Fifteen
Another body like the one from the choir hall appeared the next day.
The man, Eduard Szabina, was wrapped around a harp, his body contorted in a way that, from afar, it looked almost like he was molded into the shape of the instrument. The concert hall was only a couple miles away from the last one, the change in location probably due to the increase of security.
“Is this our Musician?” Dumbledore asked, standing next to Sirius as he looked at the beautiful instrument.
Wow, they really need to get better at naming things, Sirius thought, stepping closer to the body.
This was a scene of utmost perfection. The clean cuts along the man's skin, the hollowing of his chest to make room for the golden harp, the stolen organs. The organs.
“It's The Artist.” Sirius said quickly, loud enough to get the attention of the team. His hands were shaky and erratic as he spoke, “We need to start going through files and figure out if some of the past, unsolved, murders were him too.”
“Sirius-” Peter started, staring at his friend in concern.
“I know what I’m talking about Pete.” Sirius snapped, not even giving himself enough time to feel guilty about it before he was on his next rampage. “The killer quite literally cut open this guy, just to wrap his skin around the harp. They’re communicating. The Musician and The Artist. This is their line of communication, through these kills. I know what you are…Come get me. They’re getting the attention of the other and it’s working. This isn’t as simple as we think. Maybe the Bacchus and Ariadne scene from before was directed towards The Musician. No, that doesn’t feel right…”
The hall was silent as Sirius quietly mumbled to himself, his mind drifting off as he stared at the body once again.
“James, is he okay?” Marlene asked the taller boy, her arms crossed over her chest and a concerned expression on his face.
“I’m not sure…” James grabbed Peter by the arm, “Look Pete, he didn’t mean it like that. He’s just been on edge recently.”
“Yeah well special agent my ass. If he can’t deal with the FBI he shouldn’t be here. The definition of this job is ‘stress’.”
“Special agent?” Dorcas asked, glancing from the group back to Sirius who was still lost in space. “You mean he isn’t real FBI?”
James sighed, wiping the lens of his glasses before speaking. “Strict screening procedures, but look guys-”
“Those screening procedures detect instability.” Dorcas rebutted, her expression getting more concerned by the second.
“Is he unstable?” Marlene kept glancing back at their colleague, trying to read the expression on his face.
“He wouldn’t be here if Dumbledore didn’t feel like he could be.” James said, ignoring the question. “Plus, he’s got Remus now, everything is going to be fine…Just give him some grace.”
Dumbledore knocked on the dark wooden door, idly looking over the book titles on the shelf next to him as he waited for the man to answer.
“Agent Dumbledore, I wasn’t expecting you.” Remus opened the door further, allowing the old man space to walk in. “Please, come in.”
“Sorry to barge in on you like this Dr. Lupin, but I was wondering if we could talk about Sirius.”
“It depends what you ask, please take a seat.” Remus motioned for the man to sit across from him at his desk. “I do take confidentiality very seriously.”
Dumbledore nodded in consideration, his words taking time to form. “Is Sirius okay? I think everyone in the bureau has started to become somewhat concerned, and if he isn’t ready for the field, I don’t want to be the one getting in trouble for putting him out there.”
Remus avoided glaring at the man. This whole meeting was just so Dumbledore could save his ass, an excuse as to why he continued to push Sirius even when he was at his breaking point. “Sirius thinks very differently than the rest of us.”
“He does.”
“This can complicate some things. The way he feels can get so jumbled up with these killers that it can cause him very serious damage.” Remus straightened some of the papers on his desk, looking at his watch and seeing that he only had a few minutes before his next patient arrived. “He saw a neurologist a couple of nights ago.”
“And?” Dumbledore leaned forward a bit.
“Everything came back negative, he’s going to ask for more tests but they won’t find anything. He was quite upset at the fact that what he’s suffering from is mental illness.”
“Sirius is mentally ill?” Remus resisted rolling his eyes as Dumbledore spoke. “Is it that he’s mentally ill or just that we don’t know what else to call him because he’s so…different.”
“I’ll keep you updated on his progress, Agent.” Remus stood, buttoning his suit jacket with one hand and holding the other out to Albus. “My next patient will be here soon so I must start preparing.”
Dumbledore stood, shaking the doctor's hand with a tight smile and showing himself to the door.
“Jacob has been saying some very concerning things.” Christopher said, sitting down in the armchair across from Remus. The past few sessions have been mainly focused on Christopher's relationship with his friend, Jacob. It was quite frankly, boring. Remus gave the man across from him a low hum, indicating for him to continue. “He keeps talking about The Artist, the killer who replicates those famous paintings, and saying how beautiful his murders are. And a while ago, he was talking about how much he hated that lady from the choir, wishing someone would tear out her horrid vocal cords, and then she showed up dead…with her vocal cords ripped out.”
“Do you believe your friend is capable of such a thing?”
“Well I don’t know!” Christopher exclaimed, his hands flying in the air. “Is he a psychopath? He says all these dark things and I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you think you should do?” Remus resisted the urge to yawn.
“Should I turn him in? But what if he’s not the killer, then I’ll look like a liar and lose my best friend.”
“You could save lives.” Remus said, the stress visibly growing on his patient's face.
“Or I could ruin his if I’m wrong…”
“Christopher,” The man looked up at Remus, “You should do whatever you think is best.”
The conversation ended at that, the man very obviously musing over his options as he spoke about his day and the stress of his work. Jacob could be a problem in the future if he didn’t play his cards right. It may be time for them to finally meet, maybe over a nice dinner.