#mortimer todd

Who is this Mortimer you speak of?

Examining the case file one more time, Sam found it difficult to keep his jaw from dropping all the way to the ground. Hard. He'd gotten his new patient info for the day, and the word "confused" didn't even begin to cover his feelings in the slightest. Of all of the doctors in the hospital, why the hell was he being assigned such an... important patient? As a resident? And what the hell was going to happen if he screwed this up?

The details were almost blurring on the page, he'd read them so many times. The name was there, but usually the doctor didn't recognize the names of his patients from the headlines of the "Local" section of the papers. He was well-known, to say the least. And it wasn't for anything remotely good. Known criminal, nabbed for robbery and assault. And Sam had to attend to him during his stay post-surgery to remove a bullet. This was going to be fun. (Sam was awful with sarcasm, but this seemed like a situation that required it.)

As a note at the bottom of the file caught his eye, Sam habitually refocused his glasses to take a better look at it. Oh, great. During treatment, he had to communicate with Detective Inspector Mortimer Todd. And allow him access to the patient for questioning once his health had risen a bit more. Sam hated cops. Even when he wasn't doing anything wrong, just knowing that an officer was nearby gave him the creeps and a mad case of paranoia. If he said the wrong thing, or looked any bit suspicious... He couldn't risk being found out. It was unthinkable. The resident doc knew he had to be very,verycareful in the next few weeks. If not... he was in for some serious shit.