Sandy was shown into Solomon's office. Normally they saw each other to drink. Sandy was dressed in his green healer robes. He carried a leather bag. Sandy was there to examine a prisoner. It was a job healers sometimes had to do. The prisoner had already been to hospital when they arrested him. He had got injured. It was now several days later. Sandy was there to look at more than burned hands.

"Hello Solomon." Sandy said. He looked at his old friend. "I have finished examining Mortimer Gamp." Without invitation Sandy sat down. He put the bag beside the chair. "It is not good news." 

Solomon considered moving into his office. He was here so often. Sometimes it felt like all his significant interactions took place in the Ministry, and he marvelled at his wife's ability not to be bothered by a frequently absent husband. Merlin knew he would not stand for going home to an empty house.

The department head stood as his old friend entered the office, raising an eyebrow when the harried looking wizard took a seat right away. "It is not good news."

No. It rarely was, these days. He sighed as he came around the large desk to lean against its side and cross his arms. Poor Sandy. It wasn't easy, having to be Mortimer Gamp's Healer in this investigation.

"Hm. What is it the muggles say?" Sol mimicked a (terrible, terrible) American accent - deadpan of course. "Give it to me straight, doc?"

"Very, very good, Sol." Sandy said. He gave a thumbs up. "On the positive Gamp's hands are healing." He told Solomon. "But his mind worries me." He looked up. "And you are already worried by it. What man in his right mind kidnaps teenagers and leaves them to die?" Sandy rubbed his head. "Is it a man genuinely ill? Not of sound mind due to affliction? Or is it a man who knew exactly what he was doing? That is the question you have brought me here to answer." Sandy put his hands back into his lap. "I can not know for sure. We would need to assess him and his history. A proper diagnosis takes time and more healers. But..." He looked up at Solomon. "His callousness about the act. His lack of empathy. He does not show guilt or remorse. All suggest psychopathic tendencies."

Solomon smirked at the thumbs-up, that delightful tread between approval and sarcasm. He continued to lean against his desk as Sandy spoke, putting forth more questions than there were answers to go around: all of them focused on the single goal, to ascertain whether or not Gamp was fit for Azkaban. Question marks were awful. It was only at the Healer's last statement, that Sol could feel a weight lift.

            "All suggest psychopathic tendencies."

There it was. The confident conjecture of a professional, one who had no vested personal interest in Mortimer and whose testimony would be easily accepted.

"He didn't sound much like a man who 'knew exactly what he was doing' when we conducted out initial interview[1]" the Department Head sighed, propping his spectacles up on his forehead. It simply had to be an unstable mentality.

Not only because reason demanded it but because appearance did as well. An outright evil bastard running level nine was a more dangerous headline than a man who had driven himself mad.

"Are you willing to do this then, Sandy? We would need an official report... of course it doesn't have to be certain. But as certain as can be, considering his mental state." Solomon swallowed, hands going into his pockets unconsciously. "Do you think he's always been like this? Or is it something that had developed over the years?"

1.	Mischief Maintained, Mischief Explained.... - 15th Feb

"I am certain." Sandy said. "It is not appropriate to incarcerate Mortimer Gamp. Not in the short term." Sandy shook his head. "You know my professional judgement will be exercised as independently as possible. I will not be influenced by political pressures nor by factors such as the social standing of the patient." It was his oath. He was not stupid. He knew Carstairs had to punish Mortimer Gamp. He knew Carstairs had to find out why it happened. Sandy thought about Solomon's questions. "I know of Mortimer in the past. But I do not know him well enough to judge his character. He has been an unspeakable a long time. We have unspeakables younger than him." Sandy frowned. "Unless there was a significant triggering event. Spell damage. I do not think this is just an episode. We will need to speak to those close to him. His family. Colleagues. Mrs Gamp."

Solomon nodded sombrely as his friend spoke, going over what he knew about Mortimer Gamp in his mind. Sandy was adamant about not resorting to incarceration - but he didn't have to be. This was preferable. A former department head in hospital would look better on record for the Ministry; better than one in Azkaban at any rate. He turned around to resumed his position behind his desk, still silent.

"High security, private room in St.Mungo's?" Sol settled on the heart of their situation, which was to think in terms of action rather than morality.

He sat down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You can conduct any other interviews you deem necessary while he is held in a medical setting. Find a triggering event, if you can. It won't matter to anyone but us at that point, once the papers are over this scandal value."

"I shall write up my report. I will need to send it to Healer Hughes in charge of spell damage. Head Healer Storm will need to sign. I will do my best to hurry the process. Mortimer Gamp needs urgent care." Sandy said. "I imagine the clever sorts here and at the hospital can spin an angle to the press." He smiled. Sandy knew very well. He owned a magazine. "We will contact the family soon. But if you speak with them, St. Mungo's doors are open to them." Sandy straightened his tie. "Is that all you need from me for now Solomon?"

"Mortimer Gamp needs urgent care."

Solomon raised an eyebrow at this, his smile turning grim. Most people would agree that Gamp needed care - but of a very different nature indeed. If it were personally up to him, the man would be locked up in a room with no windows for the remainder of his miserable life. Sandy seemed convinced otherwise.

"You know the clever sorts well, Sandy." Sol offered his hand for his old friend to shake. "That's all I need today. You've been invaluable but we really must have drinks one of these days."

He released the other wizard, laughing lightly to himself. "Overdue some catching up, work aside."

Sandy shook Solomon's hand.
"Yes. Yes we should." Sandy said. "I would like that Sol. I would like that very much. Give my regards to Irene." Sandy nodded at Solomon. "I will be in touch."

-End-