Love Lost and Found

Chapter 14/?

“How arey tey today?” Ian asked as they followed Dr Stein through the long, white corridors.
“Almost unchanged.” The doctor replied with a sigh as they entered the elevator. He glanced quickly at Peter as he punched a button and then continued. “Mr Mortensen’s condition is improving. His wound is healing well and he has moved a little sometimes. But he has still not woken.” He finished quietly as he saw a gleam of hope in the men’s eyes.
“And... Orlando?” Peter asked with a gulp.
“He responds to simple commands but apart from that he has given no indication that he is aware of our presence. If he is, he doesn’t acknowledge us.”
“But it has been almost three weeks...” Ian whispered.
“I know.” Dr Stein replied with an exasperated sigh. “We have tried everything. We can only wait and hope.” A shrill gong sounded through the heavy silence as the elevator reached its destination and its doors slid open. “You know the way.” Dr Stein said as he gestured towards the corridor on his left. “I am needed in the maternity ward.”
Wordlessly Ian and Peter looked after him before they started towards their destination once more.

“Orlando?” Peter asked softly as they seated themselves at toungoung man’s bedside. “Orlando? Can you hear me?”
Orlando was sitting on the bed with his feet drawn up, looking straight trough peter and Ian. Shuddering Peter tried to meet the blank stare but after a few seconds he cast his eyes to the ground again. He was unable to bear his friend’s cold and unfeeling stare. He smiled sadly at Ian as he felt the older man’s reassuring hand on his arm.

He smiled as another wave rolled onto the beach and over his feet. It was hot again today. He had spent the last days in the shadows of the nearby wood but he was hoping to catch some crabs or maybe even a fish today. It was already past midday and the water had retreated far beyond the rocks it usually covered. Still smiling he got up and climbed the nearest rock, determined to search the small puddles of water of the water left there for something edible.
It was the easiest way to catch something. He frowned slightly as he heard someone call his name. Or rather believed to hear someone call his name. It was no more than the faint echo of a whisper, carried to him by the soft breeze that ghosted over the beach and ruffled his hair. He shook his head and concentrated on the shells and small fish in the puddles again. He knew that it was impossible. He was absolutely alone on this island, just like he had always wanted. He didn’t know how long he had been here now but it must have been weeks. He didn’t care. The island wasn’t big but it was peaceful and quiet and he was undisturbed here. He grinned happily as he noticed some crabs and quickly caught them, putting the kicking and struggling animals into the shell of the coconut he had eaten yesterday. He was humming softly as waded back to the beach, carrying the shell carefully in front of him.

He rubbed his temples and looked hopefully at the glass in front of him. The aspirin had not fully dissolved. //Fuck it all!// he thought //I need it. Now!//
Angrily he drowned the glass in one long gulp, hoping that the effects would set in soon. He had been working for hours now and it was already pitch-dark outside. Unfortunately he hadn’t made too much progress. He looked at the file and the scattered photos and documents on the desk again. Most of the photos depicted a young man, laying flat on his stomach with his arms stretched out in an impossible angle. His neck showed signs of strangulation and his whole body was covereth dth dried blood and bruises. The black and white photographs only intensified the difference between his naked white flesh and the black of his wounds and blood. There also were whipping marks across his thighs and back. Goodie closed his eyes and tried to banish these images from his mind but somehow they kept on haunting him, only that it was not the face of the young man on the photo he saw but Orlando’s. //No...// he thought slowly //I cannot let that happen to him... nobody deserves such a fate... it’s bad enough that I could not solve the case back then...// He opened his eyes again and looked at the photos once more. One photo in particular caught his eye. It was a picture of a small, silver cigarette lighter with engraved letters. KML. He had looked but the lighter that had been found with the last victim had vanished and no one had any idea who might have taken it. //How did the thief get into the police station?// Goodie asked himself. //And why did he steal nothing else? Only the cigarette lighter... it started almost exactly the same way four years ago... even if the victim back then wasn’t an actor.//
He tried to ignore the injuries of the man on the photos and compared him to Orlando. Both were slender and dark-haired, with dark brown eyes. They were also similar in build and even there faces bore some semblance to each other’s. But it had been like that with all the victims. Goodie recalled five in total but after three victims and a lot of fruitless work the file had been closed and put aside. He stared at the cigarette lighter in his hand again and pondered whether he had enough clues to ask his superior officer to open the file again or non. //Probably not...// he sighed and with a last lingering glance closed the file again to get home, knowing that sleep would most probably elude him for quite some time. He had always had an uneasy stomach and he hated the crueller parts of his work.

Tbc...