13 Mink Street

Chapter 24: No Right



Chapter 24: No Right

A stench lingered in the air; the harsh and sharp scent of disinfectant. Each breath stung. Who was he? Zhou Xun... no. He was Karon.

Karon slowly opened his eyes. The sunlight was too fierce, so he closed them again. It took some time for his eyes to adjust, and only then did he try again. This time, he was able to make out white sheets, a white quilt, and the blue-and-white stripes of his hospital gown. Mina, his cousin, sat at the foot of the bed, pencil in hand, bent over her homework.

She must have sensed something, as she turned to glance his way. The moment she saw his eyes open, her hand flew to her mouth and tears spilled down her cheeks.

Without a word, Mina kicked her younger brother Lent, who sat near her, also doing homework. He fell out of his chair in surprise. “He’s awake! Lent, go find the doctor! Quick!”

“O-okay!” Lent abandoned his schoolbooks to rush out the door.

Mina leaned over the bed. “Brother, are you alright?”

Karon tried to speak, but his lips were so dry and rough that they felt they might crack with the slightest touch. “Water... water...”

Mina got him a cup and put in a straw, which she then carefully held to his mouth. Karon bit down on the straw and drank. When he was finished, Mina wiped his face with a damp towel.

The door opened. Lent returned, leading a doctor in. The doctor examined Karon, unwrapping the bandages around his chest to inspect the wound. Appearing satisfied, the doctor nodded slightly and smiled. “You’re in good shape, young man. The wound was deep, but your spleen wasn’t hit. You’re very lucky.”

Karon gave a slight nod.

The doctor quietly gave the nurse a few instructions regarding the bandages, and then told Karon, “Rest well. Now that you’ve awoken, we’ll observe you for a couple more days before you can go home.”

Mina thanked the doctor for Karon. The doctor nodded and left with the nurse.

Karon shifted his arms to try to sit up. Mina and Lent each moved to steady him, and together they stacked two pillows behind his back. He settled against them, finally propped upright.

“Mina, how long was I out?”

“Two days. The doctor said you lost a lot of blood.”

Karon turned his head a little. With care, no movements hurt. He just needed to avoid pulling at the wound in his chest.

A voice erupted from the doorway, “Inspector, you can’t smoke in here! This is a hospital.”

“I’m not smoking; I’ve just got a pipe.”

“Pipes aren’t allowed—”

“I haven’t even lit it. Just let me in.” Inspector Duke strode inside, led by his own booming laughter. “I just got here, and the doctor tells me you’re already awake.”

“Inspector...”

Duke dropped into a chair beside the bed. “You were right. Absolutely right! The killer really was spectacularly inept. If we hadn’t spent so long tracking down the first victim’s real name, we would’ve found her much sooner.”

Karon met his eyes. “Mrs. Hughes...”

Duke’s expression grew heavy. “I’m sorry. When we got to Hughes Crematorium, we found you tied to a chair, knife in your chest...” He gestured, hands spreading to his own chest. “You were lucky, we got you to the hospital just in time.”

He sighed. “Sadly, our arrival must’ve spooked Mrs. Hughes. She escaped, and we haven’t caught her.”

Karon sighed with the man.

“I’ve heard from your aunt. Mrs. Hughes wasn’t right. She went mad.”

Karon nodded.

“Any idea where she might have run?”

He shook his head.

“A lunatic. An absolute lunatic,” Duke repeated himself, as though his words fell short. “She killed without reason.”

Having seen the truth about what Mrs. Hughes was, disorganized and almost farcical, it seemed that the inspector didn’t want to keep talking about the case. With the answer already in hand, digging through her motives felt as pointless as trying to explain color to the blind. “I spoke with your doctor. You’re alright, just need a bit of time.”

The inspector gently patted Karon’s cheek. “Most importantly, that face of yours is still good. Thank heavens.”

Karon turned his head away, saying nothing.

Inspector Duke let out a dry laugh and rose from his chair. “The wanted notice has already been circulated. Since the press hasn’t caught wind of the situation, our department isn’t under much pressure. I hope you make a full recovery. I was impressed by your approach to the case. We should discuss things again someday.”

“Alright, Inspector,” Karon replied.

“I’ll be on my way, then.” Duke always seemed to be in a hurry. He left the fruit untouched as he moved for the door, but before he could leave, voices entered from the hallway.

“Hmm? Why are you here?” Duke asked.

“We’re here to ask about the incident,” a man replied.

“Is there anything left to ask?”

“It’s not that we want to be here, but that we must,” a woman replied.

A man in a grey wool coat and a hooked nose appeared. He was followed by a woman in a long grey dress.

