“Start from the beginning, Marco.”
“From what Doc said, everything was going pretty well—at least normally—when… Jeez, he just went off his rocker.”
“What stage was Menendez in at this time?”
“Just the first stage of treatment. He was undergoing initial phase brain probe treatment. He’d been subjected to it eight or ten times. Doc said he’d have to check his notes to get an accurate number. It will be on my report.”
“First stage? He was still in the initial stage?”
“Yeah, for about a month.”
“I know. I had him brought here about a month ago.”
“He resisted just like his ex-wife did. It took her six months to be cured… well… you know that. The way Menendez was going, it would have been probably as long. You can’t always tell, according to Doc Grifton. Some guys stay in Stage 1 for a month… hell, even longer; then fly through the remaining stages.”
“What was Grifton doing here in the first place? I thought… oh, what was his name?”
“Pinzon, Dr. Pinzon, sir. He trained under Doc Sistrunk.”
“So, how did Grifton get involved?”
“It was just recently, sir. When Doc Pinzon was having trouble making progress with Menendez he called on Doc Grifton for help.”
“All right, tell me what happened when he went nuts.”
“It’s like I said, he received eight or nine sessions—I’ll have the exact amount in my final report—and I guess he just couldn’t take it anymore. He was strapped in the chair, given several probes and then released. He appeared pretty much out of it. They usually have to carry him to the table, but this time he stood up on his own, like a drunk who’s still on his feet, but he spoke quite clearly.”
“What’d he say?”
“He said, ‘I’m feeling much better now.’”
“He just went through a brain probe treatment and said he’s feeling better now?”
“Doc thought he was probably in shock. He says it happens sometimes. Anyway, doc says he asked Menendez if he needed help getting on the table, and he says ‘no, it won’t be necessary’. He figured he meant he would climb on the table by himself, but we know now that isn’t what he meant.”
“Then what happened?”
“That’s when he went nuts, sir. He grabbed a bottle of some chemical—I’ll have the exact specimen in my report. Anyway, he clobbers the guard with the bottle in the forehead so the chemicals dripped into his eyes. He screamed and covered them. Then Menendez grabbed a scalpel and—oh, Jeez—just slit the poor bastard’s throat with it.”
“What was the doc doing when this was going on?”
“He froze.”
“What did Menendez do next?”
“Well… and this is the difficult part, sir. Menendez grabbed hold of the doctor and forced him in the chair. I believe the report, sir, will indicate he slugged the doctor, and then forced him in the chair. Anyway, sir, he turned the machine back on. Doc realized what he was going to do and pleaded with him not to touch the probe; that it was a delicate instrument—”
“I know, I know, Marco. Now, was Grifton strapped down?”
“Sorry, I forgot to mention that. Yeah, he strapped his arms and feet in.”
“Didn’t Doctor Grifton struggle with him?”
“Doc said Menendez overpowered him. I don’t think Doc’s very strong. He’s kind of old, sir. He screamed but no one came downstairs.”
“How can that be?”
“According to the other guard, he assumed it was Menendez screaming. He simply ignored it. He says it was just business. He doesn’t go down unless he’s called.”
“Wasn’t Doc calling for him?”
“No. Doc says Menendez was going to kill him if he yelled for anyone. He still had the scalpel in his hand. Doc says he was scared shitless.”
“What about the others: nurse, recorder, others?”
“On break. I guess Menendez just waited for the right opportunity.”
“Okay. Then what happened?”
“Menendez strapped him in. Then he turned on the machine and dialed the volume up high. Doc didn’t think he would know how to use the machine, but he must have been paying attention. Doc tried to talk him through the adjustment process, but Menendez would have nothing of it. Doc tried to reason with him. He said you have to use lower settings or it could destroy the brain. Are you ready for this, Commandant?”
“Go ahead.”
“Doc says Menendez just had this look of a maniac. He had a grin on his face like… Jeez, how do I describe it? It was like that grin Jack Nicholson had in the movie, The Shining, when he went after his wife with the axe.”
“Less dramatics, Paoli. So I guess he turned on the machine?”
“Oh, yeah. Then he planted the probe right on his noggin. That’s when Doc let out a real scream. His whole body went tense. Menendez just kept wiggling it around. He learned that whenever Doc Pinzon wiggled it, it hurt more. Now, this is when it got really creepy. Menendez, with that same diabolical smile says, ‘Like it doc? How ‘bout another one?’ Then he sticks the probe on another part of his noggin. Then he says, ‘Like it here,’ and sticks it in another part of his head and says, ‘How ‘bout there, and there, and there’. All the while he keeps jabbing and wiggling the probe. Then he stopped to taunt the doctor.”
“What did he say?”
“‘There, there, now. That wasn’t so bad now. Oh, you make such a fuss’—shit like that. Doc said it was like he was drilling holes in his brain. Then he resumed jabbing him. All the while Doc says Menendez just had this murderous look on his face while he’s jabbing him.”
“That’s enough, Paoli. I get it. About how many times did he jab him?”
“Doc says he doesn’t know. It just seemed to go on, and on, and on.”
“Was Doc still conscious?”
“Doc says he doesn’t know when he lost consciousness. When he came around he was sitting on the floor right over there. That’s where we found him.”
“Then what happened?”
“Well, this part is speculation. There weren’t any witnesses, but the evidence points to what happened next. Menendez got back on the chair. He evidently took the thing off its holder and was holding the probe in his hand. He sat down in the chair. Ah, Jeez.”
“Go on, Paoli. What did he do?”
“He taped the damn thing to his head. Then he pushed the ON button. The upstairs guard heard continuous screaming that lasted about ten minutes. He’d never heard anything like that before and it scared him. So he came downstairs.”
Casimir just looked at him.
“Well, he started to come down the stairs and the screaming stopped. He said he stopped as well, and thought about going back up, but there was a strange silence. He said he slowly walked down the stairs. He said he should have heard some talking or moving around, but there was total silence. ‘This wasn’t right,’ he said. So he came all the way down, and he saw the first guard dead; then he saw Doc Grifton barely moving, but pointing to the chair. Christ, sir, I’m sorry, but I’ll never get that look out of my mind. He was still in that chair when I came in.”
“What did you see, Marco?”
“It was Menendez, sir, sitting in that chair with the probe taped to him. His head was cocked to one side, and his mouth was wide open in a frozen look of horror. His face was bright red with tear streaks on his cheek. His pants and the floor below the chair were all wet with urine.”
Paoli stopped to get another sip of water. “It wasn’t like anything I ever saw before. We took plenty of photos. They’ll be in the final report.”
“The thing I can’t figure out,” Casimir said, “was why did he do it? Why didn’t he try to escape? He could have taken the gun from the dead guard. Once he got rid of the upstairs guard he could have made it to freedom.”