Chapter 14 14. A heavy burden

University of Chicago School of Medicine.It is a majestic building with a signboard. It looks absolutely genuine. It is definitely not a place where a doctor who is famous in the underground world like Mimi should appear. But he just took the lead and drove straight in, as if he had entered the land of no one.The reception desk, doctors, nurses, and security guards either turned a blind eye to him, or simply nodded and greeted him. They were naturally familiar and treated him as one of his own. Although I have developed a high quality in the matter of "admiring Mimi", I still couldn't help being surprised at this moment.

"In good conscience, how did you do that?" Morgan said lightly on the side: "Mimi used to work as an MD in the diagnostic department of Chicago Hospital, and then left, but she still insists on hacking into their personnel management system once a month to ensure that her account and authority are always in effect." He may also think that Mimi's doing this is too much, "He came to Chicago for a business trip on his own, and he just treated diseases in the outpatient clinic for a few days, and became familiar with everyone." "If it's only in one hospital in Chicago, there is a hospital in almost every city in the United States. He did this!!"

It’s really spraying me to death: “Use a name?” "Of course not, Mimi, can you remember all your names?" Mimi snickered at me and didn't take it seriously: "Of course I remember, otherwise you would think how I ran for my life when something happened to me." They swaggered into the hospital, took me to a certain ward and pressed me down. They familiarly pushed out a lot of scary things, such as needle hooks, knives and forks, and pipes, and began to torment me. Various biopsies, various blood draws, various cell extractions, heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys, blood, bones, head and feet, numerical composition standards, and a net of professional terms have been released.Sometimes I lay on my stomach, sometimes pouted, sometimes sore, sometimes hurt, sometimes I was anesthetized, and sometimes I was pushed into various instruments and lay dizzy, and my whole body was dying.But no matter how much I shouted about breaking my throat, no one came to talk to me. At most, some ignorant person said sympathetically to Mimi outside the door: "Have you got a very difficult patient?"

That bastard put on a stinky face of "No way, this is my life". From my point of view, the doctor's white coat didn't give him a sense of integrity at all. Instead, there was a kind of mystery that ordinary people couldn't see through. He was like a wizard who flew out of a nightmare. It took quite a long time for some test results to come out. He and Morgan stood by the side. Although their eyes were squinted, their hearts were clearly awake. As soon as these two came to their majors, they were two lunatics. The night was long, they didn't need to sleep, and they were tireless.The style of conversation between two people is particularly impressive. Sometimes one person only moves his mouth, and the other person just nods in agreement, or takes advantage of the situation to do the work that should be done.

Finally finished the whole set, I was exhausted and paralyzed on the hospital bed, the sky was approaching dawn, my waist was aching from the bone marrow pumped out, and I wondered if there would be sequelae in the rest of my life—rheumatoid arthritis or something.At this time, Mimi and Morgan washed their hands and came to condolences. I finally caught the opportunity and asked Morgan weakly: "What are you doing?" I tried to ask that question at the beginning and end of each exam, but they were both feverishly hyperactive and focused, and I couldn't put my mouth in it. Mimi worked all night and was hungry, so she took out a sandwich from her trouser pocket and ate it.

"Do you have a mini Subway shop in those gray, colorless pants?" He didn't talk much when he ate, just snapped his fingers, and Morgan understood.It seems that they want to talk about life and ideals with me. Morgan said earnestly, "Honestly, what do you think of the fact that you are a judge?" I shook my head: "I don't know how to look at it. It's purely bullying. I'm afraid it will kill innocent people." This kind of heavy burden doesn't seem to exist in the two genius doctors in front of me, in the pervert Speed, or even in Job and the owner of the tavern No. 10.

They don't know what they have experienced, so they can naturally handle it all gently, and then throw it aside at will. But I'm just an ordinary person. I don't know how Speed ​​learned about me, and what basis he insisted on dragging me through such a test. Sometimes I think, my really right choice is to spread my arms and walk away. But that weird feeling of "I had a chance to save an innocent man, but I gave up trying, so he died" would stick with me for the rest of my life. Can't get relief. This is probably the reason why I can only be a hooligan and never join the real underworld.

There was a look in Morgan's eyes. I was grateful that he understood me, and I was grateful for Number Ten by the way. If it wasn't for that damn place, where would I have met such a weird doctor. I also thought by the way, without me staring at Job's wine these days, and without Morgan staring at people who drank fake wine and fainted, it is not certain that the No. 10 Tavern may be burned down again. At this time, Morgan brought my thoughts back to the topic: "So, are you determined to continue?" I smiled wryly: "Fuck, it's as if I have a choice!" He was very indifferent: "It's only clean if you don't have a choice, you will know later."

Mimi handed over a five-inch mini tablet. I glanced at it and shivered, and turned my head away muttering: "It's good to buy a copy of "Playboy", it's early in the morning." He forced me to face it squarely and said, "This is the killer profile of the serial homicides of the elderly living alone in Chicago." There were words next to the pictures of the scene of the case, and I suppressed my nausea to see them. A summary of the characteristics of the victims: Between sixty-five and seventy-five, their children have been away for a long time or are widowed, with varying degrees of physical disabilities, and more than half of them are partially paralyzed, but it does not affect daily life.Before retiring, they were all professionals or high-paying corporate employees, so they could maintain a middle-class standard of living, which can be seen from the residential areas and home environment where they live.Social life is inactive, so most are not discovered until more than three days after their victimization.

They all died of severe systemic injuries caused by sharp weapons, and the first knife was stabbed in the face. "Who found these?" Morgan said, "Police." When they really can't solve the case, they spend all their time summing up the characteristics of the case, without missing any details, pondering over and over again, hoping that suddenly a flash of inspiration will come, and God will open a window to solve the case to reward their persistence . "I guess I know what the former Chief of the Chicago Police Department did that day. Is he really sick? Or did you go and poison someone, Mimi?"

Mimi was fine, but Morgan was a little embarrassed, and neither of them said this: "The police are not judges. Without real clues, no matter how many details of the case are collected, it is impossible to determine who is the murderer." I feel like my brain is broken: "I can? Are you trying to change my career to be a detective?" Mimi shook her head: "The Chicago police aren't too bad, and the Qiwu Club has possibly the best criminal investigation team in the world. Their style is very meticulous and pragmatic, and they are not the ragtag people who only rely on wishful thinking to act for the sky as imagined. So, one possibility is that Spade and the others deliberately tested you, but in fact they have found out who the real murderer is; the other is that they really can't do anything about it." The pairing of these two little bastards is like talking about cross talk, which made me very depressed: "If they can't do anything, then it's a puzzle, right?" "That's true for a detective or a policeman," Morgan said lazily. According to my experience, this kind of tone is usually followed by a thick but! ! "You're a good guy, but, I'm in love with another bad guy." "This project is really good, but, I have already invested in another project." So, what's the but here? Mimi leaned halfway on the sofa in the ward, stretched her waist and said, "All serial murder cases are a riddle, and the answer to this riddle naturally exists—in the eyes of the victim."