Chapter 16 Section fifteen

At 11:15 in the evening, when Hardy dragged his tired body back home from the front door, the house had no lights, and it was dark and silent.He even wondered if he still had the strength to climb the stairs leading to the bedroom, maybe he just collapsed on the sofa in the living room and fell asleep. In the living room fireplace, there was still a glimmer of fire from the embers.He put down the briefcase in his hand, pressed the light switch on the wall hard, turned on the dim overhead light on the ceiling, then twisted his body, took off his raincoat and suit, and walked to the other end of the room.On the mantelpiece were some decorative glass elephants that Franny had collected since she repurposed the fireplace, set in row next to a bonsai cactus.He had made a habit of rearranging them almost every day—a chess game with no rules and no board, it seemed, as a form of connection between him and his wife.It seems to have a little practical effect.Between the kids, her school, and his own work, there were times when he thought they almost needed an appointment to see each other.Without a date night of unchanging rituals, they lose all news of each other.So he moved those elephants a few steps.

The embers were still burning, and a cloud of sparks was scattered as the pyre collapsed.Hardy dozed off with one arm stretched out against the mantelpiece and his head resting on it.After a while, he woke up suddenly, and found himself sitting on a soft footstool at some point, with his elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the last glimmer of light in the fireplace. "I think I heard the door open." Franny was wrapped in a white Turkish bathrobe she'd bought in Napa a year ago on their last weekend away.She came over, stuffed herself into the little space he gave her, sat down next to him, and stroked his back with her hand.

"What are you doing up?" he asked. "Moses and Susan have been walking for a while," she said, "and I haven't fallen asleep." "Moses and Susan? What are they doing here?" "And Colum and Holly. Obviously you told them that we're going to babysit for them tonight so they can go out." That's only half of the problem, "It's certainly a matter of course for them. Good thing, but maybe next time you should let me know beforehand, especially if you're not going to be home." He hung his head and shook his head feebly. "What can I say? I'm such an idiot, sorry."

"Just know I'm sorry." Her hand continued to stroke his back.She didn't lose her temper with him about it, "but it's okay," she went on, "it's nothing, everything is fine. Luckily I happened to be home, that's all. By the way, Abu called. And A woman named Rebecca said she had something important to ask for you." Had he heard the news earlier in the day, he might have been interested.But at the moment, it just feels more like overtime. "She's a nurse at Portola Hospital, and I spoke to her today. It's a new case." He still brooded over Griski's questioning of his client behind his back.He tried not to let his anger show in his voice. "What did Abu want to say?"

"He said you'd know." Hardy pondered for a moment. "He lied." Was he supposed to give her a bunch of explanations?But her touch made him feel very enjoyable.It feels so good for them to be together at the moment.He leaned slightly against her arms. "He still got a testimony from my client after I told him not to do that. It was all judge-like questioning, full of gunpowder. Maybe he found out that my client hadn't done it at all and thought Say sorry to me. But I suspect that's not the case." "He must think your client did something." That's always a question.Ever since Hardy became a defense attorney, she has been uncomfortable with the reality that her husband is dealing not just with those accused of crimes, but often with those who actually committed them.If the accusation looks like a duet where you sing me and the ground, or stealing, or fraud, or something, then that's not too bad a situation.But if it's a murder, Franny is worried by the irrational conclusion in her head that anyone who kills is likely to take it out on someone else—their lawyer, as she says— And kill again. "Then did your client ever do it?"

"He said he didn't," Hardy said simply, "but that's what anyone would say." "Then do you believe what he said?" "I've always believed it." He faced her. "My problem is Abu. I don't know what he's done." "That's probably what he called to talk to you about, to explain to you." "I believe so," said Hardy, but Hardy didn't think so.He glanced at the watch on his wrist. "I'd love to call him right away and wake up the sorry ass." He sighed weakly. "What's the other call? Rebecca? The nurse Did she say something important?"

He could see that Franny hated having to admit it again.She had already told him once, and her duty had been fulfilled.Obviously, she wanted him to forget about it, but he didn't.Hardy didn't tend to forget about work, except for things like babysitting relatives' children that he had promised to do.Now it was Franny's turn to sigh resignedly. "She said she'd be waiting for your call no matter what time it was." "I guess she means it's okay now, huh?" "I think you should probably go to bed." "I'll try to keep it as short as possible, and it won't take too long."

