Chương 5
Park watched his face.
“The discovery today matters,” she said.
“Not enough.”
“No. Probably not enough for what you want.”
“What do I want?”
“You tell me.”
He looked away.
For fourteen months people had asked how they could help, what he needed, what his goals were. He had perfected useless answers.
Independence.
Function.
Pain control.
He had stopped saying walk because the word made everyone sad.
Now he said it.
“I want to walk.”
Park nodded.
She did not tell him he would.
That was why he trusted her.
Naomi called Harrison that night rather than Adrian.
Lucy had given a formal interview with a child specialist present. She had repeated the same account, including the phone conversation. Naomi wanted to know whether they could go home.
Harrison said he did not know.
Adrian heard the call from his bed.
When Harrison hung up, Adrian said, “Put them in a hotel.”
“No.”
Adrian frowned.
“No?”
“You will not relocate a frightened mother and child by issuing orders through your staff.”
“I was going to pay.”
“That is not the part I objected to.”
Adrian stared at the ceiling.
“I’m trying to keep them safe.”
“Then ask.”
Adrian reached for his phone.
Naomi answered after four rings.
“Mr. Vale.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Several things.”
“That narrows it down.”
He heard traffic behind her.
Adrian almost smiled.
“For speaking to you like an employee this morning. And for the fact that Lucy was put in this position in my house.”
Silence.
Then Naomi said, “She thinks she did something wrong.”
“She didn’t.”
“She poured ice water on a disabled man.”
“That part was unconventional.”
Naomi made a tired sound that might have been laughter.
“She said you didn’t mind.”
“I minded very much.”
“Oh.”
“She should still know she did the right thing.”
Another pause.
Adrian said, “The police may need both of you available tomorrow. I’d like to cover a hotel, transportation, whatever you need. Not as your employer. Not in exchange for anything.”
“I’m not signing anything.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“I don’t want your lawyers talking to her alone.”
“They won’t.”
“How do I know that?”
“You don’t.”
The honesty surprised both of them.
Adrian looked at his useless left foot under the hospital blanket.
“You don’t know me,” he said. “And apparently I don’t know some of the people who work for me. Keep your own lawyer if that makes you comfortable. I’ll pay that too, if your lawyer agrees the arrangement doesn’t create a conflict.”
Naomi was quiet for a long time.
“Why?”
“Because Lucy got dragged into an adult mess.”
“No. Why are you being reasonable now?”
Adrian let out a breath.
“I’ve had a difficult day.”
This time she laughed.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Send the hotel information. I’ll look at it.”
After the call, Harrison said, “That almost sounded human.”
Adrian threw a plastic water cup at him.
It missed by three feet.
Harrison picked it up.
“Motor function in the arms appears intact.”
The next morning Adrian woke before five.
Hospitals had a way of making sleep feel borrowed. Doors opened. Wheels squeaked. Somebody laughed at a nurses’ station. An alarm chirped for twenty seconds in another room and then stopped.
Adrian lay still.
His right foot tingled.
He waited for excitement.
Instead he felt nauseated.
He pressed the call button and asked for Dr. Park.
The nurse told him she would not be in until seven.
He said that was fine.
At five twenty, he pressed it again.
The same nurse came in.
“You changed your mind about fine?”
“Yes.”
She folded her arms.
“Is something wrong?”
“My foot is tingling.”
“Pain?”
“No.”
“Numbness?”
“Yes.”
She waited.
He became irritated.
“I realize that sounds stupid.”
“It sounds like your foot feels different.”
“I’ve spent a year being told sensations weren’t reliable.”
“Then it makes sense that you don’t trust this one.”
The nurse checked his circulation and documented what he reported.
Before leaving, she asked, “Need anything else?”
Adrian looked at the television remote, water pitcher, untouched crackers, and his phone.
“No.”
She reached the door.
“Actually.”
She turned.
“Could you move the curtain?”
“Open or closed?”
“Open.”
She pulled it aside.
Dawn had begun coloring the buildings across the avenue.
Nothing about the view was beautiful.
Concrete roof. Air-conditioning units. A billboard facing the wrong direction.
Adrian watched anyway.
At seven thirty, Park repeated the examination.
The anesthetic concentration in his blood had fallen.
His cold sensation improved.
So did his pressure detection.
He managed two small voluntary movements in the right toes and one at the ankle.
Park sat back.
“That’s new.”
Adrian stared at his foot.
“Say it again.”
“That’s new.”
“No. Say what it means.”
“It means there is more motor function today than yesterday.”
He gripped the table.
“Can I walk?”
She sighed.
“You are going to ask me that every day.”
“Yes.”
“I still don’t know.”
He laughed.
It came out rough, but this time it was real.
The police arrested nobody that morning.
Adrian expected them to.
He expected the world to accelerate now that he had proof of something wrong.
Instead Cho explained warrants, records requests, laboratory confirmation, interviews, and jurisdiction.
“You have a seven-year-old witness, a disputed medical order, preliminary toxicology, and a caregiver who has stopped speaking without counsel,” she said. “That’s serious. Serious is not the same as simple.”
Adrian disliked her more every hour.
He trusted her more too.
His own investigators were worse.
By noon his head of security had produced lists of employee badge swipes, network logins, visitors, camera outages, and delivery records.
Adrian wanted all of it.
Cho wanted him to stop touching it.
“You have a private security apparatus with administrator access to your home systems,” she said. “That makes chain of custody a nightmare.”
“I’m trying to find out who did this.”
“So are we.”
“You’re slower.”
“Yes.”
May you like
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“It keeps me from arresting the wrong person because a billionaire is impatient.”
