Murder in the Hospital

A Clown Came That Night

January 2021
London, England
Nighttime

Saint Bartholomew's Hospital had seen more than a few dreary nights in its time, like many of London's other edifices. Wind softly howled outside the sturdy walls, which remained stoic through the pattering of rain. Said hospital stood out from the other buildings in the sense that it would receive an upgrade of sorts: AI-enhanced drones from Skell Technologies, carrying out such necessities as running communications between hospital workers, delivering food and meds to patients, and performing everyday maintenance on the hospital itself. The results so far were promising. In the months since COVID-19 had found its way into England and other countries, medical workers like the spunky and intelligent Emmaline Dawson had been challenged to go above and beyond perceived limits to give infected people care and keep the virus from spreading any more than it already had. But even powerhouses like the aforementioned Dawson had to take breaks every now and then. Hence her stopping for just a quarter of an hour to catch up with a certain Arthur Monahan, the man directing the hospital's new drone fleet.

"So I get into the Capitol like Captain Price told me to and I didn't actually see the mob, but I heard it easily enough." Arthur's level tone belied the slight but perceivable tension in his chest as he recalled the memory and stared out a window, trying to appear every bit as stoic as the hospital. "Glass and doors getting smashed, men howling...never thought I'd see it happen. It was like a zombie apocalypse. I could've used every bullet I had and I would've barely made a dent in their numbers."

"I trust your mission was successful?" Emma gracefully slid a pair of medical gloves onto her hands. Like the rest of her body, they carried far more strength than their appearance suggested. One minute they could wield a club with bone-crushing force, the next they'd be delicately performing surgery on a human body.

"Enough to make a difference. Which was the point all along." Between his own efforts and the drones accompanying him on that day, a considerable number of Capitol workers had found their way to an extraction point on the side opposite the front entrance. That was some comfort, but several people had died. All considered, it was a grim start to the new year. And being fresh off a funeral for his grandfather wasn't helping, even though Emma had given him her most sincere condolences. It seemed all he could do now was move on. Or try to, at least.

"Count your blessings. It could have ended up worse." Part of Emma wondered if she should disregard professionalism for a moment and place a comforting hand or two on him, but social distancing was still a thing. She silently hoped her voice would be enough to ease his troubled mind. Which had enough weighing on it without issues like a global pandemic and nowhere in his country being safe. Given COVID's spread in the United States, it was remarkable that Arthur had been able to enter England at all. Thanks to masks, hand washing, and social distancing, he'd managed to dodge the virus so far. Many of his fellow Americans hadn't been so fortunate.

"Yeah...suppose so." His voice seemed lower than ever, like he was trying to hold emotion back, and his gaze remained fixed on some indeterminate point in the distance.

"Is something wrong? You know you can tell me."

For a moment he was silent. "It's just..." He sighed and turned to face her in the dark room, mask hiding his face's lower half. "Ever since this pandemic started, I've been wishing things would get back to normal. But I also wanted to live long enough to see normal come back. Hence the mask. And you won't believe the things Americans have screamed in my face when I've gone out in public wearing it."

"What sort of things?" Keeping concern out of her voice was a little more difficult. Even with her mask on, it was more than a little evident.

"They tell me I'm a traitor to America. And a libtard. And a devil-worshiper. And that they'll snag me in a citizen's arrest. Those were the nicer things. Maybe it's good that I came here when I did. Had to get away from the insanity." He softly scoffed, a bitter edge in his voice. "Never thought my countrymen would stalk, harass, and threaten me simply for wearing a little cloth over my face. People are douchebags, but come on. I'm not hurting anyone by wearing a mask. And I just want to live."