He felt something disappear from her. "I left her phone number," she said, standing up. "Have you eaten?" He shook his head. "My client was finally starting to realize he was in trouble, but all I could do was get him to talk to me on the phone. Evenings were supposed to be his time with the kids. He thought he was with Gris Key will be over in half an hour. I asked him when he would be free so I don't have to go through our three way meeting to find out what I want. He said he didn't know if he would be available tonight and this Weekends with the kids too. He's busy all day and night. But I spoke to him on the phone and it seemed he was running out of time, so I suggested he call his ex-wife and change his schedule, Says he won't be picking up the kids tonight. We have something to talk about."

Franny just stood there motionless, looking down at him, with her arms folded across her chest, expressing her disappointment, dissatisfaction and sadness with her gestures. "There are still Xiatiao left in the refrigerator." She said indifferently. "I don't know if it's something important," Rebecca Sims said. “It’s okay,” Hardy said, “if it’s keeping you from going to bed, maybe it’s something worth talking about.” He sat next to the coffee table in the living room, yellow notepad spread out in front of him, phone to ear .He poured himself a glass of orange juice and drank half of it in one gulp. "Do you remember anything about Dr. Kenson?"

"No, not quite. Actually, not at all." Hardy didn't answer, waiting for her to continue. "I've been trying to figure out what I'm going to say because I don't really know of anything in particular that's worth mentioning, I'm not sure. I went back to the hospital building after we talked, and I was thinking about all the things we've discussed. Content. Do you know the general situation here?" "Of course. I remember." Neither of them spoke for a moment.The only thing audible on the phone was a hum from the line.Then Rebecca suddenly said, "The thing is, all the staff know there's a real problem here. I mean the nurses, maybe some of the doctors. But no one really talks about it, it's more of a It's a feeling, like a ghost hovering over the place."

