It's another day for Theodore, it would've been a peaceful one for him, but of course, it wasn't the case, he received a call from Conan Ashfield, someone he and Lila helped in the past, who sounded disturbed, and immediately Theodore went to visit the man somewhere in a different part of the city they were in when they initially went to help him.
Time passed, at least a few months after the incident prior, and Conan waited for Theodore's arrival near an abandoned theatre.
When the TARDIS materialized nearby, Theodore stepped out, wearing a dark navy long coat with fitting trousers and a frilly white puffy shirt to go along with the assemble, topped with a black bow loosely tied around the collar.
His icy blue eyes locking with him, Theodore went over to Conan, waiting for him nearby, hardly changed since he saw him last, inquiring what caused the man to call him once more, and Conan looked horrified as he led Theodore around the building towards a newspaper stand.
"It just happened," Conan tells him as he grabbed a folded newspaper from the stack, flipping the pages, until he found a news article, showing Theodore.
In his large hands, Theodore reads the newspaper, describing the sudden death of Professor Stanford, found dead in his cell, the details of his death absent in the article, but Conan managed to find out the details from having contacts inside the prison where Prison Stanford resided since he'd been imprisoned following his conviction for the abuses committed against his students.
"His head… his head was gone…" Conan described what happened to Professor Stanford from what he gotten from his contacts, colour missing from his face.
His contacts' reliable, they don't have a reason to lie to him, they themselves despised Professor Stanford for what he done to his students, but they wouldn't make up details like this, nor would they risk it all just to kill him.
It started with Professor Stanford repeatedly complaining of headaches weeks before the incident, enough that the nurses had to give him over-the-counter migraine medicine to dull the pain.
Whatever migraines he had, they were intense enough to send the man to the ground, curled up in a fetal position.
He was supposed to have a doctor come by and check on him, but that didn't come to pass, because the following morning before the doctor would've visited his cell, the prison guards found Professor Stanford slumped in a corner of his cell.
They described the grisly sight as someone popping a balloon filled with red paint.
All that remained was his neck, everything else above, disintegrated into red paste.
Took the guards hours to stop vomiting from the sight and the prison went under lockdown while they tried figuring out how Professor Stanford died, but found no probable cause. He was in solitary confinement due to the threats received by his fellow inmates, but they weren't responsible for his death, they'd been transferred elsewhere prior to it.
Checking on the cameras, they didn't see anything out of the ordinary, Professor Stanford near the corner of his cell, his migraine causing him pain, and the next minute, he was lying dead, his head gone.
No weapon was found in his cell, no one gone in, everything checked out, leaving only more questions than answers.
Seeing the date, the death happened just shy six months after the previous incident, long after Professor Stanford started his sentence.
"Did he have visitors?" Theodore asks Conan as he lit a cigarette, deep in thought.
He asked Theodore if he wanted one, but he declined, before Conan said that outside his lawyer, nobody visited the disavowed professor.
Media circus enjoyed using him as filler for the last few months, they've been working into overtime due to his sudden death.
They'll be in a fury the moment it comes out what happened to him, so far, the prison's keeping that under wraps until they figure out how to spin it.
They've been getting medical experts on NDAs and bringing them to the body, but no one's able to figure out what happened to make his mind turn into minced meat.
It caused Theodore pause and he remembered what Professor Stanford said to him.
The trustee made him into a telepath, but after Theodore got through with him, he shouldn't have been able to attempt it ever again.
Curious, Theodore inquired if Conan ever heard about a trustee that Professor Stanford had arguments with and if the trustee ever turned up at all since his imprisonment.
While the white smoke plumed from his cigarette, Conan responded that he never heard of the trustee coming around, but he hadn't bothered keeping up with the details, except with Professor Stanford.
"They got his body stowed away; they're going to reveal details in the coming weeks. I don't even know how they're supposed to spin this," Conan dryly tells Theodore that the officials haven't an idea on how to go through with the fact their isolated prisoner's head exploded without reason, no signs of explosives, bullets, medical reasons, nothing that accurately explained what happened.
Even with the footage, he doesn't even know if they can get public opinion to sway, one moment the professor's fine, next his head popped like a pimple, with no weapon found, no sign of anyone in the cell with him.
"Truly bizarre," Theodore noted that from Conan says, there's no logical explanation for how Professor Stanford died, and without something more conclusive, he'll become a cold case.