Karon recognized them both at once. The night he had left Crown Ballroom and flagged a taxi, these two emerged from the one that he climbed into. At the time, the woman had mentioned “demonkin.”

The man with the hooked nose flashed an ID, but did so too quickly for Karon to see any details. The man took a seat, while Inspector Duke lingered in the doorway, watching.

“Mr. Karon, is it? First, congratulations on your recovery. I hope you continue to improve.”

“Thank you,” Karon replied. He noticed how the man’s eyes moved. They dropped from Karon’s face to his hands, lingered at his throat, and then returned to his eyes. They were searching for the slightest gesture or twitch.

What the man did not see was that Karon himself was also familiar with such tells. After facing Alfred the other night and being scrutinized by him, this man’s appraisal felt almost amateurish in comparison.

“Mr. Karon, I want to ask: in your dealings with Mrs. Hughes, did you observe anything odd about her?”

Karon gave the man a look of disbelief. “She left me like this. Isn’t that odd enough?”

“That’s not what I mean. Aside from her actions as a murderer, did you notice anything truly unusual about her?”

“I did,” Karon said.

At this, the hooked-nose man’s eyes narrowed sharply and the woman behind him readied her notebook.

Karon continued, his tone deadly serious, “As far as killers go, she was peculiarly stupid.”

From the doorway, Inspector Duke spluttered with laughter.

The hooked-nose man hesitated. His mouth opened, searching for a response. Eventually he asked, “I mean, did she act strangely; during the attack, for example? Did her appearance or voice ever make you feel as if she might be someone else?”

Karon remembered the shift in Mrs. Hughes’ voice, the change in behavior, and the birthmark. Still, he shook his head.

“Mr....”

“You can call me Roddy.”

“Alright, Mr. Roddy. To be honest, I don’t quite understand your questions. All I can say is this: that night, I took my aunt home. On the way back, Mrs. Hughes offered to help me lose my virginity. I let myself get carried away, and we went to the crematorium.”

“Why not her place?” Roddy pressed.

“She said, over there...” Karon let the mention of the crematorium stand, as if to underline how unusual Mrs. Hughes was.

Lent, standing by the bed, blushed. Mina looked away.

Roddy checked with his assistant; She nodded, confirming she’d caught it all in her notes.

“Then she told me she would teach me. She told me to sit in the chair first, so I sat.”

“You just went along with it?” Roddy sounded puzzled.

“She said, if I let her... she would...”

Roddy stayed silent, momentarily lost. Eventually, Karon continued, “Mr. Roddy, I know how absurd this must sound. I’m usually careful, but that night, my mind didn’t work the way it should. I simply acted on impulse, doing whatever she asked, hoping for it all to be over soon.”

Inspector Duke, standing in the doorway, nodded knowingly. “I understand. Men will be men.”

The woman in grey leaned forward and whispered into Roddy’s ear, “Is that truly what happened, Captain?”

Roddy didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “After that, she attacked you?”

“No. She said she wanted to create a great work of art. The original model was supposed to be my aunt, but since I took her back, I became a substitute. She talked about her composition, again and again, asking for my opinion each time.”

“And in the end?”

“She drove the dagger into my chest. I watched myself bleed. She kept talking about her composition. Then, everything went black. The next thing I knew, I was here.”

Roddy nodded, and then stood. His questions were finished.

Karon didn’t want to see Mrs. Hughes’ story warp into talk of “demonkin.” That path would only lead to trouble, both for himself and for the Immers family. It was safer to let things remain a grim tale of a serial killer, and let things rest there.

But things were not at rest, not truly. The police would continue to search for Mrs. Hughes, unless they managed to dissect Ms. Molly. Then again, Ms. Molly might not even possess an organ like a stomach.

Roddy turned as if to leave, but paused and glanced back at Karon on the hospital bed. The man smiled. “Mr. Karon, you’re quite young. I’m curious, how did you end up performing a psychological analysis for the police?”

“I learned.”

“Learned from whom?”

“A friend. I’ve always been interested in psychology. When I was younger, I had mild autism, so I tried using psychology books to help myself through it, along with some help from a friend...”

“I mean, who is this friend?”

“Me.” A figure stepped through the door. Piaget was dressed casually, yet still carried the mark of old money.

“And you are?” Roddy asked, looking the man up and down.

“Karon’s friend. He’s extraordinarily talented at psychology. Here was my card.”

Roddy took the business card. Upon seeing the surname, his eyes narrowed. “Your father is...”

“Compa Adams,” Piaget replied. The Minister of Energy and Industrial Development for Swillen.

“Are you finished with your questions? My friend only just awoke, and he needs rest, not further interruptions.”

