100 Ways to Solve a Murder-Chapter 85: The Case of Sam Gray

Future: December 2012

*drip* *drip*

Raindrops started to fall.

But it wasn’t raining, Sam thought.

No.

*drip*

*drip*

*drip*

It continued, while Sam searched for its source, her head pounding.

*drip*

*drip*

A tear paused just before her face, hanging from the strand of her crimson hair... as she breathed slowly, heavily. Panting where she sat on the cold ground.

Sam watched it fall, slowly.

Everything to her felt like a Slo-mo in a movie...

Or was it just the adrenaline pumping through her veins?

Her heart racing,

Sweat dripping down the side of her neck,

Her body covered in grime and dirt

Her senses heightened

The tear wasn’t rain, it definitely wasn’t, she could tell.

First, it wasn’t transparent, instead it was red and thick.

Second, it wasn’t falling from the sky, it was coming somewhere far closer, it was coming from her head.

Third, it smelt metallic.

Blood.

That would explain the throbbing of her head, she thought upon realization.

Red continued to fall, painting the dull floor crimson, making a small pool of blood on the cold cemented floor.

She watched it, every drop creating small ripples, one after the other.

........

Present Day, 7 Eastbourne Rd.

Two months had passed since Sam was institutionalized in Cardiff. Two long months and not much had changed.

A much cool-headed Marco entered the blond psychologist’s home that afternoon after dropping by to say hello to the boys downstairs. As he entered he saw the slicked blond standing before the whiteboard in his living room, with a determined look on his face.

Marco approached slowly, "Levi." he called from behind the blond.

The bearded man had already anticipated Levi would piss him off again with his attitude, he rarely failed at that feat. So, Marco came there prepared, with an extra set of patience, and on Lisa’s advice, he went to see him.

Marco scanned his flat, and his eyes widened then turned into frown moments later. Mrs. Whitehall had mentioned that he didn’t want her in his home, and said that he was busy with a case. And her coming there to clean up was distracting his train of thought.

And that was since Lisa and he visited Sam.

Marco assumed that yes, things had been off since Sam had been Institutionalized. But being there now, he saw he saw how off it actually was.

If a year back, the flat looked as it was that day he wouldn’t even take notice. But that was before Sam entered their lives, and changed the psychologist drastically, enough that the flat was usually presentable to strangers.

Marco shifted to the blond, a hand was on his chin. thinking deeply.

"Levi?" he called again, his tone had a hint of worry. Marco’s eyes trailed on the scattered papers on the floor, the untouched food on the table, and throwing knives embedded on the target fastened on the wall.

But what caught his attention most was what was on the whiteboard. It was filled with newspaper clippings, maps, and pictures on it. Photos of people he didn’t recognize, with yarn connecting each. It was for a case, and at the center of its complicated web was Sam Gray.

Levi shifted to the bearded man,

"Marco." he casually said, making the doctor jump startled at the sound of his voice.

Marco gestured to the whiteboard,

"Levi, what is this?" he asked, baffled.

Levi scoffed, what a stupid question he thought. "A case, obviously," he said.

Marco frowned,

"I can see that, but why is Sam at the center of it?" he asked, staring at the psychologist.

Levi turned to the whiteboard, staring at Sam’s smile on the photo for a moment. Green eyes gleaming with humor, it was a photo he got from the web. A fan had posted it over Instagram tagged as #Samson and had been reposted thousands and thousands of times online. He remembers this photo, he was standing right beside her. It was some time after the Murder of the 15th, and the two were famished after the discovery of the fourth victim Cleo Gallagher.

He invited her for some Chinese just at the end of 7 Eastbourne Rd. It was like any other late dinner they had, but this one he remembered most.

Memories of it were clear, the sound of her voice, how the moonlight bounced off her ginger hair, lashes curved over its tips. Lips pulled at the corner, a smile reaching her eyes from laughing at something he’d said. And there he was beside her, and oddly, he saw himself smiling in the picture too.

"She’s the case...." he said, almost in a whisper.