Hardy closed his eyelids, which were almost too heavy to open.Her words sounded serious, without any hint of joking.This is terrible, he thought.The woman he'd picked at random in the hospital cafeteria, despite looking like a brain in broad daylight, was actually a nut, and now she'd got his home phone number.Franny was right, he shouldn't have put his home phone number on his business card. "Okay." Hardy was going to end the conversation. "I don't understand if a feeling—" "No, no," she cut him off. "That's not what I'm talking about. The thing is... I'm talking about people dying here." Hardy put down the juice glass he had picked up, and his fatigue immediately disappeared without a trace, and his eyes suddenly became refreshed. "What do you mean, who?" "The sick. The ones who didn't deserve to die. The ones who weren't so sick that they died so quickly." "What kind of patient?" "I think most of them are elderly patients, most of them are patients who have been admitted to the intensive care unit." "But you're not sure about that?" "Yes, I'm not 100% sure." He could hear the anger in her words. "Okay," he said, expecting her to continue down the line, "well, I'd be interested to hear from you." "But no one knows what's going on, or if they're..." "That's right. But anyway I'm more interested in what's going on there. It doesn't have to be anything out of the ordinary, like panic." "Yeah, that's true, easy money, insecure jobs, that's all. But to be honest, I didn't quite understand what it was all about when we talked, and to this day I didn't realize until I got home late..." "But what's the matter?" He asked this question as if he was trying to pry his mouth and pull out his teeth, but Rebecca's clenched teeth seemed to be starting to loosen. She paused for a moment. "It even feels a little silly to say it." "Can you try talking about it? I don't think it's ridiculously stupid, whatever it is, I promise." There was another long pause, and Rebecca was having a mental struggle between saying and not saying. "Well then," she said, "if people keep dying, when they shouldn't..." Hardy interrupted her to give her a hint. "Maybe someone is killing them on purpose." "That's what I'm trying to say, that's all." "Who do you think did it?" "Haven't thought about it. Maybe, I don't know. Like I said, I don't even know if it's true. But the first time I heard it was about a year ago, a man Had a cerebral hemorrhage, but it's one of those common things, you know, his family is out there looking forward to his recovery, and if he comes out of a coma, there's a good chance he'll be healed, and they Unwilling to stop resuscitating him, he has been waiting for him to wake up. Judging from his condition at the time, everyone thought he could survive for a long time, but after only two days in the intensive care unit, he died Died suddenly." "Fine," Hardy said, "but wouldn't this happen normally?" "Sometimes. Of course." "That doesn't necessarily mean someone killed him." "No, of course not." She was silent for a long time again, "If this happened to that man alone, everyone might have forgotten about it by now. But he seems to be the first person who died that month. Three patients. One of the nurses in the ICU mentioned it in the nurses' lounge, and there was this weird guy who was working there all the time, which was actually Nurse Rayan Badan. He was one of those who died The nurse on duty for the patient." "Anyone think he might be killing patients?" "No, no one really thought that, and I don't even know why I'm bringing it up. I mean, no one thought about it at the time, but then... it just kept happening." "It's happening over and over again..." Hardy repeated, "How many times?" "Well, I can't tell you the exact number. I really don't know, but it's frequent enough." He heard her on the other end of the phone let out a sigh of relief. Hardy took advantage of the situation and asked another question. "Do you know if anyone has reported this to the police? About this guy named Layan?" "No, I don't know. Wouldn't we know if someone had done it?" "You can think so." "And..." She stopped talking on the verge of her mouth. Hardy was in hot pursuit. "what?" "Nothing," Rebecca said after a pause, "nothing really." "Come on, Rebecca, you're going to say something." To say or not to say, this question made Rebecca hesitate for a while. "Okay . . . let's just talk about that then. It's going to be hard for someone to keep their job here if they report it to the police or the newspaper or whatever. I mean, look at Ken You can see what happened to Dr. Sen in the case of Emily. Just think about what would happen if Portola Hospital killed one of its patients and it got out. There is an internal culture in the hospital that ,” she paused, and searched her brains to find a word that she thought was appropriate, “Be wise and protect yourself, I think so.” “That’s the culture in most places,” he said, “but I don’t know if I can believe that. Are you saying the hospital doesn’t want to know if one of their employees is killing a patient?” "Well, they should want to know, they just don't want to let others know, just like they did with the case of incompetent doctors." "Determined as an incompetent doctor?" Rebecca responded with a few chuckles. "Basically, there are no incompetent doctors here." "Then what do you mean?" “What that means is that all the staff here are good until they get transferred and work somewhere else, like a hospital in Illinois. They get well-written references and even get a raise and a Relocation expenses, why? Because there are no incompetent doctors here." "And there is no whistleblower." It was a thought-provoking, serious statement that touched Rebecca's heart.Her voice became low, so weak that it was almost impossible to hear what she was saying. "I'm not one of them yet, Mr. Hardy. I've got three kids, and my husband and kids need me to keep the job. I don't know what's going on. I just think It might help you to understand the basics of the hospital, as you said, they are the basics. We know in our hearts that Mr. Markham was killed, don't we? Perhaps this will change Order something." "Maybe someone