awkwardly fingered the clean cotton of his gown. “Where’s my jacket?”
he screamed. “Who took away my jacket?” He started to shake and his
lower lip protruded, like a toddler’s when he’s about to start bawling.
He clumsily removed the blanket.
Max took a deep breath and exhaled slowly again. Without say-
ing anything, he watched the man in the bed before him. Thinking of
nothing, he felt himself becoming completely calm. He was breathing
regularly and continued just being there and looking at the man.
Niels Hinrichsen slowly calmed down. He started to sob quietly
and dropped his head. His entire gaunt, naked body was still trem-
bling. Exhausted, he fell back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Just as 160
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Max was covering him with the blanket again, the door was flung open and an orderly and a nurse stormed in.
“What’s going on here?” the orderly asked. Startled, Niels
Hinrichsen opened his eyes and suddenly began to scream at the top
of his lungs. He jumped up and wildly flailed his arms. Max just barely avoided being hit. When the orderly tried to grab his arm, Hinrichsen screamed even louder, without ever articulating anything specific.
“What have you done to him?” the nurse asked irately. He just
raised his hands.
“I—”
“Are you a relative?” the nurse demanded.
“No, but—”
“Then be quiet and leave at once. What in the world do you think
you’re doing here?”
Another man, apparently a doctor, and another nurse hurriedly
entered the room. Max was pushed aside as all four focused on
Hinrichsen, who resisted with all his might and violently thrashed
around. Max stood there, feeling helpless. His strength was tranquility, but there was nothing he could do against this onslaught. He saw the doctor give the raging man an injection. Hinrichsen went limp and
collapsed. The screaming turned into wailing and then into desperate whining, which again reminded Max of a child. Finally he fell asleep.
The sudden quiet was deafening. Everyone straightened up slowly and
smoothed their clothes and hair.
“You’re still here?” said the first nurse, who, Max could now tell by reading her name tag, was actually a doctor. “What did you think you were doing? You . . .”
“That’s all right, Rita. I’ll take care of it,” the other doctor said. The nurse and the orderly disappeared quietly, while the doctor stopped for a moment in front of Max, clearly enraged, her lips pressed together, before she hurried away.
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The other doctor inhaled audibly, wiped his face with a sleeve of
his coat, and nodded at Max without smiling. “Dr. Schubert. I admit-
ted the patient this morning and stitched his wound.” He was tall and had thick blond hair and blue eyes. He was pale and looked tired, as if he’d been working a longer shift than was good for him or his patients.
“Are you a relative?”
Max shook his head. “No.” He introduced himself. “I’m investigat-
ing a murder. Herr Hinrichsen is an important witness.”
The physician glanced at the sleeping man. “Is he? You’ll have your
hands full with him.” He yawned, covering his mouth. “Do you know
whether there are relatives, or a caregiver?”
“No idea.” Max also looked at Niels Hinrichsen’s relaxed face.
“What going to happen to him now?”
“He’ll sleep, first of all.” The physician checked his watch. “Until at least tomorrow morning. Then we’ll see what we can do.”
“But as far as his injuries are concerned . . .”
Dr. Schubert waved it aside. “A cut like this is a piece of cake. It bleeds like hell but is harmless as long as it’s treated and doesn’t get infected. If it were just that, he could go home today.”
Max could hear the “but” that the doctor left out. The physician
glanced at the patient again. “You’ve seen it yourself. I wouldn’t have felt right if I just let him go home like that.”
Max was thinking of something else. “What did you do with his
clothes?”
The doctor was about to shrug but then apparently remembered
something. He went to the narrow locker next to the sink, opened it, and pointed to a green plastic bag. The odor of a used-up life drifted toward Max.
“I have to take this along,” he explained. “For the forensics team.”
When the doctor frowned, he added, “I will obviously give you a
receipt for it.”
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The doctor shrugged. “Do what you’ve got to do. But you might
want to bring him some replacement clothes.” He yawned again.
Max felt sorry for him. Even though he pretended not to be inter-
ested in his patients, it was quite obvious that he’d have liked to spend more time with them than his schedule allowed. Max nodded and