THE SCENT OF ROSES

This is an alternate GH story that we wrote in July and August of 1993. Ryan was awaiting trial for his crimes. As of yet all of Ryan's misdeeds had not been established beyond a doubt, but nevertheless much of the story is from Ryan's viewpoint, and he is an unreliable narrator. This was pre-Jessica's death and months before Kevin's first appearance. We knew that there was a twin conceived of, but at that time he had no identity, so we gave him one of our own. Garcia, at the time, had no first name. The italicized portions place this story inside a larger, but mostly unwritten, story we conceived for the show.

Ryan laughed bitterly. "If you had a case you wouldn't need my confession."

Jessica shook her head. "I've got enough to put you away for the rest of your life."

"And I've had enough cliches to last me that long," Ryan said sarcastically. He moved closer to the bars.

Jessica could not control the reflex. She stepped backwards.

"I've already asked for another lawyer," he told her. "Why don't I have one yet?"

"He's on his way. These things take time." said Jessica.

"Until he gets here, I don't have anything to say." He walked away from her, returning to his bunk.

"Well, here's another cliche," she said. "We've got you right where we want you and you're not going anywhere." Jessica left him alone.

Ryan addressed the space where she had been. "Don't bet on it."

TUESDAY JULY 13TH

"You mean you'll marry me and let me build you a house?" He asked her, incredulous that she might be considering it.

"We can build it together," she lied.

"If you mean it, say it. Say you'll marry me," he insisted.

"Yes, I'll marry you."

It had all been a lie, hadn't it? "No, no, I didn't want them here. Shut up, Sean. Haven't you caused enough damage. Go away, Mac!"

He remembered her protests. If Mac and Sean hadn't shown up, would she have gone with him? Would those dreams have come true? No, she was just like all the others, he tried to remind himself. The pain of her betrayal was worse than any punishment they could give him.He could never trust her again. But he admitted to himself that he could never stop loving her.

WEDNESDAY JULY 14TH

Ryan was startled when the door to the room abruptly swung open. The guard ushered in a casually dressed man, who held a briefcase. "Hello, Dr. Chamberlain. My name is Jerald Price. I'm your new lawyer." The attorney reached out to shake Ryan's hand and continued talking as he set his briefcase on the table. "Sorry, McClean had to drop your case. He was called out of town. Big case in Buffalo. I'd have been here sooner, but the Public Defender's office is shorthanded."

Ryan drew breath to say something, but was prevented by the lawyers incessant flow of words. "I've been looking over your case and I think we have something to work with here." Price pulled a manila folder out of the briefcase. "They've indicted you on four counts of assault and one count of murder. There are some charges pending in Texas, but we don't have to worry about those right now."

Ryan pulled out a chair to sit down. "I think....."

Price interrupted him. "Of course, the murder charge will never stick: corpus delicti and all that. That recorded confession is damaging, but might be inadmissible. I think it's possible we could cut a deal with the D.A.."

Ryan held out his hands. "Wait a minute, Mister, whatever you said your name was, I didn't kill anybody."

The lawyer drew a piece of paper out of the folder. "Price, Jerald Price." Whatever was on the paper seemed to bother him. "I also think it would be a good idea if you had a psychological evaluation as soon as possible."

"I had an evaluation when I got here," Ryan said slowly.

"Prison shrink. We want someone more objective," said Price.

"What difference does it make?" Ryan asked. "I'm never going to get a fair trial in this town."

Price was excited. "Change of venue. Good idea." He jotted down a note to himself. "I'll need a new deposition from you. The previous ones are very incomplete, I noticed. I'll have to get depositions from these other people: Felicia Jones, Steve and Audrey Hardy, Malcolm Scorpio, Sean Donely. I'm convinced there are some irregularities that could be to our advantage. You've been holding down a regular job for the past year. That's good. And I need to know if you have any character witnesses. That could be a big help."

"Character witnesses?" Ryan said doubtfully.

"Yes, make a list. The record's a little unclear; Were you mirandized?"

Ryan shrugged. "They read me my rights."

"Off a card?" Price asked.

Ryan stared at him. "It was the police commissioner.I assumed he had them memorized."

Price made another note. "Another point for our side. I'll arrange your evaluation and I'll be back tomorrow for your deposition." He tossed the folder back into the briefcase.

Ryan stood up. "That's it?"

Price thought about it. "Well, make that list."

Ryan asked, "Don't you want to know if I'm guilty?"

Price smiled. "We're all guilty...of something. At least that's what my analyst says." He rapped on the door and the guard opened it. "See you tomorrow."

Ryan sat down again. His stunned expression changed to amusement as he evaluated his new lawyer.

THURSDAY JULY 15TH

Ryan had broken into a sweat and the pupils of his dark eyes were enlarged. "I left the hospital. They were watching my car so I couldn't....and I couldn't go home. I went.....I'm not sure. I walked until morning. I went to Dr. Hardy's house."

Price leaned forward. "Why did you go there?"

"I'm not sure. I was looking for help. I don't know. I rang the doorbell, and...." Ryan hesitated. He had a flash of memory; the door opening, his mother standing there. His mother? He couldn't say that. "I don't remember. I don't remember anymore."

"Try. It's important. What's the next thing you remember?" Price prompted him.

"Uhmmm....I was at the airport. I have a private plane."

"How did you avoid the police?" Price asked, curious.

"They didn't know about it, or didn't think about it. I don't know. I got clearance and took off. Flew to Texas."

"Okay," said Price. "That's all I need. Anything outside of the state isn't relevant to our case." He switched off the tape recorder. "Let's go over this again before I have you sign the deposition. You never saw Michelle Bales, when she was in Port Charles?"

"No," Ryan agreed.

"You admit to assaulting Felicia Jones at the hospital?" Price asked.

"I didn't mean to hurt her. I never meant to hurt her. I didn't know what I was doing. I was confused. I thought she was dead." He ran his hand nervously through his hair.

"And Malcolm Scorpio?"

"Mac? He attacked me." Ryan was certain of that.

"And you don't remember the events at the home of the Hardy's?"

Ryan shook his head.

" 'I don't remember' is a good defense if you want to plead insanity. Is that what you want to do?" Price looked him in the eye.

"They were trying to drive me crazy." said Ryan.

"Was it a short drive?" was Price's taunting question. For a second, Ryan couldn't believe his lawyer had said that to him. "Excuse me?" he said, astonished.

"Ryan, you're not being straight with me. I can deal with that, but it makes my job that much harder. I'm on your side, man, but I don't want any surprises coming out of left field." Price's tone was reassuring.

"Phone calls from a dead woman, rigging my TV, my phone, harassing me day and night. That's enough to send anyone off the deep end." Ryan said, exasperated.

"The question is, was it enough for you?" Price insisted.

"Yeah, I guess it was."

THURSDAY JULY 15TH

Ryan was defensive. "So, that doesn't prove anything. She didn't find me. She's not dead!"

Price jumped on that. "How do you know she's not dead?"

"I don't!" Ryan shouted, "but I didn't kill her."

"Then why did she disappear? Did you have any other contact, by mail? By phone?" Price badgered him.

"No. I've already told you, no."

Both Ryan and his lawyer were too preoccupied to notice that Sean Donely had entered the cell block, and was intently eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Ryan, you're lying to me," Price said. "I went to the boarding house Michelle Bales was staying at. The guy wouldn't talk to the police, but he identified a picture of you and said you had left there with Michelle."

"That can't be," Ryan said carefully. "He couldn't have seen me. I wasn't there."

"You were," Price insisted. "Explain it to me. I'm trying to help you, Ryan. Don't be stupid."

"I'm not stupid," Ryan said, offended. He gave in. "When I last saw her, she was alive."

"Where did you see her?" Price said eagerly.

"I picked her up at the boarding house and took her to the bus station. She was broke and I gave her money, and she left. She was alive and well, and I didn't kill her." Ryan finished.

"Why didn't you tell the police that?" Price asked.

"The police?" Ryan laughed. "Sean Donely was trying to pin every murder since Jack the Ripper on me. He wouldn't have believed a word I said. They wouldn't believe it then and they won't believe it now."

Sean had come up to the bars. "You're right, we don't believe it. We checked the bus station and the train station and the airport. Michelle was never there. Maybe you picked her up, but you never dropped her off. You killed her and six other women, at least, and we're going to make that stick. Believe that, Chamberlain."

Price stood up and faced the police commissioner. "This is a privileged conversation between lawyer and client, commissioner. You can believe that I'm going to lodge a complaint."

"Sure," said Sean, "Right after you tell me who that witness is."

"What witness?" Price looked over at Ryan. "Do you remember anything in our privileged communication about a witness?"

Ryan didn't respond, certain that Price's question was rhetorical. He glared at Sean.

"See," said Price.

"She's alive," Ryan said softly to his lawyer so Sean had to strain to overhear. "Find her."

FRIDAY JULY 16TH

"Hello; Ryan Chamberlain," he said shaking off the inevitable angst now caused by answering telephones.

"Doctor, Jerry Price here. I've been checking into your story about the Bales girl. No one at the bus station remembers her and there's no record of her having bought a ticket. Are you sure...?"

"Yes, I am," was Ryan's vehement reply. The guard looked up. Ryan lowered his voice. "She didn't take one of the interstate buses. She took a shuttle to the New York airport."

There was silence on the other end, and Ryan sensed that his lawyer doubted his story. "I bought the ticket for her."

Jerry sighed. "Paid cash, I suppose?"

"Yes," Ryan said, his free hand closing around the phone cord. "That's bad, right?"

"Well, not for your credit rating. Best case scenario is that it makes it look like you didn't want her traced."

"And worst?" Ryan asked.

"Makes it look like you killed her and you're trying to lead your lawyer down the garden path."

Ryan closed his eyes. "I didn't kill her."

"You know this means I'll have to go down to the bus station again. I hate bus stations. Full of lost souls and lost luggage."

Ryan wondered if it wasn't his lawyer who needed the psychological evaluation.

Jerry continued, "You've done a good job of losing Michelle, but I don't think you killed her."

"You're probably the only one," said Ryan.

Another sigh, and then the lawyer's voice brightened. "I'll do my best. We need her before the trial. There's someone I know in New York who might be able to help. She's come through for me before on these kind of cases. I'll let you know what I come up with."

"Yeah, you do that," Ryan said distantly.

"Hang in there, Doc," was Jerry's last piece of advice.

"I'll try not to take you literally," Ryan said and hung up.

MONDAY JULY 19TH

RYAN HAS A DREAM

He looked away from Felicia. His mother stood in front of him. "Mother?" Ryan queried.

She pointed at him. "She doesn't love you. You're not good enough."

Ryan looked back at Felicia, but she was gone. He heard her laughter. He saw her now, beside the projector. Mac was with her, holding her hand. Sean was two steps below them pointing a gun. "Why did you kill all of us, Ryan? Why did you do it?" asked Felicia.

"Why are you all trying to hurt me?" Ryan demanded.

His mother had come closer. "Because you're evil, Ryan. You're worthless. You deserve to be hurt."

"You deserve to die," Sean put in.

"Felicia," protested Ryan. "I love you. Tell them I never hurt you."

"I never loved you," Felicia said coldly. Mac put an arm around her shoulders.