"The case, I can’t solve." He added wistfully.

Marco frowned at this, and scanned him, he was thinner than he last saw him. He wondered if he was eating okay.

Levi flopped on the chair, leaning back and shutting his eyes close, thinking.

Marco sighed and sat across Levi.

Minutes later, Mrs. Whitehall came in to bring some tea for them and the boys downstairs. She brought some tea and discreetly whispered to him.

"I’m glad you’re here, Marco. He’d not been himself lately." The older woman said, before leaving the two men.

Marco turned to Levi minutes after,

"Levi....mate. What--what’s going on? How have you been?" he asked, concerned.

He wanted him to know that he was there to listen to whatever he had to say.

Levi snapped his eyes open,

"Ten minutes of electric current flowing through the brain, even with muscle relaxant administered to minimize the seizure, the body would still shake for less than 60seconds," he spoke suddenly, earning a confused brow from Marco.

"This happens two or three times every week. She has gone through 12 of these treatments in a span of 2 months. A treatment that no one knows for certain actually helps Depression and other mental illnesses," he adds, continuing to denounce facts.

"Memory loss is common, retrograde or anterograde, depending. There’s a number of possible side effects that could be a result of this treatment, one of them is permanent brain damage," he stated.

Marco looked at him confused,

"Sorry?" he asked.

Levi shifted to the man opposite him,

"Electroconvulsive therapy," he said.

"And now, she has undergone a newer technique called unilateral ultrabrief pulse electroconvulsive therapy that is done daily." the blond scoffed, displeased.

"Oh," Marco says, finally understanding what the slicked blond was ranting about. It was about Sam.

"I know this upsets you...but it could help her. I recently got in touch with Elle, and she tells me Sam’s responding quite well." Marco tried to reason, attempting to assure him.

"Volts of electricity flowing through her brain. Do you know how painful that is, Marco? Even with anesthesia? You’re the sentimental fellow between the two of us, does this information not upset you?" Levi asked, clearly upset but he was trying to hold his emotions at bay, failing at it too; cause medically speaking, Marco did make a point. He’s a doctor after all. He made the perfect point, but Levi didn’t like it.

"She is receiving the best care there is," Marco reasoned, he was upset too. But, Sam needed all the help she could get.

That statement blew a fuse inside the psychologist’s head and he glared at him.

"She is receiving the best care there is," he repeated, seething. That’s exactly what Anna told him, a week ago.

Levi stood up, jaw clenched, and glared down at Marco, "You sound like Anna." he spat, leaving Marco in the living room. Marco was surprised at his reaction, eyes trailing behind the slicked blond as he walked to his bedroom, shutting the door loudly.

Minutes later Mrs. Whitehall walked in the flat to collect the tea set, only to find Marco alone."Didn’t go well?" she assumed.

Marco pursed his lips, disappointed at the result of his visit like Mrs. Whitehall clearly was.

Marco left soon after, the older woman walked him out the door while chatting.

"I’m worried about him, he’s not eating," she said, walking down the stairs with him.

"Me too," Marco admitted.

"Not only that Marco, but he’s also been throwing knives all the time. And if he isn’t, he’s somewhere else." Mrs. Whitehall said, voice filled with worry. Marco looked at her, "goes where?" He asked.

Mrs. Whitehall shrugs, "I don’t have the faintest, he leaves in the middle of the night."

"Happens often?" Marco asked.

"More lately, one time he didn’t come home for two days."

Marco scowled, "when was this? Why didn’t you call me?" Marco asked, clearly troubled by the news.

"Last week, I didn’t want to worry you and Lisa. And last time you came by, you and Levi argued." Mrs. Whitehall confessed.

Marco sighed, "I’m sorry, I understand. Next time he disappears, please call me," he advised, and the older woman nodded.

"I hope Sam gets well soon. I think he misses her." Mrs. Whitehall says sadly, and Marco mirrored her expression. They miss her too, and he reckons the blond misses her more than they could even comprehend.