As he nods, puffing smoke, Conan says that it's been difficult, and Theodore inquired about Eve, how she's faring these days, and Conan informed him that it took a while, but they're back together, mending their relationship.
It took time, she still has moments, but she's doing better than she did before, and it led Conan into revealing that she doesn't react as much without the coin the professor handed to her in her hands anymore.
"What happened to it?" Theodore inquired what happened to the coin that he'd taken from Professor Stanford and Conan said that it became lost.
It was at the point that Eve no longer needed it and she remembered putting it up somewhere, the only reason Conan knew about it missing's that he wanted to take it to a lawyer, in hopes of suing Professor Stanford once more.
"What about the others?" Theodore continued while Conan puffed his cigarette, his blue eyes glistening in the ember.
As he puffed, Conan answered that the others' slowly getting better, too, and out of curiosity, he wanted to borrow their coins for the lawsuit, but they've all misplaced them, apparently.
"One of them went through their flat, top to bottom, couldn't find it," Conan explains what he heard from talking to Professor Stanford's former victims.
Coincidentally, all his former victims lost their coins, even one had it disappear from his pants drawer.
They couldn't find them and they're certain nobody took them, nor did they misplace them, hard to misplace a reminder of the pain and suffering they went through during their time with their disavowed professor.
Growing curious, Theodore wondered what happened to them, and Conan responded that he didn't know, he even went far as asking his contacts if they had any coins in storage with the other evidence, and they checked on his behalf, but found nothing.
Went online, nobody's selling them, couldn't find anyone who might've had a coin stowed away.
Like they've all disappeared from their respected hiding spots.
Theodore knows the same feeling, he hadn't found the coin he'd taken from Professor Stanford, even despite his attempts at taking apart his flat, he couldn't find it, and Conan said that without the coin, he can't make a case.
"If that trustee came around, maybe with his testimony," Conan responded that if the trustee turned up, he could've approached the man into testifying against Professor Stanford, but with the professor's death and the lack of information on the trustee, well, he didn't have anything.
With no one helming the estate, it's only a matter of time before someone sues it for compensation, even then, Conan doesn't think the remaining coins would've been among the itinerary.
Frowning, Theodore mulled over the words while Conan finished his cigarette, realizing that there's no chance he'll find a replacement coin to study, and even with a detail drawing, he can't quite come up with an origin on the coins without one in his hand.
"Had anyone else suffered the same fate as him?" Theodore inquired if the same thing happened to the professor happened to someone else and Conan thoughtfully replied that he hadn't heard anything like it happen after Professor Stanford's death.
He was the only one it happened with and once more, there's no evidence suggesting what might've caused his head to explode the way it did.
Pondering quietly, Theodore went over what the professor told him when he roughed him up.
He said that the trustee made him into a telepath, something unheard of in this universe, and the way his head exploded, could've been because of the procedure.
Or perhaps, something that Theodore mulled over, that the trustee didn't want Professor Stanford talking.
It'd explain why the coins suddenly disappeared the way they did, but it didn't explain how nobody saw the trustee.
Stamping out his cigarette with the heel of his shoe, Conan sighed as he said that he's just happy that the professor's dead.
Cruel as it may be, he didn't warrant any sympathy from Conan, he's just sad that the professor won't serve the life sentence that he gotten for the abuse he did to his students.
Checking his wristwatch, Conan sees that his time with Theodore's coming to an end, he's supposed to be back at work, and Theodore thanked him for his time, before the man thanked him for everything, he did for them.
"Oh, I'm just the Doctor," Theodore bashfully said that it wasn't like he rescued them from an underground cave system, but Conan pointed out that Theodore was the only one who figured out the truth, and made the professor confess to his crimes.
Even the most despicable of lawyers couldn't try to spin his side of the story if they tried, they didn't even like being his lawyer, and that said a lot, honestly.
"Mind greeting Eve on my behalf?" Theodore asked Conan if he'd tell Eve he popped up and said hello, unable to tell her in person, and Conan agreed to his request, saying that he'd serve Theodore a giant turkey with the works for everything he did for them.
Bashful, Theodore swatted the air, the smoke dissipating in the air from his hand, as he said that it was his job.
Seeing him off, Theodore stood near the TARDIS, a look on his face.
