Page 25 of No Quarter

The doctor looked at Charlie with concern.

“Don’t worry, Doctor Whitmore,” Charlie said. “I’ll be as gentle as a puppy.”

But from the doctor’s expression, it was clear that he didn’t believe him. And he was right.

*

Charlie felt unsure about Will’s strategy as they stood in a corridor outside of Elmwood’s communal patient area. Just beyond the door, they knew that Jordie Fallon was sitting among the other patients.

“I think we need to get him into an interview room and run the finger over him,” Charlie said for the second time. “Put some pressure on. We need some answers, fast.”

Will fixed the collar of his shirt and pushed the glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“Charlie,” Will said as some inoffensive jazz music played over a small speaker somewhere behind a plant pot. “He’s an anxiety sufferer. And an extreme one by the sounds of it. Let’s just go in and talk to him calmly, maybe then we can find out if he knows anything about Gillian’s murder.”

“Anxiety can be good,” Charlie said gruffly. “Nervous people do one of two things: they either talk or they make mistakes.”

“Let’s hope it’s the former,” Will said. “And please, Charlie, let’s try and be diplomatic, at least at first.”

He didn’t want to agree, but Charlie was checking his disgruntlement at the door. He knew he was being more argumentative than usual. He had a lot on his mind. Ever since he’d kicked his brother out of his house, he’d been worried about him. The last words he’d said to Marvin were gnawing in his mind.

But that would have to wait for another day.

He pushed the door open and walked into the communal area with Will.

Will signaled to one of the orderlies who came over.

“Hello, can you tell us where Jordie Fallon is?”

The orderly politely pointed to a table where a pale, slight man in his thirties was sitting and staring at a checkers board by himself.

They approached him.

“Mr. Fallon?” Will asked.

The man looked up. He had a pale, doughy face and close-cropped ginger hair that seemed to grow in one direction, like a lawn that hadn’t taken to its fertilizer.

“What do you want?” he asked in a voice so quiet that it surprised them both.

“My name is Doctor Will Cooper, and this is ... my student Charlie.”

Charlie almost let out a laugh. Will was clearly holding back on telling Jordie Fallon that Charlie was an FBI agent so as not to spook him.

“N ... N ... Nice to meet you,” Jordie said, looking back down to the checkers board. “I’m n ... n ... n ... not in trouble, am I?”

“Oh no,” said Will. “Do you mind if we join you?”

Jordie looked like he wanted to say no. Like he wanted to be left alone. But Charlie guessed he was too nervous to cause offense.

“S ... Sure.”

Will and Charlie pulled up a seat.

“Playing by yourself?” Charlie asked.

Jordie looked sad. He started scratching his chest for a moment as though he had a rash. But Charlie could tell it was just a nervous reaction.

“I don’t like to play with other people,” Jordie said.

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