Chapter 26 25

Where do you park your car, Wes?I asked, at which point we left the roof and went down the stairs. Not in this parking lot, Pat.I believe your car is on the sixth floor. We came to the stairwell on the sixth floor.Wesley stepped back from me.I face the door. your floor.He said. right. Do you want to follow me? Yes, I did, Wes. He nodded, stroked his chin, and his body suddenly moved at an explosive speed.He kicked me in the jaw with one of his boat shoes and I fell backwards into the parking lot. I hurriedly got up between the two cars, reached out and took the gun out of the holster, turned to him, and he jumped all over again.It felt like I had been punched and kicked six times by him in about four seconds; my gun had slid far and gone under a car.

You were able to search me on the roof just now because I asked you to search, Pat. I tried to get up on my feet and knees, and he kicked me hard in the stomach. You are still alive now because I let you live.But, don't know yeah maybe I'm going to have a change of heart. He kicked me again.Out of the corner of my eye I saw his ankle jerk, the foot off the ground, and then I got a kick in the ribs and I grabbed his ankle. I heard the sound of a car approaching from the fifth floor. It was driving over a slope and going up another slope. The old muffler was making a loud noise, and Weasley heard it too.

His free foot kicked me in the chest and I let go of his ankle. The headlights swept across the wall at the bottom of the ramp. See you next time, Pat. His footsteps clanged away on the metal steps and I tried to get up but my body decided to roll over and lie on my back as the approaching car screeched to a halt. Jesus, said a woman and jumped out of the passenger seat, oh my god. A man also came around from the driver's seat and put his hand on the hood.Dude, are you okay? As the woman's footsteps approached, I raised my index finger.wait for me, ok?I took out my cell phone and dialed An Qi's cell phone number.

Hello? He could walk out of the parking lot at any moment.did you see him What?No.Wait a moment.He came out.Someone behind her honked the horn. Near him, can you see a black Ford Mustang? Yes, he is walking towards the car. Copy down the license plate number, Angie. good.Your Majesty, get it done. I hung up the phone and looked up at the couple above me.They were all wearing black Metallica T-shirts. I said, Metalwork is playing a concert at Fleet Center today? Oh, yes. I thought they disbanded. No.The man's face paled, as if I had just predicted a vision from the Book of Revelation.No, no, no.

I put the phone back in my pocket and held up both hands.do me a favor They walked up to me, took their positions, and each grabbed my hand. Lighten up.I said. They pulled me to my feet, and the parking lot in front of me tilted up and down several times, and the lights were a blur in my mind.I feel my ribs, then my upper chest and shoulders, and finally my jaw.It doesn't appear to be broken.But everything hurts, really hurts. Want to call the guard?said the man. I leaned back against a parked car and checked my teeth with my tongue.No, it's fine.But you better stay away. Why?

Because I'm about to throw up. They left almost as fast as Weasley. I'll sum it up, Baba said, wiping my bruised forehead with rubbing alcohol, you've been picked up by a guy who looks like Niles.The Crane guys beat the shit out of them. ①Niles.Niles Crane (Niles Crane) is the character name of the younger brother of the protagonist of the series "Frasier", a thin, bookish psychologist. Um.I barely opened my mouth, a pack of ice packs the size of an American football pressed against my swollen jaw. I don't know, Baba said to Angie, can we hang out with him again?

Angie looked up from the picture, she had just gone to the quick print shop to get Weasley's picture developed, while Baba was at home checking me for any broken bones or sprains, putting tape on my bruised ribs , to clean cuts and abrasions from the parking lot floor and Wesley's right hand ring.No matter how smart or stupid you call Baba, he's a really good medic, and his medical supplies are even better. Angie smiled.You are becoming more and more a burden to us. Ha, I said, you have a nice haircut. An Qi stroked the sides of her head, and her face sank. The wireless phone at her elbow rang and she answered it.

