The Devil's Sanctuary Read Online Free PDF

morning.”
    “No, thank you.”
    “Otherwise there’s the fitness center over there. The gym. Table tennis. And a pretty good exercise room, actually.”
    Max gestured toward a large building they were walking past.
    At its rear was a swimming pool. A couple of patients were lying on white recliners, soaking up the afternoon sun. Daniel shaded his eyes with his hand and looked at them in surprise.
    “When you wrote that this was a rehabilitation clinic, I imagined something completely different,” he said. “More like a hospital.”
    Max nodded. “This is a private clinic, as I’m sure you’ve worked out. For people who can afford it.”
    “So what does it cost to stay here?”
    Max screwed his face into a grimace and shook his head, as if it was far too painful to talk about it. “Too much for my budget, really. I can manage it for a while. But if I’m not declared well soon, things will come to a head. That’s why I behave as normally as I can. I keep my distance from the worst nutters, flirt with the female staff, and have learned conversations with the doctors. And I hear them talking behind my back: “What on earth is he doing here? He seems sound as a bell.” Obviously there’s a risk of them keeping you here to get more of your money. That’s why I’ve made it very clear to my doctor, Gisela Obermann, that my resources have almost run out and that I’d appreciate it if they could declare me fit again soon.”
    They carried on through the park. The air was cool and smelled of the forest below. From the direction of the tennis courts came the regular sound of balls being hit.
    “What sort of treatment are you getting?” Daniel wondered.
    “None at all.”
    “But you’re still getting your usual medication here?”
    A man was approaching along one of the paths. He looked like he wanted to talk to them, but Max put his arm round Daniel’s shoulders and steered him quickly in a different direction.
    “Gisela canceled all my prescriptions when I arrived. She wanted to see how I function without them. She always wants to see what patients are like without any medication.”
    He stopped, stood in front of Daniel with one hand on his shoulder, and went on in a firm, didactic tone, so that every word got through.
    “Examining a medicated patient is as bad for a psychiatrist as it would be for a doctor of the body to examine a patient with his clothes on. Obviously a patient like that could have a skin complaint and tumors without the doctor even realizing. The main purpose of psychotropic medication is the same as clothes, to conceal things. They don’t cure anything, they’re not like penicillin, they don’t kill off harmful bacteria and so on. They just sit like a protective layer of clothing over the illness.”
    Daniel nodded in agreement and backed away slightly to avoid the saliva spraying from Max’s lips as he spoke.
    “Or like one of those blasting mats,” his brother went on, “those things that muffle explosions and stop stones and debris flying about and hurting anyone. Nice and safe for anyone nearby, obviously. But…”
    Max jutted his head forward, fixing his eyes on Daniel’s and lowering his voice to an intense whisper: “What sort of damage do muffled explosions like that do on the inside?”
    He paused, his gaze still firmly fixed on Daniel, then started to walk again.
    A young man in jogging clothes ran toward them and they stepped aside to let him pass.
    “And how does your doctor think you’re doing without medication?” Daniel asked cautiously.
    “Fine, I presume. The last time we met she said she couldn’t see any reason to prescribe anything.”
    “Really?”
    Daniel was surprised. As far as he knew, ever since he was a teenager Max had been on regular medication. Periodically he had given up taking it, which everyone, him included, had realized was a big mistake. As long as he took his medication he felt pretty well and could live a relatively normal life. Yet