The women in the auditorium began to climb down towards the stage. "It's time to come with us, Ryan," said Gloria.

"You've been a bad boy, Ry-Baby," said his mother. "You know what I'll have to do now." She reached for him.

Ryan woke up in a cold sweat. His heart was racing. He sat up and took a deep breath. There was a clang as the outer door to the cell block slid open. Ryan looked up as his lawyer and the guard approached.

"Good news, Doc," said Jerry. He frowned, taking in Ryan's disheveled appearance. "You look like you could use some." The guard unlocked the cell, allowing Jerry to enter. Jerry sat down next to Ryan. He waited for the guard to leave, then he asked, "You, okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," said Ryan, "What did you want to tell me?"

"We've got a lead on Michelle. She was in New York. My psychic traced her to a hospital on the east side. Seems she had amnesia. They treated her and released her."

"Wait a minute," said Ryan, "Your psychic? This is the person who helps you on these kind of cases?"

"Yeah, her name's Crystal. She's good at finding missing persons, especially in the New York area. She came through for me this time. I'm sure we're getting close." Jerry said happily.

Ryan shook his head. "I don't believe this. You can't be serious."

"Sure I am, Doc. Don't worry about a thing. If nothing else, we've got the hospital records. No name on those, of course, but the descriptions dead on. It's kind of weird that this girl should have amnesia. Ms. Jones suffered from that too, didn't she?" Jerry mused.

Ryan didn't know what to say to that.

A.J. HAS A VISION

She interrupted him. "No, no you're not. We don't know if he'll ever regain consciousness."

Tony came up behind them, his insipid wife, Bobbie at his side. "Monica, Alan, I'm so sorry, things don't look good. There could be brain damage. We won't know until he wakes up."

Nurse Amy Vining emerged from A.J.'s room. "Doctor, I think he's coming out of it." The little group trouped into the room. A.J. was lying in the bed, tubes up his nose and wearing the fashionable gauze headband. He muttered something and they all leaned forward to catch his words. "You have to stop the bleeding," He mumbled.

Tony frowned and checked A.J.'s pulse. "He's coming around. I want you to be prepared. He might not be coherent."

A.J. opened his eyes. "Mom?" he asked.

"I'm right here, sweetheart," Monica answered.

A.J. looked down at his arm. "My arm, it was bleeding. They were going to cut it off."

Monica gave Alan a puzzled glance. He examined his son's arm. Alan shook his head. "There's nothing wrong with it. Tony?"

"I think he's still a little groggy. Did you have a bad dream, A.J.?" He pulled up one of A.J.'s eyelids and shone his penlight on the pupil.

Weakly, A.J. tried to push Tony's hand away. "It wasn't a dream. It was real."

Tony looked up at Alan and Monica. "I think he's still a little confused. Do you know where you are A.J.?"

A.J. looked disgusted. "Of course, I do. I'm at General Hospital. I wasn't dreaming."

Monica sat down on the bed next to him. "All right, why don't you tell us about it?"

A.J. closed his eyes to recapture the vision. "I was in this tent, lying on a cot. My arm hurt...." The memory was vivid. The arm was nearly hacked off and had a dirty piece of cloth wrapped around it. In the other hand he gripped a musket. All around him there were others on cots and on the ground, groaning and screaming and dying. A disembodied voice echoed behind him. "I'm sorry, Soldier, that arm's going to have to come off."

A.J. looked down at his arm again. "Cut it off? No. You have to stop the bleeding." His narration ended, A.J., opened his eyes to see his parents' reaction.

TUESDAY JULY 20TH

RYAN'S PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION

The evaluator waited for Ryan to continue and then prompted him, "And then what did you do?" he asked.

"I ran, but she was right behind me. I figured it was because you can't outrun an hallucination."

"Had you had any hallucinations before?" asked the psychiatrist.

"I don't think so. I wasn't having one then; she was really there."

"But at the time you weren't sure?"

"No."

"What happened next?"

"I ran into the hospital auditorium. I thought I could hide until she went away."

"But she didn't go away?"

"No. She followed me in there and....she turned on the projector so the light was shining in my eyes." Ryan paused as the memory of his dream overlapped the real events. He tried to keep it straight. "She kept saying I'd killed her. But...but she wasn't dead. Even if she had been it wasn't my fault."

"That's when you told her you'd killed other women?"

Ryan's eyes held a glint of anger. "She told me that. I was just goin' along with what she said. She said Michelle was dead. I believed her. I thought it must have been my fault or Felicia wouldn't have said that."

"And what about the others? Gloria? Sylvia?"

"I would have said anything to keep Felicia there. I wanted to talk to her...tell her I loved her. And she kept saying I killed these people."

The psychiatrist consulted some papers. "I stabbed Sylvia once and then once again when she ran"' You said that. Do you remember?"

"I remember saying it, but I never knew anyone named Sylvia." Ryan asserted.

"Then why pick that name?"

"I don't know. It matched the initial S. It's what Felicia wanted to hear. I didn't think it mattered what I said. I didn't think anyone was really there," said Ryan.

"And what about your mother?"

Ryan scowled. "What about my mother?"

"Michelle died, mother died. Yes I killed them...I killed them all." The psychiatrist quoted.

"I did not kill my mother. I didn't kill anyone."

"So when did you realize that Felicia wasn't a ghost or an hallucination?"

"She fell down. When she got up her arm was bleeding. So I knew she couldn't be dead."

"How did that make you feel?"

"I was angry. I was angry at her for pretending to be dead, but I was relieved that she was alive. I thought I'd lost her." Ryan shook his head. "I shouldn't have grabbed her, but I was so angry. She kicked me and I ran after her. I didn't want to hurt her, but I couldn't let her just get away with it." Ryan hesitated. It was going to be hard to make strangling Felicia sound like an accident. "I lost it. I didn't know what I was doing, but I don't think I could have killed her. I love her."

When the evaluation was finally done, Ryan was emotionally exhausted. Just remembering the events was unpleasant enough without having to try to put the right spin on them, for the psychiatrist's benefit. It had mostly been the truth. Only he wasn't quite certain about some things. What had happened at the Hardy House?

JULY 21ST 1993

RYAN TRIES TO RECALL THE HARDY HOUSE INCIDENT

He knew from what Steve, Jessica and Sean had said that he had attacked Steve and Audrey, but that wasn't the way he remembered it. He didn't doubt that they were telling him the truth, but it frightened him to think that the reality he recalled was very different.

What he remembered couldn't be true. His mother was dead. She had been for years. But he had talked to her; he had touched her. She had been there. It couldn't have been real; but it had seemed; still seemed, as solid as the bars of this cell.

Life in prison didn't seem very frightening compared to losing his mind. They'd been trying to drive him crazy. His lawyer might think that was a good defense, but it terrified Ryan to think that he might really be insane, not just temporarily.

Ryan tried again to recall the events at the Hardy House, the way they must have been, not the way he'd thought they'd been.

He remembered his mother saying, "I'm sorry if I ever did anything to hurt you." He tried to make his image of her resolve into Audrey. He gritted his teeth as he failed again to believe in the new version.

"You never did anything but hurt me," he whispered. "You deserved it, Ry-baby," he heard her voice clearly. His head snapped up as he searched for the source. There was no one there. But he had heard it; here and now. It was real. She couldn't be dead. "No, no, no, no," he muttered to himself.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he heard her again. He looked up and this time she was there, inside the cell with him. "You're so stupid, Ryan," she told him. "You just don't get it, do you? You can't kill me. You could never do anything right."

"Mother?" Ryan scrambled away from her, to the farthest corner.

"You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you, Ryan?" Her smile was evil.

Ryan closed his eyes tightly. "I'm sorry, Mama."

A.J. HAS ANOTHER VISION

Lila greeted them as Reginald shut the door. "Alan, Monica dear." She rolled forward. "A.J., how are you feeling?"

He kissed her on the cheek. "I'm fine, Grandmother."

"Well I hope you won't be climbing into the boxing ring anytime soon, A.J." She gently reprimanded him.

"No I won't," he promised her.

"Why don't we all go in the living room and have a talk," Lila suggested. "I believe Reginald has already set out some tea for us."

"That's a good idea," said Alan.

A.J. shook his head. "No, I'm kind of tired. I think I'll go right up to my room."

The adults trailed into the living room. Jason hefted the suitcases. "I'll take these up, A.J." He went up the stairs with a backwards glance at his brother.

A.J. was uncomfortable with Jason's too careful attitude, and the rest of the family's, for that matter. He wasn't going to break apart.

He took a step towards the stairs. To A.J.'s surprise a woman appeared on the steps above him. She wore a gown, old-fashioned by a few hundred years, A.J.'s dim sense of history told him. The costume threw him off, so it took him a moment to recognize that the woman was Julia Barrett. She looked frightened and was staring past him at the door.

Now he could hear someone knocking and further realized that these were not the familiar surroundings of his home. The winding staircase was more narrow and the floor beneath him a polished wood. He moved one step up and felt pain shoot through his arm. Only now did he notice that it was confined to a sling. He looked up at the woman. "Julia?" he queried.

She frowned. "Hush. It's the British. You must hide."

"What?" he asked, completely confused.

"Go, beneath the stairs," she ordered him. "Quickly."

He took a few steps in the direction she indicated. She hurried to the door as the knocking grew louder.

The wooden bannister beneath his hand blurred and shifted. A voice came from above him, "A.J. someone's knocking at the door, aren't you going to answer it."

The knocking continued and Jason bounded past him, racing for the door. "A.J.," he said before he opened it. "You were out of it, man. Maybe you should go up and lie down."

A.J. nodded. "Yeah, maybe I should."

THURSDAY JULY 22ND

This time, when Ryan was brought into the interrogation room, it wasn't empty. Assistant D.A. Jessica Holmes was seated at the table. She looked up as he came in the room. "Well, Ryan, it looks like your attorney is late." Jessica seemed nervous and looked fatigued, but Ryan guessed that it wasn't because of him. With the guard still in the room and himself handcuffed, she probably wouldn't consider him a threat. In fact she seemed to barely notice he was there.

When Jerry came into the room it was with his usual colorful burst of activity. The lawyer tossed his briefcase on the table and his jacket over a chair. He glanced at Jessica and then at Ryan. "Neither of you look like happy campers. I hope you're not going to let that effect the negotiations." He flipped the briefcase opened.

Jessica looked disgusted. "Cut the crap, Price. Let's get down to business. We both know your client is guilty. The only question is if he's going to be cooperative."

"You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here," Ryan said through clenched teeth.

"Don't take it personally, Doc. She never talks to alleged perpetrators if there's a lawyer to push around." Jerry seemed to consider baiting Jessica a not unpleasant game.

"Alleged perpetrator?" said Jessica. "That's a good one. We have a confession. We have eyewitnesses. We..."

Jerry interrupted the list. "You have no physical evidence of a murder, and that so called confession is inadmissible, and you know it." Jerry continued but Ryan was no longer paying attention.

To Ryan's horror, his mother had appeared in the room, standing behind Jessica's chair. He looked away, hoping she'd disappear again.

"I'm not leaving, Ry-Baby." she taunted him.

"Stop it," he whispered.

His murmured command had attracted Jessica's attention. "Is there a problem? The offer seems very fair to me."

