Our request to have the bank account shut down got denied, even with all the evidence against it. It was protected by an individual in the FBI named “Fisk.” Of course, I was furious, but since this order came from so high up, there’s nothing I can do about it.
We haven’t gotten anything useful out of our prisoner, nothing about why he did what he did, no name, nothing. I was getting furious with him and I was able to finally get him to react, however. He just looked at me and said, “You bear his mark.” I have no idea what this was supposed to mean, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind anymore that this guy isn’t sane. None the less, he reacted, so I think we’re finally getting through to him.
My paranoia has also been coming back in flashes, today. I looked over my shoulder eleven times already. Something about this guy in the station doesn’t feel right, aside from his apparent lack of a sound mind. I’m still losing sleep and cleaning my house obsessively, but it’s not as bad anymore. I’ll try to update again tomorrow, Vicki. See you on Saturday.
-Kemble
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