You've been left with no choice! If this isn't the decision you wanted, feel free to return to Chapter 95!
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The story you are about to read was written by Tana, MT_Reade

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Detective Christie walked through the door to the city morgue as quietly as he could. He didn't want to be startling to anything or anyone inside. The coroner was known for getting into quite the trance while working, and could be easily startled by abrupt or loud noises that broke his concentration. Logan walked down the hall that lead into the main medical room, passing by various bookshelves and glass cabinets, each filled to the brim with medical textbooks or vials of chemicals and remedies.

He paused a moment to look at the white working desk, that belonged to the coroner. There were countless papers and files scattered across the lace table cloth that covered it, along with the coroner's pen left discarded alongside them, instead of tucked away inside the open ink pot. The coroner had always been a little less organized than the detective, but that didn't make him like him any less. Above the desk was a picture frame that was hanging from the wall. The frame didn't hold a photograph, though, instead holding a certificate.

The Trustees of Carlton University

Of the city of New York,

issue on this day

Mr. Patton Hart

With a doctorate degree of a

Doctor of Medicine

This 18th of June,

1888

Logan recalled meeting Patton at Carlton University when they had taken medical classes together along with their friend Daemon White, before both the detective and Mr. White ended up dropping from the program. Logan ended up graduating from that same university with degrees in both mathematics and science. Logan hadn't seen the other since. They had used to be so close that the three were like family. Patton had even called Daemon his "son" on occasion. Logan didn't talk to the latter anymore. However, he and Dr. Hart had stayed quite close, and had gone on to work together on countless police cases for the past four years.

Logan continued down the hallway, until he reached the doorway into the main part of the morgue. Dr. Patton Hart was inside, up to his elbows in the chest of a young woman's body. Her skin had been very cleanly cut open, and Patton used long scissors to cut out her heart. He gently placed it on the table beside him, before turning back to the body. His light brown hair was pinned back by metal clips to keep it out of his face as he worked. He wore his long, white, medical apron that he always wore while working, although it was a little dirtied with the blood of the woman on the table in front of him. Only Patton could've made work like his seem unhostile. Normally, if someone would've stepped into a medical facility to see a corpse cut open, on a white table, and half covered by a white sheet, they would've been disturbed. But, Patton had every corner of the room decorated with ferns and potted plants, as well as pictures in frames of his friends and family. The doctor also radiated positivity and kindness, making the morgue seem almost inviting.

Logan knocked on the open door, and cleared his throat. "Dr. Hart?"

Patton looked up. "Detective!" He said, his face lighting up. He quickly pulled the white sheet up to cover the woman entirely, before walking over to a wash basin to clean his hands. "Come in!"

Logan took off his hat, and stepped down the three stairs to enter the large space. Patton wiped the water on his hands off on his apron, before removing it, and hanging it on a hook by the entrance way. He crossed over to stand in front of Logan. "I wasn't expecting you." Patton said, although his expression indicated that he wasn't upset by Logan's arrival.

"I wasn't expecting to be here either." Logan said, feeling a small smile glide smoothly onto his face as he spoke to the coroner. He knew he shouldn't be smiling at a time like this, but he simply couldn't help himself.

Patton pushed up his oversized glasses. They always seemed to be slipping down his nose. "Well Logan, how can I help you?"

Patton was the only one of his colleagues that called him Logan. It would normally be considered unprofessional, but Logan didn't mind. He did consider Patton a friend, after all.

"Patton, I'm sorry to say that I've come bearing bad news." Logan said, the smile slipping from his face. Patton's smile quickly followed, and he clasped his hands in front of him.

"Oh?" Patton asked. "Has something happened?"

Logan nodded. "I'm afraid so. The body of Virgil Sanders was discovered this afternoon, under Marian Bridge."

Patton blinked in disbelief. "I-I... I'm sorry?"

"We've been investigating his disappearance, although it appears he was murdered."

Patton blinked again, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to process this. "Oh. Oh dear." He said. "Murdered... under Marian Bridge? No, it... it couldn't be." Patton took an unsteady step backward. "Virgil... Virgil he was so young. He had just turned eighteen... he had his whole life ahead of him." He went quiet. "He was almost like a son to me."

Logan wasn't expecting this response, although that seemed rather stupid of him, as he knew that Patton and the victim had been somewhat close. "My condolences, Patton." He said. He took Patton's arm when the doctor wobbled unsteadily. "Come, you should sit."