Jerry watched Ryan, but answered Jessica. "Fair? I don't think so. We have the Hardy's statement that Dr. Chamberlain was not in his right mind at the time of the attack, and his corroborating testimony. There's no reason we should be looking at any jail time here."

"Fine," said Jessica. "A mental institution will do just as well. We couldn't dispute his incompetency if we tried."

"But I could," said Jerry. "My client was temporarily insane at the time of the assaults. He's perfectly competent to stand trial now."

Ryan's mother laughed. "Perfectly competent? You were never perfect at anything."

Jerry continued, "But it isn't going to come to trial, is it? You drop the murder charges; we plead guilty to two counts of assault; first offense. How about two to five?"

"Two to five hundred, maybe. This man is dangerous, and might possibly have killed seven women and you want to let him out on the streets in two years."

"Nine months with good behavior." said Jerry.

Jessica looked outraged. "This might seem like a joke to you, Counselor, but I know what he's capable of and I am not letting him walk."

"Aren't you a little bit too emotionally involved with this case. Perhaps your participation in the police commissioner's illegal activities leading to Dr. Chamberlain's arrest have made you less than objective." said Jerry.

In the face of this accusation Jessica, snapped shut her briefcase. "Well it looks as if you're not interested in making a deal, Mr. Price. The trial will start tomorrow as scheduled." Jessica stormed out of the room.

Jerry looked over at Ryan, whose attention was still firmly fixed on the space behind the now empty chair. "Sorry, Doc, but she won't be on the case long. I'm planning on calling her as a material witness."

This happy announcement had no effect on Ryan. Jerry seemed concerned. "Hey, Doc. Are you with me?"

"What?" Ryan snapped.

"You have a problem, Doc? We're better off going to trial. They haven't got enough evidence to convict on most of those charges."

"Doesn't matter," said Ryan.

Ryan saw his mother approach him. "No, it doesn't matter where they send you, I'll be there."

"Are we done?" Ryan asked Jerry.

"Sure, and don't worry. Remember, we've got an ace up our sleeves. We'll have Michelle here in a few days. That'll blow their case right out of the water." said Jerry.

"Then I'd like to leave now," said Ryan.

"You can't run, Ry-baby," said his mother before she disappeared.

FRIDAY JULY 23RD

Alan and Monica are very worried after A.J. has yet another vision. Karen is relieved when Ray is accused by the mother of another child he has molested, and charges are filed. Ned and Brenda try to behave normally at Julia's. After Sly is hurt, Jenny insists that he come and live with her. Ryan escapes on the way to the hearing. Scotty finds Katherine dead at his place.

Ryan sat in the back seat of the patrol car, his hands handcuffed in front of him. Sean sat beside him and two cops were in the front seat. Ryan shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. The stitches from his latest operation still bothered him.

"Can't you sit still?" Sean asked.

Ryan stopped moving. "Just let me know, and I'll stop breathing for you."

"Be quiet, Chamberlain," was Sean's weary response. "Save it for the courtroom." Sean looked at his watch. "Getting late," he commented. "Can you step on it?" he asked the officer driving. The car went faster.

They had reached the top of a hill. Below they saw smoke rising. At the bottom was an accident scene in the intersection. A gasoline truck had flipped on to its side. A plume of gasoline sprayed from the side of the truck. The driver immediately hit the brakes, but the police car failed to stop, sliding in the pool of gas, seeping across the intersection.

The crash was unavoidable. The officer tried to swerve and the driver's side of the car slammed into the overturned truck. The impact sent Ryan sprawling against Sean. The cop driving was now unconscious, a gash across his forehead where it had struck the steering wheel. The second officer was trying to open the passenger side door.

Ryan reached for his door, too, before he remembered that there were no handles on the inside of the back seat of a police car. Ryan shouted at Sean, "We can't get out!" The officer in the front seat had succeeded in getting his door open. Coughing from the smoke, he reached over and opened Ryan's door. Ryan scrambled out and Sean followed closely behind him.

Flames had begun to shoot from the gas truck. "It's going to blow," Sean shouted. He pointed at Ryan, "Get him out of the way," he said to the cop. Sean dove into the front seat to try to free the unconscious driver. The second cop pushed Ryan towards the sidewalk.

Sean pulled the driver out of the car, but stumbled over some wreckage. The second cop turned back intending to help. He took a few steps and then the truck exploded. Sean was thrown forward by the blast. He recovered and dragged the officer away from the spreading flames. Ryan stood on the sidewalk. He lowered his arms that he had flung up to shield himself from the flying debris. The cop who had been guarding Ryan was out cold on the gas covered asphalt. The expanding fire had almost reached him. Ryan ran to the unconscious man. Awkwardly, because he was still handcuffed, Ryan pulled the man to the sidewalk. His medical instincts taking over he checked the policeman's pulse, and then his other vital signs. There were minor burns and a concussion, but otherwise the man appeared to be all right.

Ryan looked up, searching for Sean and the other officer. Another explosion rocked the street as the police car blew up. Ryan ducked again, and tried to shield the man on the ground. When he looked up again he saw Sean on the other side of the street. A wall of flames separated them.

Ryan heard the sound of sirens as fire trucks approached. He realized his situation as his eyes met those of the police commissioner. Sean was trapped on the other side of the street; this was his chance. He quickly removed the keys from the officer's pocket, and unlocked his handcuffs.

Sean shouted at him from across the street. "Don't try it." Ryan ignored him, and ran.

Sean pulled out his gun. "Stop or I'll shoot." Ryan didn't stop. Sean shot through the flames. Ryan spun around as the bullet went into his arm. He stumbled, but didn't fall, and then kept on running.

MONDAY JULY 26TH

RYAN EVADES HIS PURSUERS

Sirens blared in the distance. Ryan swore again. He ripped the sleeve off his jacket and tied it clumsily around his arm. He took a few more steps down the alley and a wave of dizziness overcame him. He fell against a wooden crate. Ryan struggled to stay conscious, knowing that if he passed out the police would find him. He brushed the hair out of his eyes and took a deep breath.

Weaving down the alley, Ryan wondered what Sean's next move would be. There would be a dragnet around the area; up to the pier probably. He had to find a place to hide out until the search died down.

He heard the creak of a door opening. He pressed himself against the wall into the shadows, hoping to avoid being seen. A young woman came out the door carrying a plastic bag. "Y'know," the girl said to someone inside. "I shouldn't have to take the garbage out." She sounded petulant but not really too put out

A vaguely familiar voice came from inside. "No, but thank you, Brenda dear. I hope you don't break a nail."

"Very funny, Ruby." Brenda tossed the bag into the dumpster. As she turned back, Ryan lost his balance and the movement caught her attention. Their eyes met. He froze and waited for her reaction. Brenda recovered from her surprise and took a step toward Ryan. She peered at him curiously. "Hey, are you okay?"

He pushed himself away from the wall, and stumbled as he tried to circle around her. Still not recognizing Ryan, she went towards him, obviously thinking that he needed her help. She saw the blood soaked cloth twisted around his left arm. She reached out to him. "Hey, you are hurt."

Ryan pulled away from her. Brenda's eyes widened as she finally realized who he was. She gaped. "Ryan Chamberlain?!" She looked more thrilled, than frightened. He pushed past her and ran down the alley. He heard Brenda shout for Ruby, as he turned the corner. Ryan wondered how his situation could get worse. There was a rumble of thunder above and rain began to fall.

ALEX CHAMBERLAIN ARRIVES IN PORT CHARLES

Alex Chamberlain put back the magazine he had been reading. The young man beside him asked "First trip to Port Charles?"

"Yeah, it is. Been there? What's it like?" Alex responded.

"Pretty quiet," said the young man with a hint of regret. "Really quiet after New York. Is that where you're from?"

"Among other places. I live in the Village now."

"Cool. I was just there a few days ago. My band was playing a gig."

"You mean at the... Yeah, I saw you guys. You're pretty good," said Alex enthusiastically.

"Not good enough, I guess, since we didn't get the recording contract."

"Too bad," Alex sympathized. "Will you be playing in Port Charles?"

"I hope so. So are you like on vacation or what?" the young man asked, trying to change the subject.

"Family business, sort of," Alex replied as he took off his glasses and cleaned them with a tissue.

The plane landed. "It's been nice talking to you. I'm sorry, I didn't get your name," Alex said to the young man as they began to disembark.

"Val. Val Duncan." He shook Alex's hand.

"I'm Alex Chamberlain. Maybe I'll see you around."

TUESDAY JULY 27TH

RYAN TAKES REFUGE IN THE CATACOMBS

The direction of the pier wasn't promising. He'd been seen near Kelly's and they'd be concentrating on that area. Above the empty lot he was standing near, there was an old deserted house that looked like his best option. It was fenced off, a condemned sign hanging in front. After a brief search he found a section of the fence that had been ripped aside. It wasn't really large enough, but he squeezed through. He winced as his bad arm caught on the wire mesh. He pulled free.

Ryan went up to the house. Some broken boards covered the front door. He pushed one aside. A shattered padlock hung on the handle. It was obvious that someone had already broken in. Ryan proceeded more carefully, worrying that someone might be there, as he entered. The place was deserted. The light coming in thin lines through the boarded up windows made black and grey patterns on the dusty floor. There was a pile of blankets and pillows in one corner. The floor was strewn with cigarette butts and beer cans. It looked like a crash site for runaways.

Ryan picked up one of the blankets, and wrapped it around his shoulders. There was a radio sitting on a milk crate in the middle of the room. He switched it on. There was a blast of sound and he quickly turned it down. He turned the tuning knob until he found a news station.

"And the rain is expected to continue for several days as a new weather front moves in from the Midwest. In local news; we've just received confirmation that Dr. Ryan Chamberlain, alleged serial killer, has escaped from custody." Ryan turned it up. "Police Commissioner Sean Donely, is leading an intensive search for the fugitive. He cannot currently be reached for comment. Residents are warned to exercise caution; Chamberlain is considered dangerous. Report sightings to Port Charles Police department. He was last seen in the waterfront area. On the national scene..."

Ryan switched the radio off. He rubbed at his hair with a corner of the blanket. Had they searched this place already, he wondered. Well, no place was safe; he'd have to risk this one. Ryan shrugged the blanket off his left shoulder and began to unwrap the makeshift bandage. It was painful, but the bleeding had stopped. What worried him was getting the bullet out and the possibility of infection. He looked around for something cleaner to rebandage the arm. He had to settle for the least filthy of the pillowcases. After putting on the new bandage, Ryan let himself sink into the nest of blankets. He only meant to close his eyes for a minute; just to rest for a few minutes.

When he awoke it was dark. He thought he had heard something. A car? He listened. Despite the noise of the rain, he could hear the sound of gravel scrunching underfoot in front of the house. Quickly Ryan gathered up the wet blanket and his discarded bandage. Now he wished he had explored the house. Was there a back way out of this place? He hastened down the hallway and through the kitchen.

Ryan flung open what he thought was the back door, but it led to steps going down to the basement. He heard the front door swing open. Swiftly he slipped in and locked the door behind him. He walked down a few steps, but hesitated to go any further in the darkness. He listened to the footsteps approaching.

