Chapter 21 Section 20

At eight o'clock the next morning, Hardy was on the road. He didn't know which of the many hotels or motels they'd be staying in, but if Franny and the kids were staying in Monterey, they'd be going to the aquarium first. Fifteen minutes later, the aquarium will be closed and visitors will be restricted from entering, but there is already a long line of visitors on the road from the entrance to the hillside.He searched from the hillside until he reached the end of the line at the entrance, but he couldn't find them.Then he found a low wall across the street, on which he could sit and rest while watching the growing line.

Driving all the way from Highway 1, he didn't see fog on the coast, and there was no sign of fog at all.Normally, Monterey is as foggy a city as San Francisco, but today was clearly a sunny day.It didn't take long for him to feel that he no longer had to wear the light coat he was wearing. They appeared on an uphill corner two streets away from him.The children were playing and fighting, showing their childishness at that age.Even from this distance, Vincent's goofy giggle wafted into his ears, followed by Rebecca's scream, as if she had swooped in from behind him to frighten him. Clear and audible.Franny walked a few paces behind them, watching them romp with indulgence, her hands in the pockets of her Stanford sweatshirt.She was wearing shorts and running shoes, and with her fluffy long red hair that was casually let down, it was easy for people to see her as the older sister of the two children, that is, between eighteen and twenty years old.

Hardy stood up from the low wall and continued to watch them slowly walking in his direction.The children were having fun like naughty puppies, teasing each other with their hands and laughing loudly.At home, the children's fighting has often irritated Hardy, especially in recent months.Suddenly, from this distance, Hardy felt he could look at the issue objectively.His kids were just playing in their own way with what they should be playing at their age.In fact, they are good obedient and sensible children, and they suddenly got an unexpected vacation, and they are enjoying a wonderful, carefree and healthy time together.

Is there something wrong with me that I can't appreciate them more and make them happy?Hardy was puzzled by this. Now that Rebecca had her arms around Vincent's shoulders, they were almost the same height.With a sudden lunge Franny swooped down the slope and caught them, yelping with joy, stabbing them in the ribs and tickling them. "I've got you!" The children let out a series of screams and laughter.At this point, they turned to face Mom, and kept running around her, while Mom happily dodged and ran forward.How happy are they at this moment?Hardy couldn't imagine it.

Vincent made another attack on his mother and managed to escape.At the same moment, Hardy got up and crossed the street, only one block away from them.His son stopped and looked at him from above.After a while, Vincent recognized Dad and rushed down without hesitation, squealing "Dad" happily.Five seconds later, he was through the traffic, running at full speed into Hardy's arms, his arms and legs wrapped around his dad, and before Hardy could put him down, he gave Hardy A solid hug. "I thought you weren't coming. Mom said you were too busy." "I decided not to keep myself so busy." Rebecca also ran over and hugged him with open arms. "I'm so glad you're here, Dad. It's such a perfect day, isn't it? Can't believe how beautiful it is. I'm so happy."

"I think so too." Hardy let her stay in his arms for a moment, then raised a hand in a guilty and timid greeting to his wife. "Hi." She folded her arms across her chest and said calmly, "Hi." Rebecca - who can't escape anything - asked, "Are you two guys pissing each other off? You're not planning on getting a divorce, are you?" "Never thought about it," Hardy said, still holding his daughter in his arms. "Even if we were mad at each other, we wouldn't divorce." "are you sure?" "Ridiculous, Baker." Vincent, who had lost patience with his sister's paranoid behavior, couldn't help but interjected, "How many times have they told you? They don't intend to divorce." His head was between his parents. Turning back and forth between them, expecting their affirmative answer, "Right?"

"That's right," Hardy said. Franny has been afraid to say a word on this topic, but suddenly, the expression of indifference on her face changed, and she came to Hardy who was holding Baker in a few steps . "I love your father very much," she said, kissing him on the cheek, "and we will never divorce, ever." She stared at him for a while. "Though one day I might have to kill him." His daughter's jaw dropped, her mouth opened in astonishment, her eyes widened in terror. "Mother!" "It's just a joke, Baker, it's a joke." Vincent rolled his eyes, mocking his sister's foolishness, to help his parents. "It's like she's really going to kill Dad." Then, suddenly, just as he seemed to be careless, he took advantage of an opening and poked her finger again.She immediately burst into laughter, turned around and ran away from Hardy's arms, chasing him down the hill.