Hey Devon.She said after a few seconds.ah?She looks at me.His chin looks like a pink grapefruit, but other than that, I think he's fine.ah?certainly.She puts the phone down.Devon wanted to know, when did you become so delicate. Damn that kid knows kung fu, I said through gritted teeth, or judo, those damn mid-air kicks that would knock your head off. She rolled her eyes.what is that?she said into the phone.Ah good.Come back and say to me, Devon asked why you didn't shoot him? good question.Baba said. I tried.I said. He tried.She told Devon.She listened to the phone, nodded, and said to me again, Devon said, what about next time?Try a little harder.

I gave her a wry smile. He will think carefully about your suggestion.She told Devon.What about the license plate?she listens.ok, thanks.Yes, we have to hurry.OK, bye. She hangs up.The number plate was stolen from a Ford Mercury Cougar last night. last night.I said. She nodded.In my opinion, our Wesleys had planned in advance against all possibilities. He can also kick high, like a showgirl!Baba said. I leaned back in the chair and gestured to them with one hand to let the horse come over.Let's just settle the bill.Tell all the jokes at once.bring it on. What are you kidding?Angie said.Don't think about it.

For months, Baba said, we can tease you about this for months. Baba's friend at the state tax office was indicted on multiple counts of fraud last year, so there was no way to find out, but Angie finally got a call from her IRS acquaintance, and started taking notes as she listened, and then Repeatedly, um, yes, um, yes.Meanwhile I continued to ice my chin while Baba spooned paprika into a batch of empty bullets. Stop doing that.I said. how?I'm bored. You are often bored recently. Well, because my companions bore me. Angie hung up the phone, looked up and smiled at me.Got him.

