His caretakers at Littlebrook Hospital in Dartford, England, call him "the Piano Man." Found on April 7 wandering in a daze down a country road on the Isle of Sheppey, the patient has yet to speak a single word. But when social worker Michael Camp offered him a pencil and paper, he sketched a picture of a grand piano. Escorted to the piano in the hospital chapel, the man played classical and Beatles tunes for more than two hours—leaving his stunned listeners to debate whether they'd just heard a talented amateur or a virtuoso. "His repertoire consists of a small number of tunes," says the Rev. Steve Spencer, the hospital chaplain. "When he plays, he loses his terrified expression."

Six weeks later, the Piano Man remains a mystery. On the rainless day he was found, he was wet and clad in a suit and tie with the labels cut out. Thinking he might be an asylum seeker who'd jumped from a passing ship, hospital officials called in Polish, Lithuanian and Latvian interpreters, all to no avail. When musicians' organizations in Britain and Europe produced no leads, Camp asked photographer Mike Gunnill to shoot pictures for wide dissemination. At the sight of the camera, says Gunnill, the patient "curled up in a ball, put his hands over his head and started crying."

Though the patient still cowers each time a person enters his room, there are signs of progress: He is washing himself, and he sometimes responds with nods and blinks, which suggests he may be learning a bit of English. Health workers remain convinced that the man's muteness is no hoax. "He's nervous, he's anxious," says Adrian Lowther of the West Kent National Health Service Trust. "There's nothing to suggest this is a prank."