Chapter 12
I opened my eyes strangely. There was a sound that filled the room, as though someone else was there, snoring.
Aside from the white ceiling that greeted me along with the light bulb, I turned my eyes to the side and found Bernard snoring happily on the chair beside me.
With a frown, I looked the other direction towards the window. It seemed to be early morning, or possibly another evening, which I was hoping would be false.
I stirred and pulled myself out of bed, giving Bernard a light tap. The man woke up immediately, grumbled, and nodded back to sleep.
I groaned and took my time taking a shower, and that was when the events of the previous day came flooding back: the insane confession whispered to me, the bodies in the freezer and the basement, and the explosion that all but ate up most of the evidence.
Finishing my shower, I went back into my room to find Bernard on the floor, to my surprise. With an eye roll, I left and then prepared myself for the day.
Later, Bernard joined me on the way to the station. "What happened while I was asleep?" I asked.
"Nothing much," Bernard responded. "Although I tried to convince the colonel that he should let you rest before he questions you. Luckily, he's been silent since last night."
"Good. Means he's listening to the recordings. That should give me some time to come up with a few theories. Where are we going?"
"To the station. I'd like to see Dr. Travis. Hopefully, they should have examined the evidence by now, remains or no."
Being the one who was driving, I kept silent for the rest of the journey. I was worried that Bernard might fall asleep at the steering wheel. By the time we reached the station, most of it was silent, which was likely because the colonel was away.
"It is insane," Dr. Travis said, his eyes blinking rapidly behind his thick glasses.
"Everything! We found some strange substances that refuse to burn. Most of the bodies were still slightly fresh. The canisters protected most of them, but some were badly damaged.
I'm guessing those ones were closest to the explosion source. Of course, your person, Mr. Tim... Dr. Tim was the first to die. Some of his DNA was found here and there."
By this time, Dr. Travis had already sat down in his seat and wheeled over to his computer, where he was jamming his keyboard with a speed I was unfamiliar with. I chuckled to myself, wondering just when it was that I would be able to type as fast as him.
"His DNA matches perfectly with someone at the age of 57," Dr. Travis declared as he continued to type furiously.
"His name and most of his other details barely exist in our database. It's likely because he was in this country at a time when most people were unregistered, but I was able to pull up some things. I found him registered in one of the best universities in the country! He was such a smart man. I wonder where he went wrong?"
Dr. Travis slumped in his chair as if to dramatize his displeasure.
"What can you tell us about the bodies?" I pressed the doctor and came to stand beside him.
"The bodies? Nothing much. Most of them have only been dead for a short while, at least within the last few weeks."
"That's not possible," I said.
"That's what the condition of the bodies told me."
"I'm saying it's not possible because Dr. Tim told me how impossible it was. He told me about how most of the bodies have been there for at least five years."
"That's not possible," the doctor shot back at me with anger in his eyes. "What makes you say that?"
"My experience as a forensic scientist, my many years spent studying dead bodies, and the like. Why are you even asking me these questions, Ash? Are you doubting my credibility?"
"I wouldn't dream of it, Travis, but I need you to understand that there's more to this case than anything. Check the records, I'm sure you'll find something different," I urged him.
With a frustrated huff of breath, Travis began to furiously type at his computer again. "Doctor Jonathan Mayers died... that's not possible."
"What is it?" Bernard asked from behind me, finally speaking after a long moment of silence.
"Doctor Jonathan Mayers has been dead for the past four years. His body is in a perfect state. What happened?"
Travis suddenly spun around in his chair and glared at me. "I told you. This case is not as it seems. Most of what you think you know as a doctor will be put to the test, and you might end up losing your mind."
"I don't care about losing my mind. I care about you explaining to me how someone that has been dead for over five years looks like he has barely been dead three days!
Yes, I know freezing the body will do a considerable amount of preservation, but there seems to be some sort of compound that keeps the cells together, prevents it from decaying. It's almost as though..." I paused, hoping to finish his sentence for him.
"...hibernating?" I asked.
"Yes. The body is well, hibernating, but how? Tell me you have an explanation for this. Tell me you're always a sucker for things supernatural."
"Witchcraft, Doctor? Could it be witchcraft?"
"Witchcraft is a superstition; it doesn't exist."
"That's what I thought," I mumbled under my breath.
"This is what you're going to do for me, Travis," I said as I placed my hand on his desk and leaned towards him. "You're going to check the bodies for any substance that isn't natural."
"What am I looking for exactly?"
"Anything that isn't natural," I frowned at my own response.
"That doesn't answer the question. Tell me, what am I looking for!"
"I myself have no idea what you're looking for, but I can tell you for a fact that there might be some compounds in the bodies that are not normal."