Logan guided Patton out of the room and over to his desk, where he pulled out the chair, and Patton sat. "I can't believe this. He's really been murdered?" Patton looked up at Logan, his eyes teary.

Logan looked down, avoiding eye contact. "I'm so sorry, Patton."

Patton let out a shaky breath. "It's not your fault, Logan. I just... this is so unexpected. Why would anyone want to hurt him? He was so kind. Sure, a little rough around the edges, but he was a good person."

"I don't doubt it." Logan said, fidgeting with the hat in his hands. Although everyone said it wasn't his fault... he still felt guilty.

Patton sat back in his chair, and looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back tears. "Do you know who did it?"

Logan shook his head. "Not yet... I was hoping a post-mortem would give us a few more clues as to what happened, and whodunit."

Patton took a deep breath, and nodded. "Yes, I suppose a post-mortem is in order. I assume that's why you came to see me, then?"

"One of the reasons, yes." Logan said quietly. He felt ashamed. He should've thought about Dr. Hart's emotional state before coming.

"I can do my best." Patton said. "But, it might not be my finest work, though. I can't find one of my tools, I must've misplaced it again."

A medical tool? That sent Logan's mind working. "Which tool?"

"My scalpel." Patton answered. "Why do you ask?"

***

Logan sat in his office, pouring over all the new evidence. It was almost eleven-thirty in the evening, but Logan knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight without the case solved. So, he might as well put the waking hours to good use. It was looking as thought the detective would be spending the night at the station.

Patton had completed his post-mortem on Virgil, and had determined the time of death to be between 3 and 4 pm that day. Just before Logan had found him. He also determined that the cause of death was blood loss from the slits on his neck and wrists. The cuts were very clean and precise, suggesting someone with knowledge and familiarity with the murder weapon. With that in mind, Logan was beginning to dread inspecting the murder weapon. The murder weapon was the same type of tool that was missing from Patton's collection. The scalpel was sitting in front of him, still wrapped in Roman's handkerchief. Logan had dusted it, and pulled off finger marks. Beside him, he had a sheet of finger marks from the police inventory. Those of Patton Hart.

He compared them, and as he feared, they were a match. There was no doubt about it, this was Patton's scalpel. Based on the precision of the afflicted wounds, as well as the bottle of a medicine found at Thomas and Virgil Sanders' home that was used to knock out the victim, all of the evidence was pointing to the culprit being someone with medical knowledge. Patton would definitely fit that profile.

But, Logan couldn't bring himself to believe that it was the coroner who had done it. He was clearly close to the victim, if his reaction to the news of Virgil's death had been any indication. And honestly, Logan couldn't believe someone as pure and goodhearted as Patton Hart to have committed a murder such as this one.

Also, if Patton committed the murder, why tell Logan about the fact that his scalpel was missing? That would almost definitely raise suspicion about him.

Maybe someone was framing him. Someone else, also with medical experience wore gloves and stole Patton's scalpel.

Logan turned his attention to the note that he and Roman had found with the murder weapon. He couldn't stop reading it. He didn't understand how any of this pertained to him, but clearly he was wrapped up in it somehow, and for some reason.

Dearest Detective,

I trust you've found my little gift. Too bad you either didn't find, or didn't figure out my clue in time.

I had so much faith in you, too. Oh well.

It's too bad that it is the Sanders boy who had to pay the price for your foolery.

But of course, I'm sure that doesn't bother you much, does it?

You've never really been one for caring about the turmoil of others.

Surely you're trying so hard to figure this all out.

Perhaps you are thinking too much, as all you've done so far is play perfectly into this little game.

Perhaps I'll send you a helping hand.

Best of luck, Detective.

- Cain

Who was this Cain, exactly? And why on earth was he going through such lengths all just to seemingly get under Logan's skin? How did Virgil play into all this? What about Patton?

He had so many questions.

He looked up at his chalkboard, which stood on the opposite side of his office. On it was everything that the detective had relating to the case. Including the list of suspects, which were currently limited to Thomas Sanders and Remus Kingsley. Logan looked down at all the evidence laid out in front of him, and slowly let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He stood, and crossed over to his blackboard, and grabbed a piece of white chalk from its holder.

Then, he reluctantly added Patton Hart's name to the list of suspects.
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