Doctor Jonathan Crane Novels & Stories

The blackmail files hit at seven this evening. I know this because Warden Crane, who is not related to the administrator but who has the same quality of someone who has been inside an institution long enough that the institution's logic has replaced their own, began behaving differently at seven this evening in the specific way that people behave when something has happened to the information they were depending on to keep other people quiet.

"Suicide. Single gunshot to the head. Hotel room at the Veritas. My people found him twenty minutes ago. He was already cold." “At least he was thorough. And saved me the trouble of testifying.” "He left a note." "What kind of note?" "A confession. Handwritten, notarized yesterday." He spoke in short bursts, each word precise and hard. "Insurance fraud, patient murders, conspiracy to commit murder." "And a partner. Dr. Richard Chen.” My hands went numb. "Who?" "Dr. Richard Chen. Chief of Internal Medicine at Boston Memorial. Your old colleague." Dr. Chen. My mentor. The man who'd recommended me for residency, who'd praised my work.

The embers glow orange. Marcus is outside, checking the perimeter. I hear his boots on the gravel, the soft crackle of his radio, the murmur of his voice. Every few minutes, he passes by the window, a shadow in the dark. My phone buzzes. A text from Julian. Crane is moving. He left Switzerland. He is flying to the city. Arrives tomorrow morning. Whitmore is staying behind at the compound. Crane is coming alone, but he will have security with him. He wants to meet. Neutral ground. He says he has information about Whitmore's plans.

She hesitated for half a second before entering. “Close the door.” She obeyed. Dr. Crane stood behind his desk, removing his coat slowly, revealing sleeves rolled to his elbows. His forearms were corded, veined, lightly dusted with dark hair. He leaned against the desk’s edge, watching her like a specimen under glass. “You want to be a doctor,” he said simply. “Yes.” “You want to learn from the best.” “Yes, sir.” “Then understand this. In medicine, one wrong move gets someone killed. A misstep isn’t a mistake. It’s a death sentence. I don’t tolerate incompetence.”

“Uh… guy named Lennox was my contact on two of the runs. Big, shaved head, snake tattoo on his neck, and there’s another guy calls himself ‘Crane.’ Quiet type, real twitchy.” “Crane works the East end,” Luca said, not missing a beat as he scribbled it all down. “I’ve heard of him.” Shawn blinked like he was surprised they knew more than he did. “Yeah, well, they don’t tell me much. I’m low-level. Disposable.” Emilio arched a brow. “We figured that out on our own. In truth I doubt your important to anyone.”

Think about something, make up something, Enola. Me: Mr Crane, I am not talking about you, I am talking about someone else. Crane: Who is someone else? Last time I checked, I have a letter C tattooed on my arm. That was in your essay. F^ck! I am screwed. Me: Mr Crane, I can explain...It's not what you think. Crane: Oh, it is exactly what I think it is. I am coming over to you so that you can explain to me. I will let you know how I explore, because my ways of exploring are more than what you can ever imagine.

Charlie asked, shaking the man’s hand. “It’s lovely to meet both of you,” Dr. Morgan said, releasing Charlie’s hand to take Meg’s. She noticed his grip was rather slack and his voice gentle. “It’s nice to meet you as well,” Meg said. “This is my man Jonathan Lane, and Meg’s lady Carrie….” “Boxhall,” Carrie supplied as the doctor shook her hand in turn. “How do you do?” “This is my assistant Edward Dane,” Dr. Morgan said, and everyone said hello to him as well, though with this greeting Meg noticed a glimmer of something pass between Jonathan and this Edward fellow as he looked at each of them and gave a soft hello.

The city spreads below us through floor-to-ceiling windows. “This is insane,” Harper says. “All of this. The attacks, the lies, the public warfare.” “Welcome to my life.” I try to smile. It doesn’t work. Nathan’s laptop pings. His expression changes. “What?” I ask. He turns the screen toward us. Breaking news footage. Police escorting someone from Crane Enterprises. Lydia Crane. Hands cuffed. Face twisted with rage. The headline scrolls: LYDIA CRANE ARRESTED ON MULTIPLE CHARGES. MARCUS HALE WARRANT ISSUED.

“Defense.” “We have one more witness your honor.” “Proceed.” Crane got up and walked over to the stand and the people gasped. The bailiff followed. “Do you swear to uphold the law and abided by the rules of this court?” “Of course.” “That's a yes or no Dr. Crane.” “Then yes.” He smiles and nods. “Please state your full name and spell your last.” “Jonathan Crane. C-R-A-N-E.” “Have a seat.” “Dr. Crane, how long have you been a doctor at Arkham Asylum?”

The girl seemed willing to talk. - The Doctor. Jonathan asked me to tell you that he will be coming soon, it won't be long... I'm Chang, I work on the ward in the surgery ward. A patient of mine was operated on this afternoon for appendicitis... Dr. Jonathan did a wonderful operation, in fact he always does. If I were you, I wouldn't listen to what Chris said. He says a lot of lip service. In fact, he is one of Dr. Jonathan though doesn't like to admit it. Chris seems a little crazy and irresponsible but when he's working he's unrecognizable, serious and focused.