"Hey, Bob, bring a flashlight. I wanna check out the basement." There was a rattle as the man tried the locked door. Alarmed, Ryan backed down the stairs into the darkness. Upstairs the two patrolmen broke open the door. Bob shone the flashlight down the stairs. The beam illuminated each corner of the room in turn. Cobwebs and dust were the only things they could see; otherwise the basement was empty.The other cop shook his head. "There's nothing here, Bob. Let's go. We've got a lot more ground to cover."

ALEX CHECKS INTO THE HOTEL AND HAS LUNCH AT KELLY'S

Alex Chamberlain sat his bag down beside the front desk and picked up the pen to fill out the registration card. The young lady behind the desk was checking in another guest. He waited, doodling on the desk notepad.

"Thank you, sir," she said to the preceding guest.

"May, I help you?" she asked Alex. He handed her his card. She began putting the information into the computer.

"Do you know any good places to eat around here?" he asked her.

She didn't look up from the screen. "The restaurant is to your left, sir."

"No, I meant, eat," he clarified. "You know, burgers, fries, chili; real food."

She looked up at him. "What?"

He gave her a friendly smile. "The hotel's expensive enough; I can't afford to eat here."

She returned his smile, tentatively. "Well, I eat at Kelly's, usually. It's right down by the pier."

"Kelly's? I'll try that, thanks." said Alex.

"You're welcome, sir." She looked back at the computer. "May I have your credit card, sir?"

"I'll be paying cash." he told her. She hesitated. "You do take cash, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. And how long will you be staying?" She handed him a key.

"I'm not sure yet." He picked up his bag, and checked the room number on the key. "Thanks a lot."

"Enjoy your stay, sir."

He turned and walked to the elevators. Behind him Julia Barrett emerged from the office adjacent to the front desk. She held a ledger in her hands. "Carla," she had to repeat herself before she captured the girl's attention. "Carla. What's this entry here? That can't be right."

Alex got into the elevator and as the doors closed, Ned Ashton came out of the second elevator. Ned approached the registration desk.

The little string of bells on the diner door chimed as Alex entered Kelly's. He took off his raincoat. shaking off some of the drops. The place was empty except for the young man behind the counter, polishing glasses. Alex sat down. Jagger came out from behind the counter with a notepad. "What can I get for you?" he said in barely discernible English.

As Alex ordered, he noticed Jagger looked puzzled. "Something wrong?" Alex asked him.

Jagger frowned. "Do I know you? You look kind of familiar."

"I don't think so. I just got into town. If the food's any good, I'll be here a lot."

"The food's great," Jagger gave his review, and then left to fill the order.

When Alex was done he went to the register and paid Jagger for the meal. "That was pretty good. I think, I'll be back."

"Thanks," said Jagger, since Alex had left a generous tip. "See you."

Alex headed for the door, picking up his raincoat from the back of the chair. As he did so Brenda came bounding down the stairs, chattering as usual. "Jagger, you know, your brother...." She stopped, shocked, when she saw Alex opening the door to go out. Brenda moved the rest of the way to the counter. "Oh, my God, Jagger. Call the police!"

Jagger looked confused. "Why?"

"That was Ryan Chamberlain!"

WEDNESDAY JULY 28TH

RYAN FINDS A SECRET ROOM IN THE CATACOMBS

Ryan ducked through the opening. He lit another match and picked up the lantern he had found hanging just inside. He touched the flame to the wick. The soft glow illuminated the room. It was a small area; the walls made of stone and mortar. The flagstone floor had piles of junk, old ropes and tools, scattered over it. Ryan set the lantern down and reached back to pull the radio inside. Carefully, he reset the panel.

For once things seemed to be going his way. They would have found him, if he hadn't accidentally stumbled on this hidden room. He wasn't sure, exactly, what he would do now. But he did know that, for the moment, he was safe from discovery. Still he worried, if they did find he was in here, there was no way out. An idea occurred. If there was a hidden way into this room, perhaps there was a hidden way out. He examined the walls.

Ryan found a metal ring set in the far wall. He tried twisting it and then pulling it. The wall shifted under his hand. When he pushed harder it swiveled on it's axis. There was a tunnel beyond. Ryan held up his lantern and went in to explore.

The system was complicated and Ryan reached dead ends a number of times. He found what he thought was another one, but noticed a ring similar to the one in the first room. He tugged on it and the door pivoted open. This led to yet another tunnel. There was a door only a few feet away. At first he thought this door was locked. But it was only age that had rusted the hinges and made the door stick. With an effort he pulled the door open. he didn't know what he had expected, but he was surprised to find a wine cellar. Racks of wine covered the walls, layers of dust whitening the bottles. he picked up a bottle and blew the dust off of it. "Maybe it's time I took up drinking," he mused.

ALEX MEETS THE PCPD

"I'll be right with you." The man glanced up at him, and then a look of recognition dawned.

Alex was puzzled. "I'm here to...." It felt like gravity had failed, as someone grabbed him from behind, lifting him off his feet. He tried to twist free, but it was all he could do to keep the man he was struggling with from strangling him.

He heard a man shouting. "Mac, don't!"

Two cops dragged Mac off of him. Alex got to his feet shakily. To his further consternation, another policeman twisted Alex's arm behind his back and slapped the handcuffs on his left wrist. "Wait...wait a minute," he objected. His right arm was pulled back. "This is a mistake." He glowered at the angry Mac.

Sean still held Mac back. "Let me go, Sean. He can't just walk in here."

Sean gave Mac a shake. "He's giving himself up. Calm down, Mac."

Alex gaped. "Giving myself up?!"

Ryan's lawyer, Jerry Price, whispered something to Sean. Sean looked at Alex. Alex flinched, as the police commissioner came closer."Let's see his left arm."

The two cops holding him pulled aside Alex's already disheveled shirt. Sean frowned. "Let him go," he said putting a hand to his head, as if a headache was coming on.

"What?!" Mac gasped.

"It's not Chamberlain," Sean stated.

Mac looked confused. "What are you talkin' about?"

"It's not him." Sean gave Alex an assessing look. "I shot Ryan during the escape. This man isn't injured."

"Well, maybe you missed," Mac argued.

Sean glared at him. "I know I hit him." He turned to Alex. "Who are you?"

Alex waited until the handcuffs were off, before he replied. "I'm Alex Chamberlain." He stressed the first name. He rubbed his wrists to regain circulation. "I came here to see if it was my brother who went on trial yesterday. What's going on here?"

"Ryan's your brother?" Sean asked.

"Well, I guess you noticed the family resemblance," Alex said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Mac was suspicious. "Sean checked his background. Chamberlain doesn't have a brother."

"Then he didn't check close enough, did he?" Alex said still indignant.

"Well, there's a lot of things he hasn't checked close enough," Jerry put in. He handed Alex the glasses he had dropped in the struggle. "I'm your brother's attorney, Jerald Price." He shook Alex's hand.

Alex was still bewildered. "Could someone please explain to me what is going on here?"

"I'm afraid your brother escaped yesterday, Mr. Chamberlain." Jerry told him.

"Well, Alex, I think we better have a little talk," Sean said, not at all friendly.

Alex glared at Mac. "No apologies?"

"Welcome to Port Charles," said Jerry.

WEDNESDAY JULY 29TH

ROBIN DISCOVERS RYAN

"George," Val Duncan called out. "Are you here?"

Behind him Robin was examining the dilapidated surroundings. "Your friend lives here?" Robin eased past Val and walked into the living room.

Val shrugged. "He hangs out here, when he can't go home. Guess he's not here, now."

Robin picked up one of the pillows, its case missing. "This doesn't seem like a great place to live. Doesn't he have any other family?"

Val kicked one of the beer cans out of his path. "I don't know. Maybe that's where he is now."

Robin dropped the pillow and noticed some stains on the blankets. She knelt down, letting her purse slide off her shoulder. "These are bloodstains, Val. I hope your friend isn't hurt."

"Yeah, I hope not. There's a couple other places he hangs out. I'll check those," said Val. "But first maybe I should take you home."

Robin stood up. "Don't bother. It's not far. You should find your friend."

"No. It's not safe, with that Ryan Chamberlain guy on the loose. I'll walk you home." Val insisted.

"Oh, all right," Robin agreed as they went out the front door.

When Ryan heard the front door closing, he emerged from the basement. He wondered if there wasn't another exit he could use to get in and out of the catacombs. This particular one seemed to have more visitors than he was comfortable with.

He put the problem aside for the moment and began rummaging through the kitchen in hopes that one of the temporary residents had left some food. In the back of a cabinet he found a half empty box of stale soda crackers. "Now all I need is some Brie," he said. "I'll be set." His dinner plans now firm, Ryan went into the front room. He needed another blanket. The farther he went down into the catacombs, the colder it was. He had folded up the driest blanket and tucked it under his arm, when he noticed a small purse sitting nearby. He picked it up. He shuddered and felt suddenly vulnerable, as if the walls of the house had disappeared. Someone would come back for the purse. Almost the same instant the thought occurred to him, he heard the front door open and a light footstep in the hall.

He recognized Robin Scorpio immediately when she walked in the room. He kept still and she didn't see him at first. Her eyes were probably adjusting to the darkness inside. Robin walked over to the spot where she must have remembered putting the purse. She was almost close enough to touch him, when she finally noticed he was there.

"Ryan!" Robin said stunned and then she turned to run out.

Ryan lunged forward and grabbed her wrist. Robin began to scream. He threw her on to the pile of blankets and put his hand over her mouth. "Be quiet," he said desperately. "Be quiet."

ALEX TELLS HIS STORY TO SEAN AND JERRY

"But I want to hear what he has to say," Mac protested.

"If there's anything you need to know about, I'll tell you later," Sean said.

"Don't get all official on me, Sean."

"I really think Felicia needs you now," Sean persisted.

Mac gave in. "Well, all right, but you call me if anything happens."

On the other side of the room, Alex whispered to Jerry, "Who is that?"

"Mac Scorpio, a friend of the commissioner and one of the people your brother is accused of assaulting," Jerry told him.

Sean looked over at Jerry as Mac left the room. "I don't think we'll need your services, counselor. No one's under arrest here."

"I just thought I should be here to give Dr. Chamberlain's side of the story," Jerry said cheerfully as he sat down.

"I think he should stay," Alex told Sean. "I might need a witness," he said, only half-joking.

"All right, all right," said Sean. "Have it your way. But keep quiet, " he told Jerry. Jerry looked intent on ignoring the remark.

"According to my sources, Ryan was an only child," Sean informed Alex. "So how did we miss you?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but my brother and I were separated at a very early age," Alex said.

"So how did you know he was here?" asked Sean.

Alex took out his wallet and removed a small newspaper clipping. "I saw this announcement of a trial in the Times. I wasn't certain it was my brother until you guys made that positive, and painful, I.D.."

"So you haven't seen your brother in how long?" Sean asked.

"About 30 years." Alex was a little irritated by the accusatory tone of the questions.

Jerry was curious. "Does Ryan know he has a brother?"

"I don't know," Alex said. "I don't think so. I've been trying to find him for years, but he's moved around a lot and so have I. Just when I think I've tracked him down, he drops out of sight."

"Well, Ryan had some pretty good reasons to keep on the move," Sean insinuated.

"Alleged reasons," Jerry put in quickly.

