It wasn't me [HOLD]

Chapter 3 - Phone call

***Contains swearing... again ***

Enjoy... :D

Phone call

'Hello?' The fifty year old professor picked up after the second ring.

'Hi, it's me.' He said as he twirled the phone line absently around his middle finger. 'I need your help,' he continued as he stared down at the report he'd written, or lack thereof. 

'What do you want?' The voice at the other end sounded gruff. 

'Am I disturbing you?' he asked.

'No, no, I was just finishing up in the office, why?' There was a shuffling of papers.

Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. 'I've got a job for you.' He lowered his voice as he said, 'Have you heard of the Williams case?'

The professor gave out a low whistle. 'You mean eight year old Veronica Williams? Who hasn't?' He replied. 'Is it about that?'

Dr Brady cleared his throat. 'Yeah well her psychologist's report is due in about a week and I have a bit of a problem.' He didn't miss the short silence that fell over the line. 'Hello?' He said again.

'What kind of problem?' The professor's tone was suddenly cautious, as if he were afraid to even ask the question. 'And what do you want me to do about it?'

Now it was his turn to sit in silence. He stared for a while at what he'd managed to write so far and tried to figure out how to word what he was about to say. 'I... It's inconclusive.' He stated simply. 'The report... I,' he blew out a sudden puff of air before slapping the flimsy file angrily against the desk. 'I can't conclude anyhting.'

'Shit, Brady you've got to be kidding me.' The professor sounded like he'd dropped something on the floor and had bent over to retrieve it. 'You've got to be fucking kidding me.' He said again.

Thirty five year old Ian Brady ran his hands through his hair before staring in defeat at the clock face. It read twenty to midnight. 'I wish I were, but it's 11:40 and I have absolutely nothing.'

His professor exploded. 'But you're the best there is - I should damn well know, I taught you! How can you not have anything?!' His voice lowered in volume. 'You know they'll get you for this Brady if you don't come up with something.' 

'I know, I know.' He interrupted impatiently. 'That's why I called you.'

The person on the other side blew out another angry breath before letting out a long string of curses. 'What do you want me to do?' He finally asked.

Brady didn't even bother to hesitate. 'I need you to examine her and give me a diagnosis or even just a second opinion.' He looked at the file again helplessly. 'Or something becuase I haven't got anything at all and it's ... troubling to say the least.'

'What? But I'm hundreds of miles away...' The professor trailed off and then said slowly, 'You've got nothing at all?'

'Yep, that's what I'm telling you.' Brady looked around his office in the dim office light and then said, 'I need something or else I can kiss my job good bye..' He trailed off. 'You know what they're like.'

'Alright, alright I'll see what I can do.' And then he hung up.

Brady hunched his shoulders over in relief for a few seconds before decideing to go home and lock up for the night. It was no use worrying about what couldn't be fixed for the moment, and he needed a good night's sleep.