The hospital stood at the foot of the hill that separated two distinct parts of the city. The poor one to the south and the wealthy one to the north. It was only from the top of that hill that one could understand just how obvious this divide was.
They hurried to the door, just as the sky prepared for yet another night of rain. Myra wondered if such a thing meant another murder.
"We need to see your patient records," said Ori to the pale-faced nurse at the front desk. Frightfully, she finished the call she was on and waved at another, older nurse behind them.
"I don't think I can do that sir, not without proper authorizations."
As Ori prepared to invoke the power of the Bureau by sliding off his glove, Myra shoved him aside and leaned over the counter looking the nurse straight in the eyes.
"This is an ongoing murder investigation. Could you please tell us who we can talk to?"
The nurse flinched and blinked several times, having no idea what was happening.
"Patient records are sealed," said the head nurse after shifting the young one aside and taking her spot behind the desk. "If you were police you would know that."
"Not after the patient's death. Or so the law states," Myra returned. "Look for Marus Olif. He was admitted twenty-two years ago as an eleven-year-old with a broken arm. I need to know how long he stayed here and who performed the surgery. Also, look for Vika Laman, Salen Rok, Polliar Rolek and Treman Golder."
"I'm afraid everything from back then was still kept on paper," said the young nurse. "It should still be in the archive though."
"Sounds great. I'd very much like to see that," Myra said and smiled widely as the head nurse's expression soured beyond repair.
Like a cynical old dog, the head nurse outstretched her arm towards the young one, ready to eat her alive, and the young one bowed her head in defeat, handing over the keys.
"Wait here," the old nurse said as she threateningly pointed the biggest of the keys at Myra. As slowly as she was able she walked to the end of the hall and disappeared behind tall metal doors.
Myra smirked, doing the best she could to avoid reconciling with the fact she was in a hospital again. It took a lot of strength to pretend it did not make her sick to her stomach, but she could not afford to show any weakness.
The coffee machine in the corner of the lobby called out to her with a sweet dose of caffeine and sugar. It was a beacon of hope on a dark horizon, and she rushed into its warm embrace.
It took three eaten bills and two kicks to the side to get it to work and when she finally managed to get what she wanted, she discovered that she'd been abandoned.
"Where did he go?" she asked placing the small plastic cups on the counter. The wide-eyed nurse lifted her finger and pointed the way to the stairwell on the other side.
"Seriously?" Myra growled and grabbed the landline from behind the counter like it was in her own house. Soon enough, she placed it back as she realized did not have Ori's number.
What's worse, she did not know if he had one at all.
"I turn my back for a second," she mumbled, pulling her own rice-riddled phone from her pocket. After shaking off the grains she tried turning it on, and prayed to the tech gods to make it work.
"Are you one of… them?" the nurse asked quietly. Her pale face was turning red, as she pointed to the way Ori went.
"Them who? Magic people?" Myra barked, forcing one of her nostrils to unclog.
The nurse smiled and nodded shyly.
"No," Myra returned as she took the first sip of the coffee. "Gods no. Why?"
"Oh, nothing. It's just you seem like-"
"Like what?"
"Like-"
"Here," said the old nurse presenting a a stack of yellowish paper envelopes with the name of Marus Olif taped onto the first. "I cannot let you take it outside the hospital though. I too know the law."
"Yes, of course," Myra nodded grabbing the file. "Don't worry, I'll be around."
She found the first available bench in the corner of the lobby, just beneath a large framed picture of its resident doctors, and began digging into a collection of what she thought was the worst handwriting she'd ever seen.
The files were thinner than she'd expected. They were mostly made up of therapy notes and X-rays of the fractures. It was nothing she hadn't seen before and nothing that would capture much attention.
Still, she made sure to photograph every page and send it to Avva before writing down the names of doctors who'd treated the victims. There happened to be two different names mentioned in the document. One at the beginning and the other at the end.
"This is all pretty straightforward," said Avva over the phone, as her voice came in unbalanced waves, through the damaged speakers. "The documents seem legitimate, so I don't think anyone has tempered with it. It's the same information we already had."
"Can't we get anything other than the doctor's names out of it? No maltreatment, or medical injury?"
"No, nothing of the sort. We were right, after all. All the victims came here for surgery at some point. Better yet, they were sent here. None of them are from Gallaven originally."
"This was planned, I know."
"I did notice something though," Avva paused and her voice returned slightly cut off, "about the bones."
"What?"
"I am not an orthopedist but I don't think Vika and Treman needed the surgery. The X-rays are pretty clean, there's no evidence of bone density issues, or bone shards in the tissue. They were all pretty young so the bones would have healed with just the cast. The rest of them, especially Marus were a bit more serious cases, so I could understand that."
"Do you mean to say he forced surgery on some of them? There must have been a reason for that," whispered Myra.
"I can't make claims beyond the evidence, but it's quite clear all the victims received the surgeries, whether they needed them or not. Looks like that hospital is our biggest lead."
"Thanks Doc, I'll call you back," Myra hung up and turned to the long line of people in white coats standing in a perfect line within a silver frame. She went over their faces, one by one, and then summoned the nurse from the front desk.
"Which one of them is Callus Jarven?" she said, pointing at the name on the records.
"Oh, that would be our chief orthopedist. This one," she pointed to a mild-faced middle-aged man who stood at the very end of the line. His glasses covered a good portion of his face and he smiled to the camera as if it was his birthday.
"How long has he been here?"
"Umm, a long time I think. Thirty years or so, long before I came here."
"What else do you know about him?"
Once again the head nurse shoved the younger one aside before she said anything she should not.
"Are you really police, because neither you nor that colleague of yours gave me that impression? Can I see some identification?"
"I... it doesn't matter," Myra upstared. "Just please tell me where I can find Dr.Jarven."
"And why are you looking for him?"
"He's the primary suspect in five murders."
The woman did not so much as flinch at Myra's words. She remained perfectly calm and collected, before taking a deep breath, eying all the corners of the lobby. "He is on the night shift today. He'll be arriving soon. And when he gets here... make him suffer for all he'd done," her voice thinned out as she finished the sentence.
Her face was no longer that of a mean head nurse but of a woman holding a deep concern behind the mask.
"What makes you say that?"
The old nurse took careful looks all around her, making sure no one was listening. They were fortunate enough that the hospital was almost deserted, and she pulled Myra into a secluded corner covered by no eyes or cameras.
"I've been here a long time, and from the day he appeared in this hospital, things have been happening. Terrible things. Late-night guests, unlisted patients, secret surgeries, and that's just scraping the surface. We had to keep quiet about it, and so I stayed to protect the young ones, but I can't do it any… any... any..."
As she tried to finish the sentence her eyes filled with blood to the point of bursting, and she let out a long tormented shriek as she crumbled to the floor like a puppet whose string had been cut off. She gurgled on the floor as her limbs moved in violent twitches every few seconds.
Myra stood petrified against the wall, watching a crowd of medical staff gather around her and carry the woman away. She did not know what to say or think in those short moments, and she kept close to the wall so that her knees wouldn't give her up.
The shock kept Myra from noticing something rushing past her. With the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a long black coat gliding in the air. The hospital door spun around revealing a familiar smiling face through the glass.
"Callus Jorven," yelled Ori. "By the authority of the BMI you are under arrest for the murder of Marus Olif, Vika Laman, Salen Rok, Polliar Rolek and Treman Golder, and the use of unsanctioned magic with intent to repeat the said act. Come forward with hands away from one another or I will be forced to use lethal force."
The pleasant smile on the doctor's face inverted into a frown, and he held his hands up like a deer in the headlights.