"Look, I know he was arrested for a murder and assault, but what are you guys talking about?" asked Alex.

"You're brother is suspected of killing more than seven women," Sean told him.

"Now, see," Jerry said. "That's just what I was talking about. You don't have any evidence that he killed anyone. In fact, your whole case falls apart now that I've found Michelle...alive."

"He confessed!" Sean said a little more loudly than he had intended to.

"Confessed? Brain-washed, you mean!" Jerry shouted back. "Those methods may be acceptable in the WSB, Commissioner, but they're not quite kosher enough for the American justice system."

"We've got a witness..." Sean began.

"Hey, you guys!" Alex interrupted the argument. "Time out! Would one of you tell me what happened to Ryan? I mean, how did he escape? Was he hurt? You said something about shooting him," he said to Sean.

"He was shot while trying to escape after a car accident," Sean told him briefly.

"How long ago was that," asked Alex.

"24 hours ago," Sean said. "We have a full scale search going on now. We'll bring him in soon." Jerry looked doubtful. "Where are you staying?" Sean asked Alex?

"The Port Charles Hotel," he answered.

"Why don't you just go back their and stay put," Sean told him.

"This man hasn't committed any crime, Commissioner," said Jerry. "You can't restrict his movements."

"No, but for his own safety I'd recommend it." Sean sighed. "I'll tell you what, counselor, you keep an eye on him," Sean suggested.

"Okay," Jerry agreed.

"Well, Gee," Alex said sardonically, "I'm glad you guys have straightened this all out for me."

"Don't take it that way," Jerry placated him. "I just want to make sure you're not arrested every time you meet one of Port Charles' Finest."

As they walked out of the interrogation room, Jerry fell into step beside Alex. "So are you a doctor, too?" he asked him.

"Uh, no," said Alex. "I'm a cartoonist, an animator."

"A cartoonist? Really?" Jerry seemed amused.

When Sean was out of earshot, Alex stopped Jerry. "I want the truth," he said. "Is my brother guilty?"

Jerry carefully considered his answer. "I don't think he killed anybody, but we had to plead insanity to the assault charges."

"He's insane?"

"Well, let's just say, his turbolift doesn't go all the way to the bridge," Jerry said. "The psychological evaluation suggests he's suffering from paranoid-schizophrenia. Not that he doesn't have a reason to be paranoid."

"What do you mean?" asked Alex.

"I'll explain later," Jerry told him.

"I haven't heard an explanation I liked yet," said Alex glumly as they stepped out into the rain.

FRIDAY JULY 30TH

ALEX AND JERRY EAT LUNCH AT KELLY'S

Alex looked around the diner. "Why not? I had dinner here the night before last. It's not bad."

"Not exactly what I meant," Jerry explained. "A lot of your brother's former co-workers and acquaintances come in here. They might be...unfriendly."

Alex resented the restriction. "That's their problem." He reflected. "Do Ryan and I really look that much alike?"

"Mirror image," said Jerry, as he pulled out a chair to sit down. Alex joined him. "You don't act much alike though," Jerry said. "That's mostly circumstances, I suppose."

"Tell me about his circumstances. You said something about Ryan's paranoia being justified." Alex was more than just curious; he wanted to believe that Ryan wasn't really responsible for the awful crimes that had been attributed to him.

"In order to get your brother to confess to crimes they imagined he'd committed, the Police Commissioner came up with this plan to 'gaslight' Dr. Chamberlain. They harassed him for months, broke him."

"'Gaslight'," Alex considered the word. "That implies that they were trying to drive him crazy."

"And they did. After his so-called confession he attacked Dr. and Mrs. Hardy." Jerry shook his regretfully.

"And kidnapped a little girl?" Alex asked.

Jerry shrugged. "The Port Charles Police Department seems to have trouble hanging on to the good Doctor. After the assault he went down to Texas. It's pretty obvious to me, and I don't think anyone else has missed it, that Dr. Chamberlain's obsessed with Felicia Jones. He took her daughter so she'd come to him."

Alex was depressed. "But you don't think he killed anyone?"

Jerry turned his coffee cup right side up. "I know he didn't murder Michelle Bales. She's alive and well. And I don't believe that your brother's a serial killer; he doesn't fit the profile."

Jerry stopped talking. Something at the counter had attracted his attention. He held out his hand. "Give me your driver's license."

"Why?" Alex asked doubtfully.

"Just give it to me," Jerry insisted.

Alex pulled the license out of his wallet and handed it over. Jerry got up from the table and walked away. Alex turned to watch him go up to the lunch counter.

Jerry was saying something to Ruby who had picked up the phone receiver. The conversation seemed intense and Alex realized that he must have been mistaken for Ryan. His attention was distracted when a dark-haired young woman came down the stairs. Their eyes met. She gaped at Alex.

Oh no, not again, Alex thought to himself. He rose hastily, rattling the cups on the table. The movement seemed to agitate her further. "Ruby," she squealed.

Jerry and Ruby immediately grasped the situation. They went over to Brenda. "It's all right, Brenda, honey," Ruby told her. "It's not Ryan."

Brenda studied Alex. "It sure looks like him."

"Well, I'm not him." Alex said. She still looked doubtful. "I'm his brother; his twin brother." Brenda finally got it, "Oh, I see." Another idea struck her. "That must have been you in here the other night."

"Yeah, that's right. That was me." He smiled at her. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

Brenda smiled back at him. "That's okay."

"Well, I have customers to wait on," Ruby said. She was rudely abrupt.

"While you're at it, we could use some coffee, and menus would be nice, too," Jerry called after her.

Alex and Jerry sat back down at their table. "Maybe, you were right. This might not be the best place to eat." said Alex.

"To tell you the truth, it's not going to be very different anywhere else in town. We're here now; might as well eat," said Jerry.

Alex noticed that Brenda had followed them to the table. She pulled up a chair. "So," she jumped right into conversation. "Are you really Ryan Chamberlain's brother?"

"Would you care to join us?" Jerry asked.

She ignored him, waiting for Alex's answer. He was astounded by her straightforward manner. "Yes."

Ruby came over and filled the coffee cups. "You look exactly like him," Brenda said, still amazed.

Alex hid a grin. "Do you think so?"

"Oh yeah, it's incredible. It must have been awful to find out your brother was a killer," Brenda sympathized. Alex nearly choked on his first swallow of coffee. "Yes, it was quite a shock," he agreed.

"I can imagine," she said, her eyes wide. "So, did Ryan call and ask you to come?"

Alex was amazed himself, that the girl seemed willing to ask so many questions that were none of her business.

"No. No, we haven't had any contact since we were kids."

"Really?" said Brenda. "You were separated? Like 'Unsolved Mysteries', or something?"

"Something like that. Our parents divorced when we were four years old and I haven't seen him since then." Alex said, hoping this much information would satisfy her.

"And you've been searching for him for all these years, right?" she said.

"Yeah, right."

Ruby came up with the menus. "Brenda, don't you have a photo shoot your supposed to be at?'

Brenda looked at her watch. "Oh my gosh, you're right. I've gotta go. It was really nice talking to you."

"You too," said Alex. He waited until she left before saying to Jerry, "She seemed nice."

Jerry chose not to comment on Brenda. "I have to fly to New York tonight. Why don't you come with me?"

"What for?" Alex asked.

"I have to bring Michelle Bales back," said Jerry.

"But what do you need me for?"

"I just think it would be safer if you were out of town, until they find your brother. It's that or stay cooped up in your hotel room until I get back."

"Okay," he agreed. "Port Charles hasn't exactly rolled out the red carpet for me."

"You're lucky. They haven't gotten out the tar and feathers yet," Jerry said cynically. He tried to get Ruby's attention so they could order.

RYAN HOLDS ROBIN CAPTIVE

Eventually they had arrived at this room where he had untied her and removed her blindfold. Robin had asked him, "What are you going to do?" Ryan had scrutinized her with a chilling, dispassionate stare. But he hadn't responded. He took down the ring of keys hanging by the door; without a word he had stepped out and locked her inside.

Since then she had tried, unsuccessfully, to open the door and shouted until she realized no one could possibly hear her. Hours had passed and she wondered if Ryan would ever come back. Did he intend to leave her here forever? And then she worried what he would do if he did come back. By the time she heard his footstep outside Robin was in a state of panic. Despite her fear an idea occurred to her. She seized a bottle of wine from one of the racks and positioned herself by the door.

When Ryan entered she swung the bottle at him as hard as she could. He cried out in pain. The blow had landed on his injured arm. He fell to his knees and she tried to run past him. Frantically he twisted around to catch her. He grabbed her ankle and they both fell to the floor. The bottle flew out of her hands and shattered against the tunnel wall. She tried to reach one of the glass shards to use as a weapon against him, but he drew her back into the room.

Ryan held her down and kicked the door shut. "Don't do that!" he yelled at her, as he climbed to his feet. "Don't make me hurt you."

Robin was too frightened to move. Ryan was gasping for breath and clutching his wounded arm, which had begun to bleed again. He kept a vigilant eye on her as he locked the door and reached for the piece of rope. Cautiously he pulled her to her feet and tied her hands behind her back. "You shouldn't have done that. I don't want to hurt you."

"Then why don't you let me go?" she pleaded.

"I can't!" he yelled, and then, more calmly, "I can't let you go. You'll tell them where I am."

"No, I won't tell anyone," said Robin.

He shook his head. "Don't lie to me. Of course you would. I'll let you go when it's safe for me to leave."

"People are going to come looking for me," she told him.

"Mac and Sean," he said derisively. "They won't find us down here. No one will."

Robin was despondent. He was probably right. Why would anyone think to look for her here?

MONDAY AUGUST 2ND

ALEX AND JERRY RETURN WITH MICHELLE

Ned gave a sideways glance to see where Julia was. She had just walked into the adjoining office. He slipped the papers back and slithered from behind the desk to intercept the young woman. "Welcome to the Port Charles Hotel," he said smoothly, "My name is Ned Ashton, if there's anything you need just ask me."

"You're the owner," she said with assurance and smiled at him.

"And you are...?"

"Crystal," she said briefly.

Jerry came up behind Crystal. "C'mon, honey, we've got to get you checked in. I've got to get over to the Police Department by four." The two of them seemed very familiar. Ned was disappointed.

Another woman came up to Jerry and asked, "Have I been here before, Mr. Price?"

Jerry looked at her as if she were an annoying child. "I'm sorry, Michelle. I don't know whether you have or not."

"But I've been to Port Charles?" she insisted innocently.

Jerry ignored her. Alex , a step behind the rest of the party, answered Michelle. "Yes, you've been to Port Charles. Do you remember anything about it?"

"No," she said cheerfully.

Ned gaped at Alex. Alex rolled his eyes and Jerry headed off the inevitable leap to the wrong conclusion. "No, he's not Ryan Chamberlain."

Julia had come from behind the desk to put in her two cents. "Did I forget to tell you, Ned," she said sweetly. "Ryan's brother checked in three nights ago."

"Brother?" Ned said now distracted from Crystal. "No, you didn't mention it, Julia."

Jerry herded the group over to the desk. Carla had disappeared for her break. Normally, Ned wouldn't check in a guest himself, but he made an exception for Crystal. "Name?" he asked her, prepared to enter the information in the computer.