will report it to the police." "I don't think that's going to happen. I mean, what are they going to say?" "They'll say the things you just said to me." "But that's all unsubstantiated vagueness. There isn't any... not a single ounce of truth..." "There will always be dead bodies," Hardy retorted in a calm tone. "They can perform autopsies on those bodies. Have they done any autopsies? At least one or two of them." ever?" "I don't know. I don't think their families usually..." Her voice dropped suddenly, and she just repeated that she didn't know, "Anyway, you're not part of this place, I mean in Porto Pull the hospital. Maybe you can do something." Hardy felt like the conversation got him what he wanted, at least tonight. "Maybe I can," he said, "I'll do my best anyway." He thanked Rebecca for the call. "You're right. This situation is very important. There is really nothing to worry about. No matter what I do, it will not make you suffer. If there is anything, you can just call me boldly." He heard the gratitude in her words. "Thank you," she said, "you're a good man. I'm sorry it's late." After hanging up the phone, he stayed motionless by the coffee table for a long time, lost in thought.After all, he couldn't end the call in a very short time, and there was no doubt that Franny must have fallen asleep.Even if she didn't fall asleep, the feeling of wanting to be tender and lingering with him disappeared, and it was gone the moment she went upstairs.Rebecca Sims says he's a good guy, but at the moment he doesn't think he's such a good guy. Finally, he picked up the glass and drank the remaining juice, stood up with the glass, walked into the kitchen, and rinsed it in the sink.While wiping the water from the glass with a towel, he heard something familiar appear behind him.He turned around and saw that it was his son standing at the door, one foot on the other, looking at him with his head tilted. "Hey, little one," he said softly, "what are you doing?" Vincent isn't quite a big kid yet, but lately that little boy look has been missing from him.Now, his short hair stood up stiffly, his ears straightened up, and his plump, chubby body began to grow thin and skinny. "I can not sleep." Hardy walked over, bent down and said to him, "Have you not been asleep until now?" The little one sat on his lap and put an arm around daddy's neck. "No, I'm having a nightmare." "What kind of dream is it?" "You hid yourself there. We were all in this forest, but you just said you had something to do and you were going away for a while, and then we waited and waited until Mama said she was going to get you, but we Begging her not to go because she won't come back when she's gone. But she went anyway and left Baker and me there, so we started chasing her after mommy, and I Just woke up." Hardy could immediately understand the reality of this dream. Although Vincent certainly didn't mean to use this dream to blame him, he hoped that his son's mind was not so complicated.Had it been his sister, Hardy wouldn't be so sure.He pulled his son into his arms, and it was only tonight, at this very late hour, that his son would accept him being so close to him. "Okay, here I am," he reassured, "and if you wake up, it means you're asleep, doesn't it? That means you can still fall asleep, doesn't it?" The lawyer kept arguing with his son, trying to explain what he thought. "I thought so too," Vincent said. "Come on, I'll take you back to bed and let you sleep peacefully with the quilt on." In the bedroom behind the kitchen, Vincent's own bunk bore no sign that he had ever slept in it.He pointed to the back of his bedroom, the room Hardy had used as an office, and watched his dad go there. "I slept in Baker's room. Mom said it was okay." They reached the door that connected the two rooms, and Hardy noticed several blankets piled on the floor next to his daughter's bed. "Why are you sleeping here?" Hardy thought, no wonder his son couldn't sleep well. "You know Baker, she's scared." Vincent whispered in his ear. Of course Hardy knew.This is all caused by the weird awareness education in her school, which made Rebecca have an inexplicable feeling about death, girl suicide, abduction by strangers, AIDS, drug addiction, etc. A sense of extreme fear, which developed into a very dangerous state of mind about a year ago. "I thought we'd solved most of her problems on that front. What's she afraid of?" Hardy finished with a sigh. "It's mainly the darkness, and sometimes I'm afraid of being alone." Vincent realized what his father's heavy sigh meant, and quickly added, to cover up for his sister, "It's not It's like that every night. She's playing a lot better now than before." "Fine, I thought so too. Do you have a mattress or something under those blankets?" "No, I just slept on the floor." "I see what's going on," Hardy said. "It's not a nightmare, and it's not weird to wake up at half past twelve." , rather than outright criticism.By this time, the two guys in the room had established their own relationship—they had to stick together. "Then let's find you something, shall we?" So they took chair cushions from Vincent's room and spread them on the floor.After his son fell asleep, Hadi pulled the blanket over him. "Now you may be able to sleep in your own bed, and Baker won't find out." But the son shook his head and expressed his disapproval. The key is that he is willing to do so. "It's all right. She needs me here once in a while. Girls are timid, you know that, Daddy." Hardy lovingly rubbed his son's short stiff hair with his hands.Vincent didn't mean to put a knife in his heart, he was just sharpening his little man's mouth, hoping that one day he would use it better than his father's. "I know," said Hardy, stroking his son's bristling head again, "won't you kiss and say goodnight tonight?" Just after Christmas, and only occasionally when Vincent's guard is let down, or when no one else in the family is around, does he forget that kissing Daddy is not something to be embarrassed about.Hardy got lucky tonight, and it was one of the few goodnight kisses between father and son in recent times.He hugged his son a little longer than usual. "Okay, go