I have no idea of how the police would take such a case, the only thing I can think of is how Detective Mason is handling Mrs. F’s disappearance: he sees murder even where we should just see a woman following her dream. What would he see in James? Probably someone who is so guilty, and scared of going to jail, that he has even invented the whole hypomania story, to pledge for mental infirmity.
Myself: “I don’t think you have to go to the police: you’ve done nothing wrong for now, as far as we know. That blurry picture taken at the warehouse could be of anybody: you’re blond and tall, a quarter of the population of this city can probably say the same about themselves.”
James: “You’re forgetting the green jacket: I’m sure much less than a quarter of the population has the same!”
Myself: “Are you sure it’s your jacket? And even if it were, there must be so many men with the same model, in a city with ten million people. No, I think we need to understand what really happened, first, then we can decide what we want to do.”
James: “Do you want to investigate yourself?”
Myself: “I’m not a detective, unfortunately, and I don’t know if my investigations could bring us anywhere. Instead, if your family has a lawyer, this would be the best person to call.”
James: “I would assume my parents have somebody, but I’ll have to ask them.”
There are so many uncertainties here. I think a lawyer, with hopefully good investigating abilities, can help us find some answers.
Waiting to see what the future holds,
Dr. Alexander Williams