"Crystal," she told him.

"Crystal, what?" asked Ned, smiling at her.

"Just Crystal," she said brightly.

Jerry jumped in, "Just put the rooms in my name." Jerry handed Ned a charge card.

Ned looked at it, and then up at Jerry. "And how many rooms will that be?"

"One for each of the ladies," Jerry said impatiently.

"Are you staying here, too," Michelle asked Alex wistfully.

"Yes, I'm right here if you need me," he told her.

Michelle had picked up one of the brochures on the desk and was thumbing through it. "What's a continental breakfast, Alex?"

"Juice, coffee and a roll," he told her quickly. After this odd exchange, Julia looked a little puzzled. Then Michelle's attention was attracted by the painting on a nearby wall. "I remember this picture," she told Alex. She was delighted, beaming at him, because she thought she had remembered something relating to her past life.

He was reluctant to disenchant her. "That's Gainsborough's 'Blue Boy'." She waited expectantly. "It's just a print," he admitted. "It's really very common. Sorry."

Despite his explanation Michelle remained, studying the painting. Julia whispered to Alex, "Is she all right?"

Alex looked over at Michelle. "Oh, she's okay. She just has amnesia."

"Amnesia?" Julia said, astonished.

"Yes, I've heard it's pretty common around here," Alex quipped.

After a second she realized he was joking, and went along with it. "Yeah, it's epidemic." More seriously, she asked, "Does she have something to do with your brother's trial?"

Immediately she regretted bringing up the subject as he answered ruefully, "She's our star witness."

Ned had finished checking in Crystal and Michelle. He handed a room key to Crystal, and the other one to Jerry. The attorney crossed the room to give Michelle the key, leaving the two of them alone at the desk. "Is Mr. Price a relative of yours?" Ned asked her.

"No, we're just friends," she told him.

Ned began searching for something on the desk. "The papers you're looking for are under the second ledger," Crystal told him.

He gazed at her with more interest. Then he grinned. "You saw me put them there when you came in, didn't you?"

"If you say so," she agreed.

He took the papers out from under the ledger, and emerged from behind the desk, again. "If you don't have any other plans for this evening, you should try our fine restaurant. The special tonight is Le Gigot Qui Pleure served with Celeris Braises, a fine French wine...and me."

"That sounds delightful," she said, giving him a dazzling smile. "Seven o'clock; I'll meet you there?"

"That's just what I was thinking," he said.

"Yes, I know," she said.

Crystal joined Michelle, Alex and Jerry at the elevators. Jerry was repeating himself to Michelle. "Remember, you meet me down here in thirty minutes. We've got to be at the police station by four."

Alex answered for her, "She'll be here. Don't worry." The elevator doors opened and Michelle and Crystal, got in. Alex held the door and whispered quickly to Jerry before he got on, "Ease up a little. You don't want to upset her."

Jerry looked surprised. "Wouldn't dream of it. Make sure she's down here in half an hour."

ROBIN ESCAPES FROM THE SECRET ROOM

Robin jumped to her feet and went over to the door. She had noticed when Ryan had taken the keys down that the nail they were hanging on was loose. That had given her the idea that she might be able to use it, if it was long enough, to pick the lock. She yanked the nail out of the wall. She got down on her knees and probed the lock with the nail. After several attempts she heard a click and then the door opened when she tried the latch. Robin was quite pleased with herself, but then recalled that Ryan might be back at any moment.

Ryan had left one of his lanterns in the wine cellar with her. She took this into the catacomb tunnel. She thought she remembered the way that Ryan had led her, though she'd been blindfolded. She was wrong. In a very short time she realized she was hopelessly lost. The lantern was flickering as the last of the oil began to burn away.

Ryan opened the hidden door to the corridor that led to the wine cellar. He saw that the door to it was standing open. He dropped the bag of food he had managed to collect and rushed into the room.

Robin wasn't there. He went over to the stone pillar and examined the rope. They'd been old and rotten and she had managed to break them. He dashed to the door to inspect the lock. No one had broken in. He spotted the nail on the floor and surmised that Robin had used it to pick the lock.

Ryan trembled at the thought of what might happen if Robin had reached the surface. The police would be here; Sean, Mac. He tried to calculate how long Robin could have been gone. Probably no more than an hour ago, at most. Still if she had gone the straight route they would have been waiting for him when he'd got back. But she couldn't have. She didn't know the way out. She wouldn't have been able to find the entrance that led to the house. She must be lost in the tunnels.

Ryan stepped into the corridor. He lowered the lantern and bent down to examine the ground. Her footprints clearly outlined on the dusty floor led off in a direction he had not yet explored. He followed them for some way. He found her discarded lantern. "Robin," he called out. "Robin, you're not going to find your way out of here." His words echoed through the tunnels. "Robin!" he yelled again. "Where are you?" There was no answer.

Robin heard Ryan's calls. She had reached another dead end in the dark. She began to feel her way along the wall. She was looking for an opening that led away from the direction she thought Ryan's voice had come from. She could hear water dripping. The wall under her hands was wet. Water was seeping in through cracks in the wall. She rubbed her hands dry against her jeans and continued to search for an exit. She didn't hear Ryan anymore. Maybe he'd given up.

She made one more turn and saw a gleam of light ahead; a way out, she hoped. She went towards it, running faster as she drew closer. Robin stopped short as she saw that the light was cast by a lantern sitting in the middle of the corridor. Ryan, she thought and began to back away, and bumped into something. Robin turned cold with dread as she felt Ryan's hand grip her shoulder. She tried to bolt forward but he jerked her back. "You shouldn't have done that," he told her.

"Don't hurt me," she gasped.

"I won't!" he yelled in her ear. He loosened his grip slightly. "But you have to promise you won't run again." She didn't reply. He shook her. "Promise me," he shouted.

"Okay," she answered.

Ryan let her go. "You'd only get lost down here. You don't know the way out." He picked up the lantern, and took a few steps down the tunnel. Robin stayed where she was. He stopped and turned to look back at her. "You promised," he reminded her.

She thought about her options. She was reluctant to follow him. Though he'd protested often that he didn't want to hurt her, he seemed dangerously unstable. On the other hand if she ran now, assuming he didn't catch her, again, she might starve to death or die of thirst before she found her way out. "I'm coming," she said, resigned to the alternative.

Ryan led the way back to the wine cellar.

TUESDAY AUGUST 3RD

ALEX MEETS FELICIA

"Well, you have to be careful," Jenny advised.

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Felicia.

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll catch Ryan soon," Jenny tried to reassure her.

Felicia grimaced. "I hope so. It just seems like it'll never be over." She brightened. "But that's not what we're here to talk about. You know that the gym was closed down? Well, now Marco wants to remodel it into a restaurant." The waiter came over with two plates of food. "Oh, great, you ordered for me. Salad, just what I wanted."

Jenny was puzzled. "I didn't know you and Marco were friends."

"We're not, exactly. We're kind of business partners. The restaurant was my idea. Anyway we want to do it on a sports theme. Any ideas?"

"Well, that's not much to go on," said Jenny, "First I'll have to take a look at it. This won't be a very formal type of place, I take it?"

"Yeah, real casual. People can come and watch basketball games, but not a sports bar. Do you know what I mean?" Felicia said.

Jenny shook her head, "No, not exactly. What does Mac think about this idea?"

Felicia frowned. "This doesn't have anything to do with Mac. Besides he wouldn't know a good idea if you hit him over the head with it."

"Oh," said Jenny, knowing when a subject was best dropped. She looked over at the corner booth. Ned had been there since she arrived. He was still there, alone, starting on a second bottle of champagne. When Ned looked up, Jenny looked away.

Her gaze stopped at a table on the opposite side of the room. She blinked once, not believing what her eyes told her. "Oh my God," Jenny whispered.

Felicia twisted around to see what had shocked Jenny. For a second she did think that it was Ryan Chamberlain sitting there. She almost panicked before she realized it couldn't possibly be him. She turned back to Jenny. "That's not Ryan."

Jenny stared at him. "It's not?"

"No. Mac told me that Ryan's twin brother showed up at the police station. He's staying here at the hotel. That has to be him," Felicia reasoned.

"It sure looks like Ryan," said Jenny. "Isn't it creepy, for you, I mean, to be in the same room with him?"

Felicia shrugged. "I don't know, I've never been in the same room with him before."

A waiter passed by their table with a champagne bottle. Jenny watched as he took it over to Ned's table. She couldn't quite hear what the waiter said, but he seemed to be suggesting that Ned had had enough. Ned did not agree. "Fired," was the first word she could make out. Ned reached for the champagne bottle and missed.

Hastily Jenny rose from the table. "Felicia, I really have to go over there and talk to Ned. Will you be okay here?"

Felicia looked over at Ned, who was obviously in need of help. "Sure, go ahead. I'll be fine."

Jenny left Felicia alone. Felicia watched Alex for a moment as he innocently ate his breadsticks. Then she had an idea, and acted on it. She took a large swallow out of her water glass before she got up. She walked directly over to Alex's table. Felicia waited for him to look up.

Eventually Alex realized somebody was staring at him. A pretty, blonde girl was standing next to the table. She glared at him with overt hostility. "What?" he asked. "Am I using the wrong fork?"

She scowled at him, pulled out a chair and sat down across from him.

"Problem?" he asked, certain that it was the usual case of mistaken identity.

What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Eating dinner?" he guessed.

"I mean, why are you in Port Charles?" she clarified.

Her question puzzled him. "I'm not Ryan Chamberlain, if that's what you're thinking."

"I know who you are. You're Ryan's brother."

"Alex, and you are...?"

"Felicia Jones." She waited for his reaction to the name.

He set his fork down. "Look, Ms. Jones," he said, aggravated. "Why I'm here isn't really any of your business, is it?"

"Yes, it is. After all the trouble your brother has caused, you've got a lot of nerve showing up here," Felicia asserted.

Alex retorted angrily, "Somebody has to be here for him; the whole damn town is against him."

"He kidnapped my daughter and tried to kill me," she snapped.

"That was after you drove him insane, wasn't it?" He was furious and his anger motivated him to defend Ryan, though he wasn't really sure if his brother was innocent. He was standing up now.

Felicia was vividly reminded of Ryan's anger and couldn't help flinching as Alex raised his voice. He sat back down and tried to control his temper. "Why don't you just leave. We don't have anything to talk about."

"No, I guess we don't," she said.

Jenny came over and timidly interrupted. "Felicia, I have to drive Ned home. I took care of the check. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm fine. I think it's time I left too." Felicia got up. "I can't say it's been a pleasure."

"Me neither," Alex agreed. As soon as she'd left he regretted having lost his temper. The whole situation must have been getting to him more than he realized. The atmosphere in this town was poisonous. He imagined this was how Ryan had felt.

RYAN'S TENUOUS GRIP ON REALITY BEGINS TO SLIP

The lantern cast flickering shadows that played around him. Ryan had the eerie feeling that he wasn't alone; a presence watched him. He tried to shake it off and hurried on.

He had reached the last hidden door when he heard laughter. The sound was clear and distinct and familiar. Ryan was frightened but tried to convince himself that he hadn't heard her laugh. His hand, slick with sweat, slipped twice before he was able to turn the ring. He kicked the bundle of blankets through and put the lantern in his good hand. He held it up high to expose as much of the corridor as possible to its light.