Now the kids were all gone, leaving only Hardy and Franny standing there. "Would you like me here?" he asked. "Of course. Although I don't want me to attract your attention by kidnapping a child." "I hope so, too. But I guess it has to be sometimes." "I don't think you were born with this kind of personality. Maybe you can find a way to make yourself change." "Believe it or not, what I'm doing now is trying to change myself. I'm trying. I'm trying as we speak," he added, before shaking his head sadly. "I'm sorry."

She put an arm around his waist and started walking down the hill. "I won't take it to heart." Bracco lives in three houses on Pachter Avenue in the Sunset District, with a detached garage below and his father's house in front. He's been out at work for the past week and has barely had time to go home, so he's back here this morning for a nap.After an hour-long workout with dumbbells, he went for a jog, then ate five bananas with a box of cereal.By this time, he had showered, dressed, and was sitting with his father at the wooden kitchen table next to a window that was open.The back of the house is south-facing, and the sun shines in from the outside, covering half of the table.From time to time, a breeze would blow in from outside and shake the lace curtains by the window.

Angelo Braco looks a lot like his son, but he lost his wife six years ago - she used to cook him healthy meals and keep him in good health shape.After his wife died, he returned to the simple and monotonous diet of meat and potatoes.Then he started working as a driver for the mayor, sitting behind the wheel all day long.Over the past few years, his physique has ballooned like sourdough bread.Come to think of it, his five-foot-nine frame supported about two hundred and twenty pounds.This morning, he was wearing a fitted T-shirt.Father and son each took a sip of coffee from their own cups, and Darrell decided to say something. "You know, if you want, you can work out with my dumbbells. They're out there."

