Chapter 5 chapter Five

The blue light on the roof of the patrol car flashed on Lehn, making him feel like a ghost.It's just that he didn't expect the situation to be worse later. "What happened?" he asked. "I don't know yet. It's scary anyway." The patrolman looked very young, his tone was natural and sympathetic, but his eyes were full of confusion, and he seemed to be unable to stand still.He was holding the car door with his left hand, and stroking the handle of the gun with his right hand in a panic. When Le En arrived ten seconds ago, he heard him breathe a sigh of relief.

Lehn thought, the kid is scared.Le En comforted him and said, "We'll find out later. Where's the body?" "It's hard to find that place. You can go with my car." Le En nodded and returned to the car, followed the blue flashing lights around the central building, and curved in the courtyard.The patrol car turned right three times and left twice within thirty seconds, and then stopped in front of a short building with yellow walls and a black roof. The building looked very old, with a flickering lamp on the dilapidated wooden door, and the light bulb was covered with an old-fashioned milky white glass ball, which was almost useless in the dark.The patrolman climbed out of the car and stood in the same position as before-holding the door and the handle of the gun, as if it would protect against the night and what he would see later.

"There," he said, looking at the double wooden door with alarm and horror. Le En suppressed his yawn and nodded. "Shall I go get more people?" asked the patrolman. "Look again." Le En repeated in a good-tempered manner. By this time he had gone up the steps and pushed open the door on the right, which creaked because the chain hadn't been oiled for a long time.He went up a few more steps and saw another door leading into a dimly lit corridor.Wide corridors with high ceilings run through the entire building. On one side of the corridor were private rooms and wards, and on the other side were apparently intended for toilets, bedding cabinets, and examination rooms.There is an old black pay phone on the wall, and it costs ten ohms (Swedish currency, one krona equals a hundred ohms) to make a call.Le En stared at an oval enamel white plate with two words "Emma" simply written on it, and then he turned to look at the four people in front of him.

Two of them were policemen in uniform, one of them was a stocky man standing with his legs spread apart, his hands hanging at his side, his eyes looking straight ahead, and an open black leather notebook in his left hand.His colleague leans his head against the wall, looking at the enamel washbasin on the iron frame, with an old-fashioned brass faucet on the washbasin. This is probably the young man Lehn encountered during his nine hours of overtime. The youngest.Although he was wearing a real police leather jacket, shoulder straps, and a weapon, he looked like a fake.A gray-haired woman wearing glasses slumped on a wicker chair, staring blankly at the white wooden shoes on her feet.She was dressed in a white nurse's uniform, and her pale calves were dotted with ugly varicose veins.The fourth was a man in his thirties, with curly black hair, biting his knuckles nervously, also wearing a white coat and clogs.

The smell in the hallway was terrible, smelling of disinfectant, vomit, or medicine.Maybe all three.Lehn sneezed suddenly. He tried to pinch his nose between his thumb and forefinger, but was too late. The only person who responded to the sneeze was the officer with the notebook.He didn't say anything, just pointed to a pale yellow door, and a white card typed and placed in a metal frame.The door was not fully closed, Le En gently pushed the door open, and there was another door inside that was also ajar, but this door opened inwards. Le En pushed the door open with his foot and looked into the room. He took a breath, let go of his nose, and looked again, this time more carefully.

"My God," he said to himself. Lehn took a step forward, letting the outer door snap back into place, then put on his glasses and began examining the business card in the metal frame. "Christ," he said. The police officer has put away the black notebook and pulled out his badge, which he holds in his hand like a rosary. It's funny, Lehn thought, that the badge would be dropped soon.The long-running debate—should the police badge be worn on the chest as a direct identification or hidden in the pocket—will die down. In the future, the police badge will be replaced by an ordinary identification card, and the police only need to wear a uniform.

"What's your name?" Leon asked loudly. "Anderson." "When did you arrive?" The policeman looks at his watch. "At 2:16, that is, nine minutes ago, we happened to be in the nearby Odin Square." Le En took off his glasses and glanced at the boy in uniform. The little ghost had a green face and vomited into the washbasin completely out of control.The older patrolman followed Le En's line of sight. "He's just a police cadet," he said humbly. "This is his first tour." "It's best to help him." Le En said, "Also, go and ask the Fifth Division to send five or six more people over."

"Fifth Precinct please scramble, yes, sir," Andersson said, almost failing to salute or stand at attention. "Wait a minute," Lehn said, "do you see anything suspicious here?" Maybe he didn't express it very well. After hearing this, the policeman stared at the door of the ward in confusion. "Well, uh..." he faltered. "Do you know who that person is inside?" "Is it Team Leader Nieman?" "That's right." "I thought you couldn't see it." "Yeah," Lehn said, "it's almost invisible."

Andersson left. Le En wiped the sweat from his forehead, thinking about what to do next. He thought for ten seconds, then went to the public phone and dialed Martin Baker's house. "Hi, I'm Leen, I'm in Sabasberry, can you come over?" "Good," said Martin Baker. "Hurry up." "it is good." Lehn hung up the receiver and walked back to the others to wait.He handed his handkerchief to the cadet, and the boy wiped his mouth sheepishly. "I'm sorry," he said. "Anyone can." "I can't help it. Does this happen often?"

"No," Lehn said. "I've been a policeman for twenty-one years, and to be honest, I've never had anything like this happen." After speaking, he turned to the curly-haired man and said, "Is there a mental ward here?" "Nix verstehen," said the doctor. Lehn put on his glasses and looked at the plastic memorial on the doctor's white coat. His name was printed on it: Dr. Uzkuko Kotupuz. "Oh," he said to himself. Then he took off his glasses and waited quietly.