The darkness was an opaque mystery beyond the small circle of light. Surely there was nothing there. He tried to relax. He put the key in the lock but before turning it he looked up once again to check the corridor.

She was standing there in a backdrop of shadow and light; her golden hair cascading over a black gown. "Hello, Ry-baby. Did you think I wouldn't find you?"

Ryan desperately forced his shaking hand to turn the key and shoved the door open. He scurried in and slammed it shut behind him. He clung to the door, breathing hard and still hearing the echo of her laughter.

Robin was astonished when Ryan burst into the room. The man looked terrified, as if something or someone had chased him down here. "Is there someone out there?" she asked.

Ryan looked over at her and made a noticeable effort to try and pull himself together. "No, there's no one there." He didn't sound very sure to Robin.

Ryan dropped the keys as he tried to lock the door from the inside. He snatched them back up and managed to lock it on the second try. Robin hesitated, not wanting to agitate him any further, but intent on finding out what was going on. "What happened?" she asked him.

"Nothing!" Ryan shouted at her. He shoved the keys in his pocket and pushed himself away from the door. He stared at it, rigid with dread.

"Then what are you afraid of?" Robin asked him quietly.

He looked from the door over to Robin and back again. "She won't do anything," he said, contradicting his denial that anyone was near. "She won't; not while you're here; where you can see. Never where anyone can see." he ended in a whisper.

Robin was apprehensive. Before this Ryan had mood swings, alternately hostile and solicitous, but he hadn't exhibited any signs of being out of his mind. Now what was he talking about? "Who?" she asked him.

Ryan looked at her as if he were trying to remember who Robin was and why she was here with him. "I thought it was safe here," he confided. "She'd never be able to find me down here."

Robin frowned and took a guess, "Felicia?"

Ryan's attitude altered radically. "Felicia, is nothing like her!" he said angrily. "Felicia loves me."

Robin backed up, but Ryan seemed to have forgotten she was there. "She's just confused right now, that's...." abruptly he stopped talking. Robin followed his gaze to see upon what he was so intently focusing. There was nothing there.

She looked back at him. "What is it?" she asked.

He didn't hear her. "Go away. Leave me alone," he said weakly.

"Okay," Robin said, though he did not mean her. It was clear to her now that Ryan was hallucinating.

Ryan hadn't thought that his mother would follow him in here. She berated him. "You stupid, worthless excuse for a son; you have to be punished."

"I didn't do anything," he protested.

"You did what I say you did," his mother hissed at him.

"No, I didn't," he insisted, though there was a tremor in his voice.

"Ryan," she said, her tone threatening, "Why do you have to make everything so difficult for me."

Ryan looked down. He knew from long experience that she couldn't be reasoned with in this mood. What he had or hadn't done was irrelevant.

"That's better," she said with satisfaction. "I'll decide what to do with you later. I have more important things to do right now, more important than you."

Involuntarily he let a sigh of relief slip out. The only thing worse than his mother ignoring him was her paying attention to him.

She grinned at him maliciously. "They're going to kill you, you know." Mother disappeared.

Ryan leaned back against the stone pillar and closed his eyes. He waited until his heart had settled down to a more normal rhythm. He opened his eyes to find Robin staring at him with apprehension and concern. "Is she gone?" Robin asked, unmistakably humoring him.

Ryan chose to pretend nothing had happened. "I left the blankets in the tunnel, I have to go get them." But he was still shaking as he went to the door.

WEDNESDAY AUGUST 4TH

ALEX HAS A CONFRONTATION WITH BOBBIE

Nevertheless, he had come to General Hospital today with Jerry, to search his brother's office. He wasn't quite sure what they might find, but Jerry seemed to think that there might be evidence the police had overlooked, or as the attorney had put it, "They weren't looking too hard for evidence to convict him and they weren't looking for evidence to clear him at all."

Ryan's office had been closed off after his arrest and searched by the police. That had been over a month ago, but since then the hospital staff had apparently been unwilling to clear out the room and reuse it. When the two of them came in it was almost as Ryan had left it.

"Jerry," Alex said, surveying the office. "What exactly are we looking for?"

Jerry picked up a folder off the desk and flipped through it. "Anything personal, but I want to look at his patient files, too."

"Why?" asked Alex.

Jerry pulled a folded paper out of his pocket. "This is a photocopy of a list of initials that Commissioner Donely and his friends were convinced was a list of your brother's victims. I want to see if they match his patient files."

Alex took it and perused the initials. "This could mean anything."

Jerry reappropriated the paper. "They thought because the F.J. wasn't crossed off and the G.R. and M.B. were, that meant Dr. Chamberlain killed enough people to match the number of initials on that list. They took it to the FBI and searched the cities that he'd been in for women missing at the time he was there. Some of them matched."

Alex frowned, "You could get the same results with any set of initials."

"Tell them that," Jerry responded. "Anyway I'd like to prove that it means something else."

"Didn't Ryan tell you?"

Jerry shrugged. "I never took the time to ask. With Michelle alive it's not pertinent to the current charges."

Alex was curious about Jerry's motivation. "Then why look now?"

Jerry set the folder back down and looked directly at Alex. "It's a puzzle," he said honestly. "And a challenge, to take down this house of cards they built, one by one. I haven't got the whole picture of what went on yet and I want those last few pieces in place."

"Just remember those pieces are my brother's life," said Alex.

Jerry nodded and went over to open one of the filing cabinets. "They don't have enough to even try him for these serial killings, but he doesn't need that suspicion hanging over him for the rest of his life. I'd like to make it disappear." He shut the file drawer. "Like these files. It looks like someone's been clearing out the hospital paper work."

"Excuse me. What do you think you're doing in here?" said Bobbie Jones. Jerry and Alex were both surprised to see the red-headed woman standing in the doorway.

"We have permission," Jerry said as he opened the second file drawer. "Do you know what happened to Dr. Chamberlain's patient files? You are a nurse here or something, aren't you?"

Bobbie gaped. "Ryan's files were transferred to Dr. Anderson office." She started to take offense at his second question. "And I happen to be the head surgical nurse here."

Jerry thought for a second, and then shared the information he'd come up with. "Jones, Barbara Jean. Prosecution witness. You would have testified today."

"It would have been a pleasure." She did nothing to hide her animosity.

He raised an eyebrow and shut the drawer. "I think I'll head over to Dr. Anderson's office." He waved vaguely at the desk. "Alex, why don't you look through what's left in here. I'll be back in a while."

Alex's half-formed protest didn't emerge before Jerry was out of the room. Bobbie glared at him. Wonderful, Alex thought wearily, someone else who was eager for a confrontation. "He's not going to get off, you know. He's going to jail for the rest of his life for what he did," She said.

"Is that a fact?" said Alex, sitting down on the desk. "Nice of you all to let him have a trial first."

Bobbie scowled. "It's not a joke."

Alex tried not to let his temper slip again. "No, it's not. You know what I find hard to understand is how a building full of people devoted to medicine, who thought one of their colleagues was mentally ill, could go out of their way to attack him instead of help him."

Bobbie shook her head in disbelief. "How can you take the side of a murderer, even if he is your brother?"

Alex got up and walked around to the other side of the desk. "I didn't come here to take any sides, but I keep getting pushed over to his. I don't want to see Ryan hurt anyone. But I am his brother. I don't know if that would mean anything to him, but to me it means I don't just stand by and let him twist in the wind." His eyes held a glint of challenge as he looked at Bobbie. "And, frankly, I don't care what any of you people think."

She closed her mouth. "Fine, I'll just let you get on with whatever it is you're doing," she said with contempt. She left the room.

Alex took a deep breath and tried to let the negative vibrations subside. He began sorting through the papers. It looked like they had been thrown up in the air and then piled back together. They weren't in any kind of order at all. There were remarkably few personal papers. If he had private files he hadn't kept them here. He flipped open the next folder. It was dry reading; lecture notes on brain chemistry, from a course at a California University hospital.

He scanned a few of the pages. Ryan's notes were compulsively neat and detailed, so it seemed strange when some very sloppy notations began to appear in the margins. He made out the first one, 'Try to call Linda at five.' And a few pages later; 'Linda not home yet, try again tonight.' Alex checked the date on the notes; 1984, nine years ago. He remembered Jerry mentioning that Linda Carson was supposed to have been Ryan's first victim. He went on to the next page. Another scrawl on the lecture notes for the following day; 'Linda, Linda, quite contrary; now I'll never have to marry.' This puzzled Alex. Had Ryan found out that Linda was dead? Or had he been planning to kill her? The notes were dated. If they included the day of Linda's death that would clearly indicate that Ryan couldn't have gone from the hospital in California to run over Linda in New York. He'd have to ask Jerry about it. This could clear his brother of yet another murder.

RYAN AND ROBIN DISCUSS THEIR PARENTS

Ryan wasn't sleeping. Though he had pulled a blanket over himself, he was awake and staring into space. When she stirred in her corner his eyes flicked over to her but there was no emotion in them and he said nothing. She untangled herself from the blankets, and stretched out some of the soreness in her muscles. Stone floors were not comfortable for sleeping. She tried for a casual tone, hoping to reach Ryan that way. "I'm pretty thirsty. Is there any water?" she asked him.

He blinked. "What?"

"Is there any water?" she repeated.

Ryan tossed off his blanket and reached for the bag of supplies he brought in the day before. He pulled out the milk carton that he had rinsed out and used to hold the water. He shook it and the water swishing inside suggested there was not much left. He set it aside and extracted some bread rolls from the bag. "C'mon," he told Robin. "Breakfast is served."

Haltingly she stepped over to him. He handed her up a roll. She examined it doubtfully. "Where did you get it?"

"You don't want to know," Ryan told her. He passed her the water carton.

She took a few swallows and handed it back. He closed it up and put it back in the bag. She started to gnaw on the stale roll. Between mouthfuls she said, "This is definitely not a nutritious meal."

Ryan shrugged. "Sorry. It's the best I could do. I can't exactly go into the grocery store." He let loose a quick gasping laugh, but it sounded painful. "Mother wouldn't like it. She never let me eat anything unless it was practically sterilized first."

Robin frowned. She didn't want Ryan thinking about his mother. That might send him off the deep end again. "I remember my Mom had a fit once when I dropped a lollipop behind the couch and then tried to eat it," she said and smiled slightly at the memory.

"What did she do to you?" Ryan asked.

"Well, nothing." Robin paused and thought about it. "I guess she took it away."

"What was your mother like?" He questioned her with a zeal reminiscent of a hungry child asking for food.

"She was smart," Robin recalled. "And pretty. She had a great sense of humor."

"Did your mother take you places? Did you do things together?" Ryan inquired softly.

"Sure, all the time." Robin paused. "I miss her a lot."

"What happened to her?" asked Ryan. His life in Port Charles had been completely centered around Felicia. He'd never wondered before how Robin had ended up in the custody of her Uncle.

"She and my father were killed in an explosion," Robin said sadly.

"I'm sorry," Ryan said. "My father and mother are dead, too." He tipped his head and considered his own statement.

"My mother is dead," he repeated. "She was beautiful... and talented. Perfect," he said, almost in a whisper.