"Well, obviously. I mean, here I am, finally understanding that you can keep a body alive... were they embalmed by any chance?"
"Once again, my assistant tries to make a strange comeback by asking a question."
"Let's say it's something similar to being embalmed. What does that mean?"
"There are chemicals that do things like that, but it's not so important, right?"
"You're asking me, Doctor? I don't know. The science is yours, figure it out," I huffed and then left the lab.
"Would you like to see the Colonel before you leave, sir?"
"He hasn't called me yet, so he's not ready. I know better than to wake a sleeping tiger, Bernard. We wait until he calls us first. Hopefully, by then, he'll be willing to accept everything he hears."
"Just how bad is it?" I mused aloud, starting the engine of the car to head back to the office.
"Based on what I do and my profile of cases, I would say it's unbelievable. It's unbelievably stupid; it doesn't make any sense. But somehow, it makes perfect sense because I saw it, and I was told these things, even though they were ridiculous."
"So, what are we going to find now, sir?" Bernard asked as he buckled his seatbelt.
"I have a few leads on some of the bodies. Hopefully, we will be able to find out who they were and just what exactly they did to warrant a strange death at the hands of our dear friend Tim."
I proceeded, telling Bernard about everything I had found out, deliberately leaving a few things out of the loop. I wasn't willing to risk Bernard running away out of fear, but a part of me felt as though I should have told him. He was, however, defying the odds lately.
By the time we got back to the office, Travis called me. "Yes?" I answered.
"All of this is insane!" he exclaimed over the phone. "I'm finding a few substances that aren't supposed to exist or even do anything like this, but it does!" His voice carried a mix of worry and excitement.
"You're the one who brought the strange case to me in the first place. Left to me, I wouldn't have handled it," I replied, rolling my eyes at my short friend's antics.
"Travis, do you want to get to the bottom of the truth or not?"
"Of course I want to get to the bottom of the truth. I'm extremely curious about what exactly I'm finding. But the amount is so trace, it will be hard to extract anything."
"Extract? Yes. Why would I go through this trouble if I'm not planning to extract some of the compounds? This is amazing, Ash!"
"Call me when you find out anything definitive."
"Sure!" I hung up, pulled out a pen and paper, and began to write down a number of things I saw on his computer when he was checking on the bodies.
"Jonathan Mayers," I muttered as I began to write down his name. "Who are you?" I asked aloud as I tapped my pen against the page.
The next name I remembered was Dr. Frank Mangosteen. "Such a strange name," I wondered.
"Who in their right mind would name their child after a fruit?" I turned on my computer, which was at the edge of my desk, and began to do some searches.
"Bernard!" I called out to my assistant, who was through my door in no time. "Mangosteen. Where did you hear that name?"
"Doctor Frank Mangosteen. If my memory serves me correctly, he was a famed archaeologist who studied a number of things in Haiti."
"So, the man went to Haiti, right?" I asked.
"Pull out a pen and take down these things," I instructed him.
"It would appear that our dear friend Tim had been trying to eradicate the group that he encountered when he was in South America.
Many things remain unclear, but the number of bodies found in his basement proved to be several prominent members of society, bringing much into doubt. Could it be more than that?"
"What group, sir?"
"Would you believe me if I told you that witchcraft exists?" Bernard didn't take long in answering; he jumped right in with a few words.
"I believe many things exist, sir," Bernard said, his eyes widening. "My mother taught me to believe in superstitions. She always liked to perform strange rituals, but one thing she always told me was that I should never ever doubt the supernatural. As far as witchcraft and spells go."
He chuckled slightly, a trace of nostalgia in his voice. "She doesn't even let us celebrate Halloween."
"I see your childhood was devoid of many happy memories; I'm quite sorry to hear about that, Bernard," I said, offering some sympathy.
"I was quite happy with my childhood." Bernard's response was quick, almost defensive.
"No, you were not. If you were, you wouldn't have grown up like this," I observed, gesturing towards the man in front of me and grimacing.
"Like I was saying, Bernard, let's get back to writing; let's finish this." I directed our conversation back to the task at hand.
"We might have an unprecedented case that might just be a miracle. There are compounds and herbs that, when mixed together, could form strange brews that ensure dead bodies can regain motive functions."
"To my surprise, Robert and James were part of this strange sect of people that could do that. He might have committed murder to get to where he was, and that I'm not quite taken with."
"Murder, sir?" Bernard looked shocked.
"Yes, Bernard. Murder. He killed his friend Tim and not just him. Tim's testimony says a lot of things about Robert—unbelievable they might be, but we need to do some more digging into the family. Who knows what else they're hiding. And you know me, I just love digging up things."