to sleep, Wen." "I'm going to sleep now. Thanks, Dad." "you are welcome." "Want to hear a joke?" Hardy, who had just raised his foot halfway and was about to leave, stopped, and said with the last bit of patience, "Okay, just one." "What do you get when you turn an elephant into a cat?" "I have no idea." "No, you have to try to think about it." "Okay, I'm trying. Look, my eyes are closed." He counted to three silently, "Okay, I can't guess, give up. What's the answer?" "Don't you really know? An elephant becomes a cat? Think about it." "Wen..." He stood up and said. "A cat," said Vincent, "you turn an elephant into a cat and you get a cat. Got it?" "That's a good joke," Hardy said. "You should tell Uncle Abu about it. He'll like it." ※※※ For some unknown reason, he swaggered from one end of the house to the other, walked back and forth several times, randomly placed the glass elephants in random positions, and then Sitting in the living room for a while.By this time Vincent should have fallen asleep, so he got up and came to Baker's room again, bent down, and looked at the blurred faces of the two children sleeping on the cushion and the bed in the dim light.Now they are all sound asleep. Finally, he finally managed to convince himself to come to the master bedroom.He was worried, and checked the alarm clock twice to see if the alarm time was set at 4:30 again.He figured he'd have to make a family announcement that no one but himself and Franny would touch his alarm clock.He set the alarm clock back two hours and set it at six thirty. Lying on the bed, his wife was sleeping soundly beside him, but he couldn't sleep for a while, his mind was in a mess, thinking about those things that happened between his family that made him unable to figure out for a while. A kind of subconscious communication and communication.The elephant between him and Franny; although Baker has now shut up about the upsetting nonsense, she is clearly still vaguely unsettling and worrying; the last joke Vincent told him , obviously wanting his father to stay with him in the room for a while, though he wouldn't say it directly.The normal, reasonable and positive interaction between family members suddenly seemed to him to have changed, to deviate from the norm, and Hardy felt that he was out of control, a bit helpless and adrift. It’s just an inertia similar to the gravitational force of the earth, involuntarily following the rest of the family forward, but there is nothing really solid between them that can hold them together tightly . At this moment, he was lying on the bed without any sleepiness, and his son's words echoed in his mind. Although he was already exhausted and extremely sleepy, he just couldn't fall asleep.Now, a paradoxical question that came out of his memory occupied his mind again and troubled him.Earlier today, Rebecca Sims sneered at the idea that Tim Markham was killed in hospital.That was ridiculous, it must have been an accident, she said. Maybe Markham just died, and there was no other complicated reason. For this reason, she also reminded Hardy: "Everyone is going to die." But tonight, such a death case-unclear Possible homicide—had been a regular feature of Portola Hospital in the past year or so.He wanted to call her and find out where she stood.There's an underlying corporate climate at this hospital that doesn't allow for critical opinions, but maybe he's broken through that cultural barrier and can force her to think about the incredible thing about Markham, and it's been awakened Another ghost. But as far as the facts of these deaths are concerned—if they are true, if the implicative things contained in them that cannot be determined can be proved—no matter in what form they are exposed , not only his client, Dr. Kenson, will be involved, but others will definitely be involved.For Hardy, that meant putting in more time, taking on greater responsibilities, and getting deeper into it; less time with his wife, less time with his kids, and less time with his kids. There are fewer interests in the daily life of the family. At the same time, it meant that he was putting himself at a complete disadvantage.If someone—whether it's this Rayan Badan, or someone else in Portola Hospital—is actually killing people over and over again, and if Hardy is going to expose the crimes, then He too would come into the criminal's sight. He turned over, lay on his side, and seemed to have entered a kind of half-asleep stupor, and began to dream.He dreamed that he was swimming in the fast current with Pico's sharks, who were circling him, biting him and rushing at him.Then there was something installed in his house, and there was an inadvertent noise from outside. He felt adrenaline rushing through his body, and a shock made him unable to lie down anymore.He threw off the quilt covering his body and sat up straight from the bed with all his strength, panting heavily. His actions startled Franny. "Dismas, are you alright? What time is it?" "I'm fine. I'm fine." Although he said so in his mouth, he actually felt that he was not like this.The great terror that Rebecca Sims had described hanging over Portola Hospital he hadn't paid much attention to seemed to be spreading over him now, too.Even the all-too-familiar darkness in his own bedroom made him feel ominous at this moment, as if something terrible was lurking on the edge of the darkness. He thought to himself that these were the unreasonable fears that arose after waking up from nightmares, and they were nothing more than normal, trying to laugh these dreams away with this explanation.But they clung to him, and he couldn't let go of them.Finally, although he felt that his actions were a bit ridiculous, he still couldn't help turning on the bedside lamp and thinking about what was there next to him. Certainly nothing.nothing. Even so, it took him quite a while to get his short, heavy breathing back to normal.Finally, he let himself lie on his back and pulled the quilt over him.After a while, he turned over and leaned against his wife to settle himself down in a spoon shape. Sleep finally took a merciful look at him and let him fall asleep before his mind began to wander again.