Robin tried to get him off the subject of his mother. "What was your father like?"

"I don't remember him. He was a doctor. He died when I was very young. It wasn't my fault," Ryan said nervously.

Robin was perplexed. "I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

"She said it was," Ryan recalled. "If I'd been a good boy, he wouldn't have died. And my brother wouldn't have died either."

Robin was horrified. Who would tell a child something like that? "That can't be true," she told him. "You didn't believe her, did you?"

"No," he said doubtfully and then more strongly, "No, it couldn't have been my fault."

Robin looked at her half-eaten roll. "You know, we really should get some more food. There's some money in my purse."

Ryan shook his head. She watched him thoughtfully for a moment. It might be a long time before anyone found them, if Ryan never regained the strength to go out. Robin thought she knew what he was afraid of or, more precisely, who. She took a chance, knelt down beside him and touched him. "Your mother is dead," she said firmly.

"I know," he said. "I know."

"She's not coming back. You don't have to be afraid of her," Robin told him.

"No, I don't," he said. "I mean, I'm not afraid."

"We need more food and water," she said matter-of-factly. "And another bandage for your arm. You'll have to go out."

Ryan took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, standing up and swaying slightly. "Any requests?" he asked, apparently still fighting the fear, but attempting to lighten the mood.

Robin smiled briefly. "Something nutritious," she said. As he locked the door behind him, she sighed with relief and wondered in what state of mind he might return.

THURSDAY AUGUST 5TH

Rather than just the Ryan portion of the show, this particular days episode included the scenes from other alternate storylines.

JASON AND VAL VISIT RYAN'S RETREAT

Val Duncan stood, one hand holding onto the fence, gazing up at the house. "C'mon," Val shouted down to Jason.

Reluctantly, Jason climbed the rest of the hill to join Val at the fence. I'm not sure this is a good idea. Robin wouldn't have come back here."

Val began to walk along the fence to reach the break. "I didn't think so either, but what your brother said, it sounded like this place."

Jason trotted after Val. "My brother is not the most reliable source in the world."

"Well, it rang true," said Val as he slipped under the fence. We've got to check it out."

Val stood on one side of the fence and Jason on the other. "Are we even allowed to be on this property?" Jason asked nervously.

Val pulled back the fence section. "Does it matter? Robin might need our help."

Jason sighed. He crawled under the fence.

The house looked even more rickety and threatening to Jason as they approached. To Val it was familiar territory. He went up the porch stairs and seemed surprised to find a padlock on the door, in place and locked. Val looked back at Jason, a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes for the first time. "Maybe we can find another way in." Val tried to peer through the cracks in the boarded up windows.

"That's breaking and entering," Jason said nervously as he came up the steps.

Val ignored him and went around to try the boards on the side window. "Robin's been missing for almost three days. If she's in trouble we have to find her fast."

"And we waste our time looking here, because A.J. had a feeling," Jason followed, objecting impatiently.

The board shifted under Val's hands. "No, we're looking here because I have a feeling...a feeling your brother is right." Val pulled the board down.

Even compared to the grey dimness of the day, it was very dark inside. Gracefully, Val leaped up, disappearing into the house. Jason paused. Val's voice came out of the darkness. "Hurry up. You're the one with the flashlight." Still Jason hesitated reaching, reaching out one hand to grasp the window frame. Then he began to pull himself in.

ALEX BRINGS SEAN NEW EVIDENCE

Jerry held the door open for him. "You're the one who found the papers. First hand accounts are always best."

Alex went in. He held back and let Jerry pass him. Jerry stopped and looked back at Alex. "Nervous? Maybe you ought to be. I should have gotten a big purple ribbon or something to tie around your neck so they don't accidentally jump you again."

Sean Donely had appeared in the hallway. "You're better than a ribbon, Price. You make a lot more noise." He handed some papers to the desk sergeant. "Now what was so urgent that you had to see me right now. Not more nonsense from that psychic of yours, I hope."

"No, just more evidence that will prove Ryan's innocence."Sean snorted in disbelief and shook his head wearily.

JERRY AND ALEX BRING SEAN NEW EVIDENCE

Jerry's expression became grim. "You believe that, don't you? No matter how much evidence points to the contrary. Your murder victim, Michelle, is quite a lively corpse. I wish we could go to court on the other murders you imagine he committed. I could smash your so-called evidence into a million pieces."

"And that wouldn't change the truth," said Sean.

For the first time, Alex spoke up, agreeing with Sean. "No, it wouldn't change the truth. But I don't think you want to find out what that is."

Sean eyed him suspiciously, but addressed his question to Jerry. "What are you two talking about?"

"For starters," said Jerry. "I took that list of initials you're so fond of and matched them up with a a series of X-rays Dr. Chamberlain asked for several days before Nurse Jones claims to have looked at that notebook in Dr. Chamberlain's desk."

Sean shook his head. "A coincidence."

"I could say the same about your interpretation," Jerry asserted.

"If that's all you've got, you're wasting my time," Sean said with disgust.

"No, that's not all," Jerry said sharply. "There are these." He pulled a sheaf of papers from out of his coat and held them out to Sean.

AN EMBARRASSED NED THANKS JENNY FOR HER HELP

Her reflection appeared in the mirror as she came through the hotel door. She was wearing a dark green dress that made her seem paler than she was. Ned closed his eyes briefly and sighed. He was sure she wouldn't let his embarrassing behavior of the night before pass without comment.

He turned around and faced Jenny as she came up to the desk. Sympathetically she reached out to touch his arm. "How are you feeling today?" she asked him.

"I'm fine," he said innocently. "How else would I be?"

Jenny gave him a sceptical look. "Well you might have had one hell of a hangover this morning."

"I guess I did let things get a little out of hand last night," Ned admitted.

Jenny laughed softly. "Yeah, I'd say so. You could barely walk to the car."

"Yes, well," said Ned, embarrassed, "I guess I have to thank you, don't I?"

"It would be nice," Jenny agreed.

He smiled at her. "Then, thank you."

"Anytime," said Jenny. "Just don't do it again soon."

Ned looked away from Jenny as he put the accounting papers under the desk. "I'm a little fuzzy on the details. How did you manage to get me...ah...safely home?"

"Well, you didn't pass out until after we got there," Jenny said casually.

Ned was puzzled. After? Apparently there was a part of the evening that he had blacked out. Ned didn't remember anything past the hotel door. "Did we have a good time?" Ned asked suggestively.

Jenny stared at him, wide-eyed.

JASON AND VAL SEARCH THE HOUSE

"Hand me the flashlight. I want to check the living room again," said Val. Jason gave it to him and followed him into the front room.

Val swept the light across one corner of the room. "There was a pile of blankets when Robin and I were here."

"Well, it's gone now. Anybody could have taken them. It's a hang out for runaways, right? That doesn't mean Robin came back here."

The beam of light glinted off something on the ground. Val bent to down to see what it was. "What is it?" asked Jason.

Val held it up. "It's the guitar pick I gave Robin."

"She could have dropped it when you two were here," Jason pointed out.

"Well, maybe," Val said doubtfully.

They were both startled when they heard the sound of the padlock rattling on the front door. Val quickly shut off the flashlight and instinctively drew back into the darker shadows. Jason followed suit. Breathlessly they waited to see who would enter.

MAC AND FELICIA DO A LATE LUNCH

"I am, but I'm not going to let you out of my sight until Chamberlain is behind bars again," Mac said.

"I hope that's soon," Felicia shuddered, and then dismissed the fear. "But if you're going to stick around, try to keep quiet when Marco and Jenny get here. I don't want you to mess this up."

"All right I won't," he sulked.

She noticed that his response was more subdued than it would normally be. "You're worried about Robin, aren't you?"

"It's been almost three days and nobody's seen her. It's not like her and with Ryan Chamberlain on the loose... Yeah I'm worried. Scared is more like it," Mac said uneasily.

"I'm sure Ryan's got nothing to do with it. She'll probably be home any minute," Felicia tried to reassure him, but seemed troubled herself.

"Maybe it's just that argument I had with her. I told her she shouldn't be going out with that Val guy," said Mac.

"I don't know why," said Felicia. "He seemed nice to me."

"He's too old for her. But I can't see Robin running off because we had a fight. She's too sensible."

"She is a teenager. And she's not really used to your putting limits on her," Felicia commented.

"So, you think it is my fault," Mac said, hurt.

"That's not what I meant, but you can be a little overprotective at times. You can be practically medieval."

"I am not!" Mac denied. "I don't want to keep her in dungeon. I just wanna make sure she doesn't leave the castle."

"Sean's got his people looking for her, doesn't he?" Felicia asked.

"Sure, but they haven't turned up anything yet. Sean's almost as worried as I am."

SEAN LOOKS AT THE EVIDENCE JERRY AND ALEX BROUGHT

"Notes," said Jerry. "Lecture notes. Look at the dates."

Sean did. "So?"

Jerry sighed, annoyed that he had to explain it. "They're notes Dr. Chamberlain made while auditing a course in California. They include the date on which one Linda Carson was killed by a hit and run driver."

Sean thought about it. "He could have dated the notes wrong to make sure he had an alibi."

"What? In case he needed reinforcement nine years later?" Jerry asked sarcastically. "With notes like that on them." Jerry pointed out Ryan's demented poetry. "Right, that's something he'd want to show the police."

"All right," Sean granted. "That might prove he didn't kill Linda. But what about all the other women he confessed to killing?"

"Like Michelle," Jerry said. "Face it Commissioner, your case is coming unraveled. Ryan didn't know what he had or hadn't done when he made that confession. He wasn't sane."

"He was sane enough to escape from Port Charles and plot a kidnapping. And we have an eyewitness to the murder he committed in Texas," Sean said tiredly, and then changed the subject. "Where did you get these papers?"

Alex spoke up, "I found them in Ryan's office." Sean gave him a doubtful look and Alex continued. "I'm not surprised your people overlooked them. They looked like any other medical stuff, and those files were a mess."

"They seem to have overlooked almost everything," Jerry said combatively.

Alex sighed, as it looked like Jerry and Sean would soon be back at their circular argument. "None of this evidence matters much either way if you can't find Ryan." Alex said with resignation.

RYAN RETURNS TO THE HOUSE

Ryan removed the padlock and gave a gentle push to open the door. He pulled inside the bag of supplies he had gathered. He let go of it and closed the door, reattaching the lock to the inside latches he'd placed. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Going out in the daylight was more dangerous than he cared for.

He lifted the bag with his good arm and started back towards the kitchen. He glanced into the living room as he passed, and tried desperately to dismiss it when he saw one of the shadows move and heard a gentle whispering. That was how it had started before. Ryan attempted to think of something else as he entered the kitchen. He opened the basement door. Robin. He would think of Robin. She would like the vegetables even if they weren't quite fresh.

Ryan descended down the basement steps, stooping at the bottom to set down his bag and pick up the lantern he had left there. Clumsily he lit it and then lifted the bag again. He didn't notice that a tomato had gone rolling out of it, coming to rest against the bottom of the stairs.

Ryan was accustomed to the way into the catacombs, and didn't even have to set anything down to open it now. he slipped in and the door closed seamlessly behind him.

JASON AND VAL REACT TO RYAN'S PRESENCE

There was a loo