Curse of the Witch's Doll Page #4

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Janet Parker?

Why did you hide their files?

What, still no

recollection, doctor?

Refresh your memory,

because it's all in here,

just like Mary.

All three were

once patients here,

paranoid schizophrenics.

Three wildly

different characters,

three different issues,

but they shared one belief,

a belief denied by you.

A belief that you

still deny today,

even to yourself.

Through her haunted

doll, the witch lives on.

Search too hard for logic

in the beliefs of a

paranoid schizophrenic

and you end up

believing them yourself.

The witch is tormenting

the weak-minded patients

under your care

and you silenced those

brave enough to describe

what they see.

You label them delusional

and if you believe

that you could get

away with this,

you are more delusional

than any of them.

Now why are you

hiding the truth?

I won't let a f***ing lie

destroy what I have here,

what I have built.

[Doctor Powell] You

won't silence Mary

and you will not silence me.

Do you hear me?

(knife slicing)

(heavy breathing)

(ominous orchestral

music rising)

(shovel digging)

(knocking and banging)

(eerie atmospheric music)

(eerie atmospheric music)

(door knocking)

[DC Jones] Doctor Litner?

[Doctor Litner] Yes?

DC Jones, Harrington police.

May I have a word?

Yes, of course.

Sit down.

Can I get you a drink?

[DC Jones] Um, no, thank you.

[Doctor Litner]

It's no trouble.

[DC Jones] I'm on duty.

Oh, yes, of course.

This isn't a

social visit, doctor.

[Doctor Litner] Clearly.

I've been assigned to

a missing person's case.

The person we're searching

for is your colleague,

Doctor Charles Powell.

(suspenseful orchestral music)

Tell me, when was the last

time you saw Mr. Powell?

Um, last Friday.

We were assisting a patient,

a particularly

challenging patient.

Ah, yes.

Mrs. Mary Thomas.

Yes, that's correct.

Yes, I'd like for you

to arrange a meeting

for me and Ms.

Thomas if possible.

I'm afraid that

won't be possible.

I can organize a

warrant if need be.

You misunderstand

me, constable.

Following her

treatment, Mary Thomas

is not capable of

talking to anyone.

Mm.

Doctor Powell is

relatively new here,

learning the ropes.

He gets emotionally

attached to the patients.

He can almost feel their pain.

I suggested he left

early that day,

took some time away

from the asylum,

to clear his head.

I believe it was about...

Let's stick to facts,

shall we, doctor?

I sent him home

at four o'clock.

Well, that completely

contradicts what his wife says.

Mrs. Powell said that he

was here working all night.

Impossible.

And you're sure?

I remember it vividly.

I wished him well.

He thanked me for

allowing him time away

and he walked out of

site, off the grounds.

What was he wearing?

I don't recall.

And yet you say you

remember it vividly.

He wore a hat, a coat.

What was the

color of this coat?

Is that important?

Answer the question.

Gray.

A statement that matches

that of Mrs. Powell's at last.

He always wore a gray coat.

Perhaps...

...this.

An odd thing to forget

whilst walking home

on a dismal day in December,

wouldn't you agree?

I spotted this gray coat

buried on the staff coat rack.

It matched the coat description

his wife described exactly.

The last time she saw him.

We all own a gray coat.

What attributes this

particular coat to him?

A prescription

in the left pocket

to Mr. C. Powell.

Maybe he left it behind.

Some may suggest he

didn't leave at all.

And what does

it suggest to you?

I'm merely here

to ask questions.

Mrs. Powell received a

telephone call that evening.

It was from her husband.

He said how he

needed to work late

and that he had to have

a conversation with you.

He seemed agitated.

What could that conversation

have been about?

Something tells me you

think you already know.

Did you have

that conversation?

Did you have some

sort of confrontation?

No.

Mrs. Powell described her

husband's demeanor as agitated,

frustrated

at the way you deal with

mentally fragile patients.

My patients are like family

to me, they are family.

I treat them like my own.

Did Mr. Powell ever witness

you mistreating a patient?

No.

You really should try

this whiskey, constable.

It's Jim Watkins' favorite.

Yes, Sir James Watkins,

the chief constable.

You know him well?

We share a love of golf.

He has a good swing, but

he's a terrible putter.

You should be careful what

allegations you make against me,

constable.

You may find this becomes a

career-changing case for you.

You sound like a man

that has something to hide.

No, I'm afraid

it is Doctor Powell

who has something to hide.

If you were half the

detective you think you are,

you would've searched

both his coat pockets.

He would take the

wedding ring off.

It was a ritual, a routine.

All he told me was

that when he put the wedding

ring back on in the morning,

in his mind, nothing

had happened.

A mistress?

Miss Powell is not the

only woman in his life.

In the minds of

those around him,

he made sure he was

here on Friday night.

In fact he would've

been with another woman.

[DC Jones] I need a name.

[Doctor Litner]

Miss Beverly Shaw.

Where can I find Miss Shaw?

Well, until Friday night,

you would've found her on

Church Street, number 59.

Along with Miss Shaw,

I fear Doctor Powell

is another casualty of

Friday night's bombing raid

on Harrington town.

Such a tragedy.

I'm afraid Doctor Powell

may remain a missing person

indefinitely.

I trust you can

see yourself out.

Give my regards to the chief

constable when you see him,

won't you?

(eerie atmospheric music)

[Doris] Doctor Nolan!

Doctor Nolan!

Doris?

(crying)

Doris.

Doris, can you hear me?

Yes, I hear you.

[Doctor Litner]

Are you all right?

No.

Why are you down here?

I heard a voice

and I followed it.

[Doctor Litner] But

I locked the door.

It didn't stay locked.

Please, please don't

send me back up there,

please please.

[Doctor Litner] Why?

Because I'm afraid.

You're safe here.

Stay with me, Doris.

I need you to be

brave, to be honest.

Can you do that for me?

Yeah.

I want you to tell me what

happened to you tonight.

I,

(eerie atmospheric music)

I lay in bed

and I couldn't sleep

and

I,

thought's kept just going

round and round in my

head, like cockroaches

and I heard the door unlock.

It slowly opened

and I thought it was you,

'cause it had to be,

but it wasn't.

It was

someone,

something else.

What did you see?

Nothing.

Just an empty corridor

and then I heard this

sound of a child crying

on the stairs

and I,

how could I just

lie there?

I couldn't.

I wanted to, to help

her, to comfort her.

Doris, are you

taking your medication?

But it was no child.

It was no child, doctor.

It was something else.

Are you taking your meds?

It was a doll, Doctor Litner.

(eerie atmospheric music)

It was a doll.

Not only a doll.

There was life behind its eyes.

It was a living doll.

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