Chapter 1289 Another Vague Direction
On the afternoon of the third day
The continuous, high-intensity, and high-precision reading and analysis took a heavy toll on Vincent's energy.
He rubbed his temples vigorously, mimicking Scrinkler, and leaned against the filing shelf to reorganize his thoughts.
The lack of any useful clues suggests that the killer either remained perfectly hidden from official records or that he had accessed the wrong type of file.
His gaze swept over the injury reports again, especially the descriptions of difficult-to-treat and unusual burns.
An idea gradually became clear: the injury assessments and detailed descriptions in all reports largely relied on the diagnostic records of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Illnesses. The Aurors and accident investigators of the Ministry of Magic were not medical experts, and the descriptions of corrosive burns, traces of unknown curses, etc. in their reports all originated from the St. Mungo's laboratory.
In other words, the records of injury details in the Ministry of Magic's archives are all second-hand information, having undergone professional interpretation by healers and possible information filtering.
To obtain the most original description, he had to look for it at the source of the information.
Vincent straightened up with a sharp look in his eyes.
The search for a needle in a haystack over the past few days may have been misguided, but it was not in vain.
If his guess is correct, then the medical records at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries must contain clues about the murderer.
As he left the archives area, the old administrator looked up and glanced at him through his thick glasses. "Director Scrinker, did you find the clue you needed?"
Vincent slowed his pace. "It's just another vague direction."
The old administrator nodded, said nothing more, and continued to organize the index cards in front of him, which seemed to be endless.
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The air at St. Mungo's Hospital for the Injuries and Wounds, with its uniquely distinctive scent and abundance of herbs, remained unchanged despite Scrimgeour's arrival.
He presented the hospital director with an official letter from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as well as a special investigation order personally signed by Director Amelia Bones, with compelling and irresistible reasons.
"Given the mysterious traces of magical damage found in the Gringotts incident, in order to assess its potential harm and trace the source of the dangerous magic, it is necessary to review all recorded cases of serious injuries with similar characteristics in recent years for cross-comparison and threat assessment."
The letter specifically mentioned several unsolved cases within the Ministry of Magic, including the accidents involving magical antiquarians and former employees, suggesting a possible connection to the Gringotts attack.
In the current tense atmosphere in the wizarding world, any clue that may be related to Vincent Wayne is of paramount importance.
The hospital director carefully reviewed the documents, then whispered to several senior therapists for a moment before reluctantly approving limited access.
“Director Scrimgeour, I must emphasize that patient privacy is protected by magical laws. You may only view the pathology of the injury and the treatment process; your identity information and other private details will be shielded. Furthermore, you must view these details in a designated room, accompanied by our staff.”
“Yes.” Scrinker’s answer was concise and forceful.
A few minutes later, he was taken to a small room in the basement of the hospital, which was not only quiet but also somewhat oppressive.
The room was filled with crystal memory jars and heavy parchment medical records awaiting review. He was accompanied by a young intern therapist who looked both nervous and curious.
The real challenge begins. At least the Ministry of Magic's files are classified according to the nature of the case, while St. Mungo's files are classified according to multiple dimensions such as the type of injury, severity, time of hospitalization, and attending healer.
To find clues related to the murderer, he couldn't overlook any file in the vast medical archives that recorded neck corrosion injuries.
Compared to the workload in the Ministry of Magic's archives, even the most conservative estimate is at least ten times greater.
Time slipped away in the tedious process of flipping through and selecting, one day, two days...
On the fifth day after Scrimgeour's reinstatement,
Ministry of Magic, Office of the Minister.
Fudge's patience had run out, and his fingers tapped impatiently on the shiny tabletop.
"Five days! A full five days!"
He shrieked at Percy, who was standing to the side, "He has never given me a single formal report! He has never even chaired a meeting in the Auror's office!"
He slammed his fist on the table. "The Aurors are like headless flies! The wizarding world is waiting to see what we do, to see how we catch that dragon-riding madman! And what is he doing? Hanging out at St. Mungo's looking at those moldy medical records!"
Percy dared not utter a sound, and could only purse his lips tightly.
Growing increasingly agitated, Fudge abruptly stood up. "Percy! Get Rufus Scrimgeour to me immediately! No matter where he is in St. Mungo's, find him for me!"
What could Percy's junior assistant do but obediently carry out his orders?
At St. Mungo's Hospital for the Magical Injuries, just as Scrimgeour was engrossed in a medical record from eight years ago, there was an urgent knock on the door.
The intern therapist opened the door, and Percy, who looked a little reserved, stood outside.
"Director Scrinker, Minister Fudge wants you to come to his office immediately; he has urgent business to discuss."
Without looking up, Scrimgeour continued flipping through the medical records in his hand. "Tell him that I am currently tracking down leads on the Gringotts attack, which is more important than his emergency meeting."
Percy opened his mouth, knowing what the effect would be if these words were relayed back, but he was even more aware of the Auror office director's uncompromising style.
“I will pass on the message, Director Scringer, Minister Fudge is very insistent—”
“Then let him hold on.” Scrimgeour finally looked up. “Weasley, if you have any extra energy to worry about Fudge’s feelings, go and monitor Gringotts’ cleanup site, and then come back and tell me what important information Fudge has been covering up.”
Percy dared not meet his sharp gaze.
Even now, Fudge still suspects that Vincent attacked Gringotts for something important, and has even sent extra people to secretly investigate, while the outside world is completely unaware of this.
If Scrimgeour finds out...
Percy lowered his head, feeling even more guilty. "Director Scrinker, I'll go back and relay your message right away."
After saying that, he fled the room as quickly as if his life depended on it.
Scrimgeour squinted at his departing figure.
The filth in Gringotts vault probably hasn't been discovered by the Ministry of Magic yet, and it's unclear how Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix are doing with their investigation.
He shook his head and refocused his attention on the case.
The case from eight years ago described in detail a deep magical erosion that was extremely stubborn and reacted abnormally to conventional healing magic and bone-regenerating potions. The victim's profession was obscured, but the attending healer's notes did not record the treatment process in detail.
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