His father chose to answer his proposal in a roundabout way. "I saw you go out this morning. How far did you go?" Darrell shrugged resignedly at his father's answer. "I don't know exactly how far. Maybe five miles. It's a nice day for a run." "Irresistible temptation, huh? Feeling burning, as they say?" Angelo took a sip of his coffee. "If I ran five miles, I'd probably drop dead." "You may be like that, but you don't want to run that long distance at the beginning, you can gradually increase the distance." Angelo understood that his son was doing his best, and nodded in approval. "Well, maybe I will." "I can go for a walk with you if you want. You've got to start doing something, Daddy, and let some of the meat off your belly," he said, pointing to his father's high bulge. It works just as well as running." "For what? Do you believe that?" Darrell smiled weakly. "No, but it's a start. But the dumbbells...I mean, there's a lot of exercise these days. You can even join a club." These words elicited a burst of hearty laughter from Angelo. "Maybe I'll go for a walk. Well, really, I'll think about it. But join the club, okay? I don't want people to see me suffering." He straightened up in his chair, fearing that he would Accidentally say what's on your mind, "So that's why you knocked on my door? To preach to me about the benefits of problem solving?" "No," Darrell said gravely, "I happened to notice my dad put on a little weight, and it probably didn't do him any good, that's all. I wish he lived a little longer, okay?" "it is good." "So I'm here for Harlan's sake." "What's up with him?" "Listen, it's Saturday and neither of us have work schedules, if nothing happens, I don't have anything difficult to do today. If we're going to go out, it's because of this murder case we've got , to interview witnesses. To get this case done, you have to go out. But he's a family man, and it's Saturday . . . I just told him." "Then what's bothering you?" "What's bothering me is that we're partners, and I don't want to brush him off, but I'm going to talk to some people." "Then call him again, tell him what to do, and do it." "It's as simple as that, huh?" His father nodded. "That's usually the case." "Today is Saturday, April 14, 2000. The time is twelve twenty. My name is Sergeant Darrell Braco, and my badge number is 1689. I His usual address is 2555 Brevard Lake. The interviewee is Jamie Rush, whose date of birth is June 12, 1958. This interview is based on case number 002231977 investigation." Question: Mrs. Rath, what do you know about Karamakam? A: She is my good friend.I've known her since our daughter was in kindergarten together. Q: When was the last time you saw her? A: Last Tuesday, after hearing what happened to Tim, I went to her house. Q: How late did you stay there before you left? A: It was past nine thirty when I left, it was a quarter to ten. Q: Aside from the family in Markham, who else was there when you left? A: Dr. Kenson is still in the living room.The rest of us left in droves though. Q: Did you know Dr. Kenson before that night? A: I know him, but we haven't met.I think Carla looked a bit surprised when he came. Q: Why? A: That's what happened...that's what makes it awkward.He didn't get along with Mr. Markham, and he happened to be the doctor on duty that day.Of course, this was before I knew that Dr. Kenson had killed Tim. Q: I don't think we know yet if he killed Mr. Markham. A: I think so, and I think he also expected Kara to thank him for getting rid of Tim.Unbeknownst to Dr. Kenson, they have let go of their feud and reconciled. QUESTION: You're saying Mr. and Mrs. Markham didn't live together until his death? Is that right? A: Objectively speaking, but then, just last weekend, Kara told me they made up.Tim bared his humble soul to her, told her everything about his extramarital affairs, the difficulties he encountered at work, the incredible pressure he endured, the fear and anxiety in his heart.Therefore, she has renewed hope for their marriage.They had been at home together on Tuesday, so she couldn't accept his sudden departure.This incident was like a bolt from the blue to her. Q: Does she look hopeless to you?Any hint of her possibly suicidal tendencies? Answer: Absolutely not.I've known Carla for nine years, Agent.In the last two years of their separation, she has come to terms with not having Tim.Why?Because one day she would leave him anyway, and she knew it. Q: But you just said they've reconciled. A: Just this time.But who knows how long it will last?Tim would eventually revert to his old ways -- that's what he was -- and eventually leave her anyway.She knows it well, I'm sure.So his death might have been disappointing to her, or sad in some way, but inevitably there was an element of relief mixed in with it.But she wouldn't kill herself for it anyway. ※※※ Kenson walked up the six steps and pressed the bell button next to the door.This is his old house on Anza Street.He still thought of it as his house, and it was painful to see that Ann had disfigured it.The once bright and inviting wall paint has faded, become dull and pale, has lost its former luster and is patchy and peeling here and there.The white exterior trim of the house has also turned gray.A dilapidated scene.One end of the shutter of the window closest to him had fallen off and hung crookedly over the corner.The pot holders on the windowsill were dirty and somehow got where they shouldn't be.Not to mention the flowers that he had painstakingly planted in it, they have long since disappeared.Having said that, in the days when he and Ann were loving, they had been taking care of the house, even if they both worked full-time, they would find time to tidy it up, make it clean and beautiful. At this moment, he looked down and saw the half-year-old garbage piled up in the corner of the porch-crushed beverage cans, waste newspapers and advertising materials soaked by the recent heavy rain, candy wrappers, etc., in a mess .He thought, he had to do it himself and start to replant the flower pots on the window sill with flowers and plants. Where is Ann?Hell, if she's still asleep, he's got to do something, though he doesn't know exactly what to do.She should wake up, at least let the children eat breakfast.He rang the doorbell again, but there was still no movement in the room. He guessed that the doorbell must have been broken, so he knocked on the door again, very hard.He beat it more than three times with his fist and shook the door with his hands at the same time, but there was still no movement.Just as he was about to turn around and leave, he heard her voice from inside the room. "Who