The Fear Dissertation // A Jonathan Crane Dark Romance

7

The house is eerily quiet that evening. The wind howls and rain slashes against the windows, brief sears of lightning casting a sheet across the sky. I huddle on a corner of the couch with a cup of tea, and buy a ticket online to Harleen's upcoming gymnastics tournament.

All the while, I wait. Wait for Matt. For a phone call, some form of news. Something. Anything.

My phone rings, still in my hand. Matt's mother. I quickly enter my payment details for Harleen's tournament and answer, my hands trembling.

"Hello?"

"Sienna? Oh, thank goodness." Her voice is thick with tears. "Have the police called? Have you seen the footage?"

My blood cools. "Footage? No, I haven't heard anything. What happened?"

She's quiet a moment. I realise this isn't a good sign — that the police aren't divulging updates to me.

"They found surveillance footage of Matthew. Boarding the train headed west... He... He got out at the stop nearest us. But they haven't been able to track his movements since."

The clenched fist grasping my lungs loosens just slightly. But replacing it, confusion. "Had you spoken to him?"

"Not for days. Not since congratulating him on the Wayne deal."

There are no words for me to say. Quietly, I manage, "I really hope we find him soon."

When I head into my bedroom, I freeze. Lying there, on top of my pillow, is a thick, black feather. A crow's feather.

I stare at it for a moment. Walk across to it slowly. Take it in my hands, running my thumb across the plume. And then, blaming a breeze that has no chance of penetrating the ever-locked windows for its presence in this room, I toss it into the rubbish, and toss it from my mind.

The only reasonable explanation is that I'm losing the plot. And I can't afford to go crazy.

***

Penny and Brooks rap on my front door the next morning.

"I need to leave for work at half past," I tell them, with a quick glance to the clock as I pour coffee.

"Not to worry, Miss Moore. This won't take long." Penny tilts his head. "Your friend not here this morning?"

"I'm afraid not." I take my mug in my hands and look them both in the eye. "Have you heard anything?"

Penny nods. "Come see this."

Sat in the living room, he hands me an iPad. Just like Matt's mom said, there's video footage of Matt on the train. But... he's not himself. I realise this quickly, a frown crossing my face. He's hunched over. Nervous, twitching. Muttering something to himself.

"What's he saying?" I ask.

"Afraid we don't have audio. Analytics are working on deciphering his lip movements." Penny hesitates. "Miss Moore, this footage was delivered to us. Personally and anonymously. Is it possible he's been targeted by a patient from the asylum? Or one of their associates?"

I think for a moment. "I can't imagine who."

"Are you working on any high-profile cases?"

"Basil Karlo."

Brooks tilts his head. "The actor?"

I nod. "But why would an associate of Baz want to hurt Matt? I haven't received any... Any demands, or anything."

Penny nods. "I understand. Even so, we'd like to subpoena your patient files."

My mouth drops open. "No. No way."

He heaves a sigh. "Miss Moore, you really don't have a choice."

"Breach patient confidentiality? I would become a laughingstock in my field. With all due respect, officers," I stand to my feet, "You aren't going to subpoena shit. You have absolutely no grounds to believe a patient of mine would harbour a grudge against Matt. And may I ask, why are you not looking into his business relationships? His grudges? He just took Wayne Enterprises public. Have you investigated that at all?"

Brooks, at least, has the grace to look sheepish. But Penny sets his jaw. Squares his broad shoulders. Runs his fingers across his moustache.

"This is connected to that Asylum," he says. "I just know it."

"You seemed awfully confident last time you were here that I would be prime suspect. How many times are you willing to get it wrong, chasing your own tails round in circles? I fear your credibility may be even more at risk than my own." I stand to my feet, and walk to the front door. "Unless you wish to detain me, I'm going to work. Perhaps you should go and do some of your own."

Brooks casts a filthy glare as he walks past.

"We'll be seeing you again, Miss Moore," Penny calls out behind him.

"Don't fucking count on it," I mutter, before shaking them from my head and continuing with my day.