iancaldwell&dustinthomason.theruleoffour-第55部分

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e　two　officers；　with　two　other　policemen　behind　them　now；　all　watching　as　the　ambulance　team　drags　me　above　ground。
　The　last　thing　I　remember　is　the　look　on　the　proctor's　face　as　he　stands　there；　watching　me　rise　from　the　darkness；　bloody　from　my　face　to　the　tips　of　my　fingers。　At　first　he　looks　relieved；　to　see　me　stumble　out　of　the　wreckage。　Then　his　expression　changes；　and　the　relief　disappears　from　his　eyes；　as　he　realizes　the　blood　isn't　mine。
　
　Chapter　20
　
　I　e　to　my　senses　in　a　bed　at　Princeton　Medical　Center　several　hours　after　the　accident。　Paul　is　sitting　beside　me；　glad　to　see　me　awake；　and　a　policeman　is　standing　outside　the　door。　Someone　has　changed　me　into　a　paper　gown　that　crunches　like　a　diaper　when　I　sit　up。　There　is　blood　beneath　my　fingernails；　dark　as　dirt；　and　there's　a　familiar　smell　in　the　air；　something　I　remember　from　my　old　hospital　past。　The　smell　of　sickness　mopped　over　with　disinfectant。　The　smell　of　medicine。
　〃Tom？〃　Paul　says。
　I　prop　myself　up　to　face　him；　but　pain　shoots　through　my　arm。
　〃Careful；〃　he　says；　leaning　over。　〃The　doctor　says　you　injured　your　shoulder。〃
　Now；　as　I'm　being　more　aware；　I　can　feel　pain　beneath　the　bandage。　〃What　happened　to　you　down　there？〃
　〃It　was　stupid。　I　just　reacted。　I　couldn't　get　back　to　Charlie　once　the　pipe　exploded。　All　of　the　steam　was　ing　in　my　direction。　I　came　back　through　the　nearest　exit　and　the　police　drove　me　here。〃
　〃Where's　Charlie？〃
　〃In　the　emergency　room。　They　won't　let　anyone　see　him。〃
　His　voice　has　gone　flat。　After　rubbing　at　his　eye；　he　glances　out　the　door。　An　old　woman　skids　past　in　a　wheelchair；　nimble　as　a　kid　in　a　go…cart。　The　cop　watches　her；　but　doesn't　smile。　There's　a　little　yellow　sandwich　board　on　the　tile　floor　that　says　CAUTION：　WET　SURFACE。
　〃Is　he　okay？〃　I　ask。
　Paul　keeps　his　eyes　on　the　door。　〃I　don't　know。　Will　said　he　was　right　beside　the　broken　pipe　when　they　found　him。〃
　〃Will？〃
　〃Will　Clay；　Charlie's　friend。〃　Paul　places　a　hand　on　the　rail　of　the　bed。　〃He　pulled　you　out。〃
　I　try　to　think　back；　but　all　I　remember　are　silhouettes　in　the　tunnels；　lit　up　around　the　edges　by　flashlights。
　〃He　and　Charlie　switched　shifts　when　you　guys　went　looking　for　me；〃　Paul　adds。
　There's　a　great　sadness　in　his　voice。　He　traces　this　all　back　to　himself。
　〃Do　you　want　me　to　call　Katie　and　tell　her　you're　here？〃　he　asks。
　I　shake　my　head；　wanting　to　feel　more　grounded　first。　〃I'll　call　her　later。〃
　The　old　woman　rolls　past　a　second　time；　and　now　I　spot　the　cast　on　her　left　leg；　running　from　her　knee　to　her　toes。　Her　hair　is　mussed；　and　her　pants　are　rolled　up　above　the　knee；　but　there's　a　twinkle　in　her　eyes；　and　she　gives　the　officer　a　defiant　smile　when　she　passes　by；　as　if　it's　a　law　she's　broken；　rather　than　a　bone。　Charlie　told　me　once　that　geriatric　patients　are　relieved　sometimes　to　take　a　little　fall；　or　have　a　minor　illness。　Losing　a　battle　reminds　them　that　they're　still　winning　the　war。　I　am　struck　suddenly　by　Charlie's　absence；　by　the　emptiness　where　I　expect　to　hear　his　voice。
　〃He　must've　lost　a　lot　of　blood；〃　I　say。
　Paul　looks　at　his　hands。　In　the　silence；　I　can　hear　wheezing　across　the　partition　between　my　bed　and　the　next。　Just　then；　a　doctor　enters　the　room。　The　officer　at　the　door　touches　the　elbow　of　her　white　lab　coat；　and　when　she　stops；　the　two　of　them　exchange　quiet　words。
　〃Thomas？〃　she　says；　ing　to　the　bedside　with　a　clipboard　and　a　frown。
　〃Yes？〃
　〃I'm　Dr。　Jansen。〃　She　walks　to　the　opposite　side　of　the　bed　to　examine　my　arm。　〃How　are　you　feeling？〃
　〃Fine。　How's　Charlie　doing？〃
　She　prods　my　shoulder　a　little；　just　enough　to　make　me　squirm。　〃I　don't　know。　He's　been　in　the　ER　since　he　got　here。〃
　I'm　not　clearheaded　enough　to　know　what　it　means　that　she　recognizes　Charlie　by　his　first　name。
　〃Will　he　be　okay？〃
　〃It's　too　early　to　tell；〃　she　says；　without　looking　up。
　〃When　can　we　see　him？〃　Paul　asks。
　〃One　thing　at　a　time；〃　she　says；　placing　a　hand　between　my　back　and　the　pillow；　then　raising　me　up。　〃How　does　this　feel？〃
　〃Fine。〃
