Digger - The Doctor Will See You Now by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 20

He rose mid-morning the next day and logging onto the website for the Portland Press, Ryan was not surprised to find an article outlining another grave robbery. Police still had no solid leads but had obtained a warrant to examine the records from every psychiatric facility in southern Maine. This included the archived records of the Augusta Mental Health Institute. It had been closed for some time, but investigators were looking at specific behaviors that might lead them to a suspect. They had also posted a profile assembled by the FBI. It was their best guess but completely wrong. Yet, in spite of mounting concerns by local authorities, Ryan remained unconcerned. His fascination with death had completely consumed him. So much so, that he completely lost sight of the consequences of his actions. Dissecting the dead was starting to become more of a hobby and less of a learning exercise. More than that, the media had done something rarely reserved for serial killers. They gave him a nickname — ‘Digger’. This media spectacle irritated Ryan. The last thing he wanted was to attract attention to himself, having become much more private to the point of self-imposed exile, and he had not seen his mother in months.

But none of this stopped him, and he continued combing the obituaries and funeral listings. His search had taken him into Biddeford, where he maintained his activities under the cover of night. He thought of it as ‘body recovery’. The words ‘grave robbing’ seemed harsh and dirty. Ryan’s preferred description took out the humanness of something that could end with his incarceration. But again, this was not a concern for him. It had never even occurred to him but lay dormant somewhere deep in his subconscious, out of the way.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Ryan’s anatomical collection had grown to seven. His new ‘specimens’ included a middle-aged man, bald, with a whitish-gray goatee. His body, both inside and out, was in perfect condition. Making a closer examination, Ryan was puzzled as to how someone who seemed to be in such good health could have died so young. Also, hanging from the ceiling was the body of a woman, perhaps in her early sixties, with white, curly hair. He no longer paid attention to the names. They had simply become empty shells, devoid of whatever it was that once made them human. The lives they lived. The people they left behind. If Ryan had ever cared, it was now clear he no longer did. They were just curious objects to be pulled apart, held at the mercy of the final act of control.

The white-haired woman’s body had been dissected in much the same way as the others. However, Ryan had taken the extra time to remove the reproductive organs -- uterus, ovaries, everything. Dissecting out the vagina, Ryan turned it inside out and discovered several open sores. Further down the organ, he found two other growths indicative of a sexually transmitted disease and handling it carefully, he knew that even in a dead host, some viruses can live for days. After laying the organs out, he looked over at the dead woman’s face.

“You’re a little old to be a party girl, aren’t you?” The vagina and cervix he stored in his specimen jar. Everything else was placed back into the body. Now, it hung from the ceiling with the rest of Ryan’s collection. The china cabinets he purchased for the storage of specimen jars was overflowing. The remainder lined the wall after being carefully stacked. Occasionally, when he wasn’t dismantling the dead, Ryan would spend hours holding each jar up to the light, studying their contents. But there was something gnawing at him, something he couldn’t put his finger on. He had become so involved in what he was certain would get him back into UNE, that there seemed to be no time for him to consider the source of this new emotion. He did know the police were investigating and made the assumption that most cemeteries were being closely watched.

Ryan thought it might be time to take a small break, taking the time to study, review his notes, and examine organs. But he began to feel the need to get out. Normally, he tried to spend as much time away from people as possible. However, sometimes, a little socialization can be a good thing and while he didn’t think he’d meet anyone, Ryan looked forward to a bit of human contact. At the same time, it had been quite a while since he had been with a woman. But bringing someone back to the cabin was out of the question, considering what he was keeping in the basement.

Before leaving, Ryan sprayed the body’s down with bleach again. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be out and didn’t want to return to a house filled with the smell of decay. He never saw anyone in this part of the woods, much less experienced a break-in. But given what he was doing in his basement, Ryan began developing a feeling of paranoia and locked the doors and windows. It wasn’t something that overwhelmed him, but it did lead him to a certain degree of suspicion. He got into his car and, turning it around to face the dirt road, slowly made his way toward the main road, glancing in the rearview mirror, back towards the cabin. Reaching the main road, Ryan hesitated just before turning onto the pavement. Looking back behind him, he realized he’d never been away from the cabin for this long. He had always isolated himself. Even at USM.