"Father never said anything about it happening," Theodore recalled what his father told him when he was younger, when he was a budding telepath, trying to grasp his newfound gifts, and how his father eloquently explained how their telepathy worked.
He's aware that if he went somewhere he shouldn't, poking places he wasn't allowed, generally disallowed from doing it, Theodore could've hurt someone, worse's an aneurysm.
Never a head exploding.
But he checked Professor Stanford, there was nothing in his mind, nothing pointing to an implant, nothing.
Telepaths can't possibly make heads explode like they're in "Scanner."
Turning someone into a vegetative state's as about what Theodore's capable of if he's thoroughly pushed hard enough and there's no alternative.
It didn't make sense to Theodore and even when he tried to come up with answers, his poor brain barely functioned, overworked from trying to do multiple things at once.
Conan's certain the trustee hadn't come around and nobody said they saw anyone suspicious near their homes before their respected coins disappeared, it's intriguing to Theodore.
However, he couldn't come up with an answer on his own, so he turned towards the only person that'll have something for him, Al.
Al materialized before Theodore and the aloof giant besieged him with everything under the sun, knowing the TARDIS' newly improved state would've allowed him to find answers he would've normally been unable to in the past.
"Did you ever figure out what the coin was when I had it?" Theodore asks Al what he found from his initial scans of the coin that he couldn't before and the avatar replied that he couldn't find records of the coins.
If they're handmade, the trustee went the distance making them, but the scorched backs, Al doesn't think they're cosmetic, like some fashion designer's adult bib with painted stains, he thinks the coins were in a fire a long time ago, but couldn't find an article with anything mentioning a fire in connection with the trustee.
Despite his previous attempts, even Al can't find out more about the trustee, he did everything he could, but he hit enough walls to make a cartoon coyote hand him a bottle of ACME migraine medicine.
Theodore inquired why Al error'd during the initial search, but the avatar grew uncomfortably quiet, before finally saying that he hit a wall in his search, it messed him up, to the point he nearly shutdown hadn't Theodore went and temporary fixed him.
Noticing the disproving look on Theodore's face, Al swears that he's doing everything he can, but he isn't a miracle worker.
"You're supposed to be reliable, Al," Theodore pointed out that Al's supposed to be one of the most advanced things in the world, nothing should've stumped him, but the avatar meekly answered that he wasn't in a good place, then.
Now, he can't think of everything, it wasn't like he was a know-it-all.
He has limitations, as much as Theodore's father would've disagreed, he's just lucky that the Council didn't have his internals gutted before they planned on scrapping him.
"Al, can't you give me something?" Theodore held out his hands, imploring the TARDIS into telling him something that'll help him with his long-winded quest in answers.
Al barely figured out what happened to Stumpy, the aptly named head of a Cyberman, he seemingly can't come up with answers on the trustee.
Chewing on his inner lip as he tapped his cigarette against the lip of the ashtray, Al conceded, saying that they weren't wrong, that the trustee wasn't British, he was foreign, but he can't find so much as a birth certificate or a passport.
He's look in all the usual places, even the illegal places, but no one with the description turned up, and he never found anything suggesting the trustee left the island, but he can't find if the trustee died or whatever came to mind.
"How many people do you know have lavender eyes?" Theodore asks Al as he struggled coming up with answers.
Pondering, Al struggled, saying that it's possible that the woman Theodore spoke with's exaggerating on the details, no one short of costuming as a vampire or a popular character had lavender eyes.
As he frowns, Theodore swears that he believed Lydia when she said that the trustee had lavender eyes, and would've loved to interview her again just to be sure, hadn't Al informed him that she passed away in her sleep, heart attack, shy two months after he and Lila left.
"But what if she's right, Al, what if there was a man with lavender eyes?" Theodore gestured as he tried to work with Al.
He pressed for answers until Al received a new message, it's from Theodore's uncle, asking his help with something, and dutifully, Theodore obliged, going over to the console, and sending them back to his flat.
He tells Al that they'll discuss this another time as he left, leaving Al alone in the console room, smoking his cigarette.
When he's sure that Theodore's out of earshot, Al exhaled sharply, as smoke poured out of his mouth.
"Oh, there's a man with lavender eyes all right, kid, but he ain't someone you wanna meet!" Al coughed as he nervously looked around. No one else in the console room except him, he's sure of it, and he glanced up to the ceiling as he called out, "Medi, I thought you took care of it!"
THE END