is it?" "I'm Eric, Ann, open the door." "Didn't you get my call?" she asked. "I called you two hours ago." "Hi, Dad," his nine-year-old son called from across the house. "Terry, don't make noise!" "Hi, Terry. Hi, girls. Are you all there?" He heard the answer from his two daughters, Amber and Kathleen. "Don't shout!" his wife yelled at the girls, then spoke to him through the door, "I left you a message telling you not to come over." It was Ann's favorite trick.Although she knew Eric had a cell phone and a pager, she would only call his home number and leave a message that he would not receive.Then she can lash out at him for not seeing her message. "Oh, I definitely didn't get it. Have you tried calling my cell phone?" "I didn't think to call your cell phone. I thought you'd be home." "The weather was nice this morning. I went out to breakfast." "I assume it's with your girlfriend?" He didn't feel the need to answer the question, but tried to turn the doorknob to open the door. "Come on, Ann, will you open the door?" "I don't think so. No." "Well, it's kind of hard for me to take them to a ball game, isn't it?" His schedule allowed him so little time this week to see the kids, so he offered to Pick them up on the weekend.Ann had had enough of life's troubles and was always happy to throw them into his care. "Ann? How's it going?" "You can't see them." He suppressed the anger in his heart, did not let it explode, and still discussed with her kindly. "Will you open the door so we can talk about it?" "There's nothing to talk about. Either you go away or I swear to God, Eric, I'm going to call the police." "Ann, let's not do this in front of the children. You just open the door." "No! You don't come in. I won't let a murderer take my child." Cries started and it sounded like it was coming from Amber, the second of three children.But the rest of the children followed her and started crying too.However, Anna's frightening roar made the children's cries suddenly quiet down. "Stop crying! Shut up, all of you! Stop now!" "Ann! Don't do this," Kenson pleaded outside the door. "Mommy!" his son Terry yelled hysterically, "I'm going out with Daddy! You can't stop me." "Oh, of course I can." There was the sound of something being slammed on the door. "My God, Ann! What are you doing?" There was more pounding.Then came Ann's roar. "Terry, go upstairs and do as I say! Girls, go upstairs too!" Kenson gripped the doorknob tightly with both hands, shaking the door. "Ann, let me in! Let me in now! Open the door!" She was herding them all upstairs, into their rooms.He stood on the front steps for a while longer, then ran down the steps, across the already overgrown driveway to the back of the house, and found the back door locked, too. However, unlike the front door, the upper grid of the back door is equipped with six small pieces of light-transmitting glass. Kenson wished the weather wasn't unseasonably warm, but cold for the time of year, and he was wearing a jacket so he could wrap his hands in it and smash the glass on the door, Go inside the house, except right now he's only wearing a golf t-shirt with a collar.Even so, he clenched his fist and planned to smash it down.There was only so much he could do, with or without gauntlets.But he immediately remembered a man who tried to do the same last year, but he slit his own artery and died of blood loss six minutes later.This moment of hesitation made his mind calm down again. He's already a murder suspect.Regardless of the reason, it is best not to force your way into your wife's apartment.It's just that the children might be in trouble—Ann's emotions are out of control, and although she has never hit them before, she may do anything now. He pulled out his cell phone and called 911 before running back to the front of the house.The line was connected, and he reported An's address and briefly described the situation. "I'm out of the house right now. I need some help." Back on the steps, he heard Ann upstairs still yelling at the children.A door inside the house was slammed shut.Finally, he heard her footsteps coming down the stairs inside.Now, she stood behind this door in front of him. "Eric," she said, "Eric, are you still there?" He kept his mouth shut and didn't make a sound.He pressed himself against the wall, crouching under the ledge of the doorstep.He knew she wouldn't see him even if she craned her neck out the front window.He held his breath and stayed there motionless, he could clearly hear his beating heartbeat.From a distance, he heard intermittent cries like the legendary siren's. Then he heard the lock turn, and saw the handle move.He leapt up to grab it and twisted it quickly, then put his shoulder against the door, knocking her backwards.Ann screamed loudly. But she didn't fall. Instead, she steadied herself and lunged hard at him. "Get out of here! Get out of my house!" He grabbed her arm, but she kept kicking him, feet raining down on his legs, on his stomach.Her constant kicking and beating made him a little overwhelmed, and she loosened her hand, and she took the opportunity to break free with one hand and slapped him in the face.He felt something hot run down his face after the blow and knew she had cut his face.He raised his hand to touch his face and saw the blood on his hand. "My God!" he said. "Papa! Mama!" cried the children upstairs. "Don't bark!" An screamed, "Stay there, don't come down!" She didn't even turn her head when she said these words, but pushed towards him again.She kept closing, pushing him back to the door, and then to the doorstep.She started kicking at his lower abdomen again, her feet and feet didn't miss the ground, and she kicked his body sideways.When she couldn't kick his lower abdomen, she tried her best to reach out and rush forward to grab his face. He stepped back defensively while blocking her attack with his hands.Her forward movement immediately brought her close to him, her feet landed on the wet newspaper scattered on the ground, she slipped and fell to the ground, with a painful cry from her mouth.She couldn't hold back, and knocked her head on the concrete floor.She rolled all the way down the doorstep to the sidewalk below, and lay there motionless. Kenson saw the children looking up in horror as they ran down the stairs.A police car with its siren blaring, roared like lightning, and stopped by the side of the road with a sudden brake.Just then, they ran up to her and knelt in a circle.Two patrolmen got out of the car with guns pointed at Kenson. "Don't move! Hands up!" Grisky and Treya slept in and stayed up late.They all thought that today was really a perfect