　〃And　this？〃
　She　presses　two　fingers　over　my　collarbone。
　〃Fine。〃
　The　poking　continues　across　my　back；　elbow；　wrist；　and　head。　She　tries　the　stethoscope　for　good　measure；　then　finally　sits　back。　Doctors　are　like　gamblers；　always　looking　for　the　right　binations。　Patients　are　like　slot　machines：　twist　their　arms　long　enough　and　you're　bound　to　hit　the　jackpot。
　〃You're　lucky　it　wasn't　worse；〃　she　says。　〃There's　no　fracture；　but　the　soft　tissue　is　bruised。　You'll　feel　it　when　the　painkiller　wears　off。　Ice　it　twice　a　day　for　a　week；　then　you'll　have　to　e　back　so　we　can　take　another　look。〃
　She　has　an　earthy　smell　to　her；　like　sweat　and　soap。　I　wait　for　her　to　pull　out　a　prescription　pad；　remembering　the　cabinet　of　drugs　I　collected　after　the　car　accident；　but　she　doesn't。
　〃There's　someone　outside　who'd　like　to　talk　to　you；〃　she　tells　me　instead。
　For　a　second；　because　she　says　it　so　pleasantly；　I　imagine　a　friend　out　in　the　hall…Gil　maybe；　returned　from　the　eating　clubs；　or　even　my　mother；　flown　in　from　Ohio。　Suddenly；　I'm　unsure　how　much　time　has　passed　since　they　dragged　me　out　of　the　ground。
　But　a　different　face　appears　in　the　doorway；　one　I've　never　seen　before。　Another　woman；　but　not　a　doctor；　and　definitely　not　my　mother。　She's　heavyset　and　short；　tucked　into　a　round　black　skirt　down　to　her　calves；　and　opaque　black　stockings。　A　white　blouse　and　red　suit…jacket　give　her　a　maternal　air；　but　my　first　thought　is　that　she's　a　university　administrator。
　The　doctor　and　the　woman　exchange　a　look；　then　switch　places；　one　leaving　as　the　other　es。　The　black…stockinged　woman　stops　short　of　the　bed　and　makes　a　gesture　to　Paul；　beckoning　him　over。　They　have　a　conversation　out　of　earshot…then；　unexpectedly；　he　asks　if　I'm　okay；　waits　for　me　to　nod；　and　walks　out　with　another　man　standing　near　the　door。
　〃Officer；〃　the　woman　says；　〃would　you　close　that　behind　you？〃
　To　my　surprise　he　nods　and　shuts　the　door；　leaving　us　alone。
　The　woman　waddles　over　to　the　bedside；　pausing　to　glance　at　the　bed　beyond　the　curtain。
　〃How　are　you　feeling；　Tom？〃　She　sits　down　in　the　chair　where　Paul　was；　making　it　disappear。　She　has　squirrelly　cheeks。　When　she　talks；　they　seem　full　of　nuts。
　〃Not　so　good；〃　I　say　warily。　I　tilt　my　right　side　toward　her；　showing　her　the　bandage。
　〃Can　I　get　you　anything？〃
　〃No；　thanks。〃
　〃My　son　was　here　last　month；〃　she　says　absently；　searching　for　something　in　her　jacket　pocket。　〃Appendectomy。〃
　I'm　just　about　to　ask　who　she　is；　when　she　pulls　a　little　leather　wallet　out　of　her　breast　pocket。　〃Tom；　I'm　Detective　Gwynn。　I'd　like　to　talk　to　you　about　what　happened　today。〃
　She　unfolds　the　wallet　to　show　me　her　badge；　then　flips　it　back　in　her　pocket。
　〃Where's　Paul？〃
　〃Speaking　with　Detective　Martin。　I'd　like　to　ask　you　some　questions　about　William　Stein。　Do　you　know　who　he　was？〃
　〃He　died　last　night。〃
　〃He　was　killed。〃　She　lets　a　silence　punctuate　the　last　word。　〃Did　any　of　your　roommates　know　him？〃
　〃Paul　did。　They　worked　together　at　the　Institute　for　Advanced　Study。〃
　She　pulls　a　steno　pad　from　her　jacket　pocket。　〃Do　you　know　Vincent　Taft？〃
　〃Sort　of；〃　I　say；　sensing　something　bigger　on　the　horizon。
　〃Did　you　go　to　his　office　earlier　today？〃
　Pressure　is　building　in　my　temples。　〃Why？〃
　〃Did　you　get　into　a　fight　with　him？〃
　〃I　wouldn't　call　it　a　fight。〃
　She　makes　a　note。
　〃Were　you　and　your　roommate　in　the　museum　last　night？〃　she　asks；　rummaging　through　a　file　in　her　hand。
　The　question　seems　to　have　a　thousand　outes。　I　think　back。　Paul　covered　his　hands　with　his　shirt　cuffs　when　he　touched　Stein's　letters。　No　one　could've　seen　our　faces　in　the　dark。
　〃No。〃
　The　detective　rolls　her　lips；　the　way　some　women　even　their　lipstick。　I　can't　read　her　body　language。　Finally；　she　produces　a　sheet　of　paper　from　the　folder　and　passes　it　to　me。　It's　a　photocopy　of　the　log…in　sheet　Paul　and　I　signed　for　the　museum　guard。　The　date　and　time　are　stamped　beside　each　entry。
　〃How　did　you　get　into　the　museum　library？〃
　〃Paul　had　the　punch　code；〃　I　say；　giving　up。　〃He　got　it　from　Bill　Stein。〃
　〃Stein's　desk　was　part　of　our　crime　scene。　What　were　you　looking　for？〃