Page 41 of Ash and Poison

I had to keep a clear head for this.

“No.”

I walked around the club, taking my time studying the place, before moving toward the back stairs, making sure not to catch anyone’s eye. Everyone was too lost in their own world to even notice me.

I knocked, and a middle-aged man in an ostentatious suit opened the door, giving me a suspicious look.

“You’re Mr. Christopher Mulls?” he said. “You look young.”

“You don’t need to be old to learn to make money. You just need to be smart. I hope you are.”

He smiled, showing off his gold front tooth.

I walked in and locked the door behind us. It was dangerous to kill him here, but I had no way to lure him out. I just had to be careful.

“Did you tell your staff not to disturb our meeting?” I asked, fingering the syringe in my pocket, filled with Midazolam I had swiped from the asylum. A very high dose of it, and Hannigan would sleep soon enough. “This is going to be a lucrative venture, but it has to be a secret.”

“I’m a man who can keep any secrets for money.” His smile was vile, and my blood screamed for violence. I didn’t know how he was involved in Riley’s death, but just knowing he had a part in it was making my skin burn. “The room is sound-proofed. So don’t worry about—”

It was better than I expected. I was going to be discreet, but now that I knew no one was going to hear even if he screamed… I lunged at him and thrust the syringe into his neck before he could say another word. His eyes widened and his howl filled the massive room and died within it. Screams became whimpers.

It took him a while to stop struggling. When he finally went limp in my arms, I strapped him to his leather chair with a rope, turning to his massive desk.

The first three drawers were unlocked. The bottom one was locked as I hoped it would be—men like him always had something to hide.

I studied the lock for a while before grabbing the lock pick. It took me a few tries to open the drawer. There was a gun. Pushing it aside, I searched through the files and documents. Nothing made sense to me anyway. I quickly snapped pictures of everything before putting them back inside.

“Time to wake up, Hannigan,” I said, pulling out another syringe filled with flumazenil. He groaned when the drug pulled him out of unconsciousness, but not entirely.

“Wh-what?” he slurred, looking drunk and distorted. His eyes widened when he saw me standing there with the syringe. “You-you…”

“We’re going to play a game, Hannigan. It’s called… tell me what I want to know, and I won’t hurt you,” I said, taking his gun and pointing it at his head. “How many bullets are in this gun?”

His eyes, scared and wild, flitted around.

“No one’s coming to save you.”

“Chris, I have money.”

“Answers. I only want answers. You can keep your money,” I said. “Now, tell me about the man you worked for.”

“I do-don’t…”

“Wrong answer,” I said, waving the gun with a sigh. “Listen, I want to make it easier for you. You must have heard about Doctor Tomlinson and how he was tortured.”

He gasped, eyes glassy from fear. “Yo-you killed him.”

“I did. It was easy. I honestly thought you were going to be hard to kill, but here we are. So… Doctor T was your contact inside the asylum. Was he the only one?”

“You-you don’t understand what you’re getting into. I’m only a…”

“Not what I asked you. Eight years ago, a girl from Hollowhaven committed suicide, and Doctor Tomlinson told me your name before he died,” I said, walking closer to him. “So, is he the only one who helped you?”

“I didn’t even know it was Doctor Tomlinson.” He gasped.

I grabbed his middle finger and pushed it against his forehead. He was sweating, but I knew bastards like him were good at keeping their malevolent secrets tightly under wraps.

I bent his middle finger until I heard the snap of his bone. A scream tore from his throat, broken. He gritted his teeth, his face twisted in agony, eyes wide and wet.