day, very suitable for going out for a walk, so on a whim they decided to drive to Dillon Beach, forty miles north of the city, to relax.On the way to the beach, they detoured to Hog Island, where they spent an hour or so eating a feast of oysters in every way they could think of—raw, coated with three oysters. Different sauces are baked on a hook, served with bread crumbs, fried with sour pickle sauce.Not only that, but what made them feel more satisfied and refreshed was that they walked a long way north along the coast, meandering on the narrow "Z"-shaped single lane, walking down this road, passing through Past the grocery farms, the groves of redwoods and eucalyptus, the settlements that have remained unchanged and seemed forgotten in western Marin County. Compared with other places in the Greater Bay Area, it is indeed a world of difference.It is especially strange that, in the minds of some, its revered status is similar to that of Sausalito sanctuary to the artful but skilled literary traveler, and Mill Valley to the noble and fashionable Yuppies.On the Tamalpais side, there are five or six centuries-old buildings on the main street, which are actually houses with wedge-shaped roofs. The only things that can show signs of life here are those There are twenty or so Harley motorcycles parked outside the only salon and bar here.Wherever there are so many of these things, there's always a salon.Driving along this road, every few miles they would see handmade sales advertising signs nailed to the trunks of the old oak trees by the roadside, selling live chickens, live pigs, Live sheep, as well as selling fresh eggs and milk. Most of the things here look run-down, and Grisky had been here a few times before, but the weather was so foggy and windy all year round that it almost looked like It is an uninhabitable place, a veritable ruin.But today, in the warm sunshine—the temperature would be eighty degrees on the beach before they turned back home—the precarious and dilapidated landscape seemed deliberately artificial. Like the careful preparation, he radiated a charm that had never been shown to outsiders, and suddenly shocked his soul.Many hippies born in the 1960s, and the beat and decadent generations born in the 1970s and 1980s moved here and took root here. They are unwilling to change its original appearance, and they don’t want to see Brand new cars and man-made high-rises, but at a slower pace and rhythm, tolerate the arrival of neighbors and accept the attitude of enjoying private space-these people know nothing about life, they do not live in the real world inside. On this beach today, he's watching an elderly hippie, whom he usually refers to as an "old pedant."This is a man about his age, probably in his early fifties, who is braiding flowers into a little girl's hair.Griski found himself almost envious of the simple, modest life he enjoyed.The woman he was with—the girl's mother? ——Also an "old pedant".Her hair fell loosely, covering half of her back.She didn't take care of it deliberately, but let it show its natural gray and white color.She plucks a guitar with her fingers, and when she remembers the words, she sings a little Joni Michele song with ease.From the police point of view, Griskey thought, it was possible that they were both in the ecstasy of doping, but maybe not.Perhaps just like him and Treya, they came out today just to enjoy the greatest happiness in this world. "Exchange your thoughts at the moment with a piece of chocolate biscuit." She sat holding his arm, shielding him from the sun with her body.He stretched out, lying on his side on the blanket they had spread on the warm sand. "Bring the biscuit first." He snapped the whole biscuit into his mouth and chewed it, "Thank you." "Now it's your turn to say what you think," she said. "It's a deal." "You don't want to hear my thoughts. Those are thoughts that sound scary." "Do you still have terrible thoughts here?" "I love everything here, I'm completely intoxicated by it, and that's what's scary about it." "Are comfort and happiness things to be afraid of?" "They don't last, and you don't want to indulge in ease." "No, absolutely not," she put out a hand to stroke his arm, "of course, forget about the pretty good journey you and I have been on these past few months." He put one of his hands on hers. "I never forgot. I don't mean ourselves." "Okay. Since I didn't intend for this to last, Shun's afraid it's only for a little while." "Just a little while. I'll agree." "At least, it should be another nineteen years." "What nineteen?" Griski stopped talking, looked at her and asked. "Nineteen years," she said with deep apprehension.Because of the nineteen-year age gap between them, before they got married, they disagreed about whether they should have a child of their own, and they almost parted ways.Griski had told her he had given up thinking about it long ago. It was one of the toughest things she'd ever dealt with, but Treya told him that if that was a problem, they'd have to say goodbye and never see each other again.She didn't want to use this to get him or to hang on to him in an imposing way.If parenthood again wasn't something he wanted to go through, she totally understood.He's still a nice guy, and she loves him, but she knows who she is and what she wants. Sometimes Griski had grudgingly accepted her decisions, and his own, and then one day he woke up and realized that he had changed his mind.In his life, her presence was more important than anything else.He couldn't lose her—nothing could make such a separation happen. But now, that once seemingly distant day has come before us.Treya was biting her lip nervously, wondering if her husband would accept this reality. "I don't think kids have a good chance of growing up if they're born into a family where the parents don't get along well, so I think we should really keep it that way, at least until the kids get out of the house and live on their own. Think about having our own child again, don't you think so?" She tried to make herself smile, holding one of his hands tightly with both hands, meeting his eyes and looking at him, " I was going to tell you this when we got home last night, but your agents were there and it was too late when they left..." Her voice, trembling with timidity, became It became weaker and weaker, and stopped before the words were finished. He met her eyes and stared at her for a while, his expression gradually became gentle, showing a little puzzled look. "Why do you think that's going to take us so long?" He took her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "That's no excuse for not trying."