Wesley? She nodded.He started paying taxes in 1984 until he disappeared in 1989. All right. And even better.Guess where he works? Can not guess. Baba proceeded to scoop the paprika into a metal slug.Hospital. Angie threw the pen at his head.You stole my lines again. I got it, don't do it.Baba frowned, rubbed his head, and went back to processing his bullets. Psychiatric hospital?I said. Angie nodded.Exactly.He spent a summer at Macleans Hospital.A year at Brigham and Women's Hospital.Massachusetts General Hospital for one year.Beth Israel Medical Center for six months.Apparently he wasn't very good at work, but his dad kept finding jobs for him. What department? Baba raised his head, opened his mouth, saw An Qi glaring at him, and lowered his head again. The nursing department, Angie said, and then the records department. I sat at the table, looking down at the notes I had copied from the City Hall archives.Where did he work in 1989? Angie glanced at her notes.Brigham and Women's Hospital.archives department. I nodded and held up my notes for her to see. Naomi.Daow, she read, was born on December 11, 1985, at the Brigham and Women's Hospital.Died November 17, 1989 at Brigham and Women's Hospital. I put down my notes and stand up, walking towards the kitchen. where are you going? Make a call. Who to call? ex-girlfriend.I said. We were working hard, Baba said, and all he could think about was wild food. Me and Grace.Gao met on Francis Street in Brookline, in the middle of the Longwood Hospital district.The rain had stopped and we walked down Francis Street, across Brookline Avenue, and down to the river. You look bad, she said, tilting her head to look at my chin. I think you're still doing your old job. You look fine.I said. she smiles.The mouth is still so sweet. Just tell the truth.How is Mel? Mel is Grace's daughter, and three years ago, the violence in my life forced them to leave their home for protective placement with the FBI, nearly interrupting Grace's surgeon residency and nearly ruining our relationship. relationship.Mel was smart and pretty and loved watching Marx Brothers comedies with me.Every time I think of her, it always makes my heart ache. she's fine.Now in second grade, going very well.She likes math and hates boys.I saw you on TV last year when two guys were killed near the Quincy quarry.There is a large group of people in the shot. Um. The willows by the riverside path dripped, and the river was a gray chrome after the dim rain. Or do you often deal with dangerous people?Grace pointed to my chin, and the scrape on my forehead. I?no more.It fell in the shower. Your bathtub is full of rocks? I smile and shake my head. We give way to two joggers, their legs twitching, their cheeks bulging, and the air around them wild. Our elbows touched as we stepped back, and Grace said, I've taken a job in Houston and I'm leaving in two weeks. houston.I said. have you been there? I nod.Big, I say, hot and industrial. Medical technology is very advanced.Grace said. Congratulations, I say, and I mean it. Grace bit her lower lip, watching the cars speeding by on the slippery road.I almost called you, a thousand times. Why not fight? She shrugged slightly at me, her eyes still looking at the road.I think it's because of the TV news footage of you approaching the dead body in the quarry. I followed her gaze to the road, because I really had nothing to say. Is there a partner? Not counting. She looked into my eyes and smiled.But you hold out hope? Yes, I am hopeful.I said.And you? She looked back at the hospital.Yes, a fellow physician.Don't know what effect going to Houston will have.The price paid was great. How to say? She raised one finger to the road, then lowered it again.Ah, you know, keeping a career, keeping a relationship, and questioning your choices over and over again.And then one day your future is sealed, you know?You have made various decisions.For better or worse, this is your life. Grace is in Houston.Grace leaves Boston.I haven't been in touch with her for almost three years, but somehow it's reassuring to know that she's close to me.In another month, she will not be in this city.I don't know if the feeling of lack is like a small hole in the cityscape. Grace reached into her bag.What you want is here.I can't see anything wrong.The little girl was drowned.The water in her lungs matched the water in the pond.She was sent here after falling into the icy water, and the time of death was also suitable for her age. Did she die at home? She shook her head.In the operating room.Her father revived her at the scene of the accident and restored her heartbeat.But it was too late. do you know him? Christopher.Dou?She shook her head.Only heard the name. How is the reputation? Very clever surgeon, weirdo.She handed me the manila envelope and looked down at the river, then at the street.Well, well, well, I have to go.Nice to meet you. Let me walk you back to the hospital. She put one hand on my chest.Don't compare. I looked into her eyes and saw remorse, and perhaps some serious anxiety about an uncertain future, as if the towering buildings behind us were looming. We loved each other, didn't we?she says. Yes, indeed. What a pity, isn't it? I stood by the river and watched her walk toward the light in her blue surgical gown and white doctor's gown, her ash-blonde hair still flying in the damp air. I loved Angie.Probably always loved.But a part of me still loved Grace.high.Some ghost of mine is still alive in the old days, sharing a bed with Grace, talking about the future.But the love we had and the selves we had are gone, put into a box, like old photos and old letters you never look at again. She disappeared into the crowds and buildings of the hospital district, and I found myself agreeing with her.What a pity.What a fucking shame. When I got back to the apartment, Baba had already put the bullets into the white box stacked next to his chair.At the moment he and Angie are playing army chess at the dinner table, drinking vodka together, and Marty Stanley is playing on the stereo.Blues by Muddy Waters. Baba is good at few games.He often gets confused and ends up turning the board off, but it's really hard to beat him at Army Chess.It must be because of those bombs inside.He'll drop bombs where you least expect them, then engage in a full-blown suicide attack with his scouts.His baby face was full of joy as he faced death. I waited for Baba to defeat Angie while studying Naomi.Daoou's admission, birth, and death forms did not find any abnormalities at all. cried Baba, Ha!Now take me to your daughter.Then An Qi swept the chessboard with her hand and swept a pile of chess pieces to the ground. Ouch, she really can't afford to lose. I'm competitive, Angie said, and bent over to pick up the chess piece, it's different. Baba rolled his eyes, then looked at the papers I had spread out on the table next to me.He got out of the chair, stretched, and looked over my shoulder.What are those? Hospital records.I said.The admission information of the mother when she went to give birth.And a daughter was born.Daughter died. He looked down at the forms.It doesn't make sense. Totally makes sense.Which word do you think you can't understand? He patted me on the back.How could she have two blood types? Angie on the other side of the table raised her head.What? Baba pointed down at Naomi's birth record, then at her death record.She was O-negative there. I looked at the death record.And this one is type B positive. Angie walked up to me.What are you two talking about? We pointed it out to her. What would this mean?I said. Baba snorted.There is only one meaning.The child who was born that day he poked the birth record with his finger is not the same as the child who died that day he poked the death record.Ouch, your brains are so slow sometimes.