Patient Two (II): Tito Mendez

Roger Garrett

by Roger Garrett

Story

“Where to guv?” said Tito’s eager voice as soon as I climbed into the cab’s back seat. I suggested a random destination and Tito floored the accelerator.

Now, this time, I was not going to get caught with my pants down and returned safely with an empty wallet. I had managed to get ahold of Judge Álvaro Pormantó’s private secretary and after introducing myself as the assigned psychological professional, I explained in my most polite but assertive manner that if I was to pay for every single godforsaken cab ride I took with Mr. Mendez, I would request the corresponding and proportionate increase in my wages. I was told I’d receive an answer in the course of the following days, but given the lengthy periods the judiciary always took to respond to anything, I never expected a response, and thus, wasn’t disappointed.

“So, Guv’nor, what do you think ’bout the poor bird who died?” I said I didn’t know who he was referring to. He insisted, saying a young lady named Alice had been reported dead by her husband. Apparently, from what he gathered, some kind of weasel or beast had been sucking her blood. I asked Tito if he meant a vampire, which would have gone against everything his wife had told me about his pathology. But no, he stayed with his feet in the ground. Even said I was being absurd. It was some sort of weasel, ferret or something, he explained that the story didn’t elaborate.

I pushed to change the subject, as the news he brought to the session were not in my interest. He apologised, justifying himself by claiming that talking about the events going on at present made his working day easier. I assured him that I understood, but we had a session to engage in. But, still, something in his words, the story, rang a bell. The word “story” itself bounced around my brain. And then it struck me. Of course! This was something he had read, some book or short story which he was unable to process as fiction! But what could it be?

I asked him to elaborate further. I had to play the game if I was going to get to the bottom of this. Tito was more than happy to oblige. He went at it again claiming that the events, while tragic on their own accord were certainly made worse by the fact the couple were newlyweds and madly in love with each other. Alice, he informed, had taken ill soon after the wedding. This fact seemed exacerbated, Tito elaborated, by a reported disillusion the bride had had with what the honeymoon had been like and the unfolding marriage dynamic.

I was stumped. Honestly, it was these small little details that made me wonder how Tito couldn’t possibly realise that this was not the work of a reporter. I commanded him to finish his narrative. In the end, they found out that this animal had been in Alice’s feather pillow, consuming her every night until she passed away.

Finished, I went for the kill. I grilled him over where he had read it. He replied it had been on some paper, he couldn’t remember which. Either he was lying or indeed, he was delusional. Judging by his wife’s misery last time, I was more inclined to believe in his innocence. It did not escape me also, that it was a similar affair to the Suárez girl’s. Either way, I decided to treat him. And my gut told me that one day, Tito’s cabbie profile would come in handy.

© Roger Garrett 2023-08-11

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Novels & Stories