Paint the town blue

Chapter XXVI

Liam's POV

Right now, the whole station is busy with two things - searching for Charles and Max, and their usual small things. There was no work for me, because there was no need to make psychological portraits, so I decided to use my free time and pay a visit to the doctor who conducted conversations with Max. It wasn't difficult for me to get through and arrange a meeting with Daniel Ricciardo - it even seemed to me that he was waiting for my call. So I started Wednesday morning not with a trip to my workplace, but to the closed institution where Verstappen was once kept.

Since the Dutchman is involved in an active case, I didn't need to wait a lot of time to get permission to visit this place. On Tuesday, I informed Fred of my desire to talk to Ricciardo, and in the evening of the same day I received the green light.

After parking in front of a building with fencing and security, I presented my documents to the attendant, then I was escorted into the building. In the building, the receptionist only asked me to sign the log and told me where to go. If I had come to a patient, or to be more precise, to a prisoner, then I would've had to hand over all my personal belongings, sign the log, then the guard would've taken me to the wing where dangerous people serve their time. But now I need to see a doctor, so I have to go to a completely different wing, where patients don't have access and there is simply no need for guards at every step.

I was surprised myself how quickly I found Dr. Ricciardo's office – there are very clear signs on each floor, so I can only get lost here if I wander the corridors blindfolded. When I reached the right door, I looked at my watch - 10:45. Fifteen minutes earlier than the agreed time.

Without waiting for exact time, I knocked and almost immediately heard "Come in" from the other side. When I entered the office, I saw Ricciardo sitting at his desk sorting through some papers. Was he preparing for our meeting? Well, that's commendable.

"Oh, Liam, you're a little early."

"Yes, I didn't want to delay the conversation, given the current circumstances."

"Yes, yes, I understand. Well, have a seat."

I went over to his desk and sat down in a rather comfortable chair. The only comfortable chairs at our station are the employees' chairs, and that couch in Charles's office. I smiled a little at my thoughts, and Daniel raised an eyebrow questioningly. I just waved my hand, then I briefly brought him up to date. It turns out that he is already aware of Charles's abduction and knows that our main suspect is Max. He didn't even seem surprised by this, however, as did all those involved in this case.

He put the papers aside and folded his hands on the table, then asked me to get down to business. I cleared my throat and started asking questions about his conversations with Verstappen. Although there is such a thing as "medical secrecy", but when a person's life depends on knowing the nuances about a criminal and his behavior, then all "secrets" cease to be such. Saving a life is always more important than any secrets, even the most personal ones.

"I read the transcripts of your conversations, and they seemed a little strange to me."

"Because of the neutrality of his answers?"

"That's right. What could've caused this?"

Ricciardo thought about it, then looked at one of the folders on his desk. "Such an effect would definitely not have appeared so quickly from drug treatment," he said, reading the list of drugs that Verstappen took while in custody. I asked about the side effects of treatment, because drugs, especially strong ones, can often be expected to do something other than benefit.

Ricciardo and I began to study the transcripts together, highlighting the "trigger" questions and Verstappen's answers to them, but again – solid neutral answers. The doctor suggested that the Dutchman could've tried so hard to mislead both him and the staff of the institution. But for what purpose? After all, even for diligent behavior, his sentence wouldn't have been shortened.