“We’re done.” Roddy left the room, the woman in grey still trailing behind him. Inspector Duke waved to Karon as he also left.

Piaget crossed to Karon’s bedside and smiled. “My friend, I heard about your accident yesterday, but you still hadn’t woken. I prayed for your recovery. It seems God heard me.”

“Thank you, Piaget.”

“Oh, and this.” Piaget passed an insulated container to Mina. “Would you find a bowl and spoon later, and feed some of this to your cousin?”

“Of course, sir,” Mina replied.

Piaget leaned closer to Karon, lowering his voice, “It’s a medicinal chicken soup. People have used plants as medicine since ancient times. Many traditions descended from this.”

When Mina opened the container, the scent drifted out: herbs and rich chicken, a nourishing aroma. Karon was never able to handle the thick soups his aunts made at home, but Piaget’s reminded him of chicken stewed with mushrooms.

“You made it yourself?” Karon asked.

Piaget laughed, shaking his head. “I had Linda ‘awaken’ and cook it using my body. I couldn’t possibly cook myself.”

Karon smiled. The strangeness of such talk felt almost comforting between them.

“By the way, I heard from your family you dropped out of high school?”

“Yes, because of my psychological issues: autism.”

Autism. It served as an explanation for everything.

“Pity. Once you’ve recovered, would you like to return to school? I mean university, if you can pass the entrance exam. My letter of recommendation would certainly help.” Such a letter carried real weight. Earlier, Karon had seen how the man with the hooked nose had reacted to Piaget’s surname. The man undoubtedly had greater standing than that of a simple professor.

“I’d need to discuss it with my family. You know, I still need to earn money for them.”

Piaget looked puzzled. “Money needs to be earned?”

Karon couldn’t find the words to reply. The Immers family managed, but compared to Piaget...

“My apologies,” Piaget said softly. “Talk it over at home. If you need help with the money, come to me.”

“Thank you.” In any era, any place, if someone offered to lend money, they were a true friend.

“Get some rest. I’ll head back now.”

“Alright. Take care.” Piaget then left.

Mina fed Karon a bit of the soup. He ate more than a little, as it tasted genuinely good. He let Mina and Lent share what was left, and Karon later drifted off into another nap.

He awoke at the sense of someone fussing at his side. His eyes cracked open to find one of his aunts there, rolling back his covers and tugging down his trousers. Maybe it was because of his wounds that he had slept so deeply before.

Aunt Mary met his gaze, her eyes red and her hands trembling. “Lie still. I’m going to give you a sponge bath. You can’t shower just yet, and this will help you feel better. You’re always so fussy about cleanliness.”

“Thank you, Aunt.”

“No thanks needed, Karon. You suffered in my place. If I hadn’t dragged you out for barbecue that afternoon, none of this would have...” She began to cry.

“It’s alright now. As long as you’re safe, that was enough. It was really nothing, Aunt.”

“Don’t say that, Karon! Just lie still. I’m sorry.”

“No, really, it was nothing.”

“Just lie still.”

Karon lay silent, allowing Aunt Mary to wash him. Because it was his elder caring for him, he felt only calm, untouched by embarrassment. Aunt Mary’s movements were practiced. There was no question how familiar she was with such tasks.

Aunt Mary kept watch at his bedside until later in the afternoon, and even fed him some fruit. Finally, at Karon’s gentle urging, she took Mina and Lent home. Karon’s cousins had school the next morning, and the family business couldn’t manage without Aunt Mary. Besides, Karon was in a VIP ward, and there was a call button within arm’s reach. Unless some emergency called them away, he could summon a nurse for anything he might need, whether food or daily care. The family didn’t have to hire a personal attendant, though of course, the cost of the convenience he was provided far exceeded a nurse’s pay.

That evening, Karon asked a nurse for a newspaper to pass the time. She also delivered her own novel, and before long, he set the paper aside, becoming absorbed in the novel instead.

It was a Mary Sue romance. Curiously, Karon found himself enjoying it.

Late at night, the door to his room opened. A black cat darted in, springing onto his bed. Tiz entered right behind.

Karon wet his lips and adjusted himself to be sitting a little straighter. Tiz came to the bedside and asked, “Does it still hurt?”

“It was nothing. The doctor said nothing vital was damaged,” Karon replied, managing a smile. He wondered if he should be afraid of Tiz. After all, just a short time ago, Tiz had calmly thrust a knife into his chest. But there was little reason for fear; Karon was still alive.

“Want something to eat?”

“I heard cat soup was supposed to work wonders for healing.”

Pu’er just silently glared, while Tiz just laughed and walked over to the window. Karon glared back.

“Karon.”

“Yes, Grandpa.” Karon immediately turned toward Tiz at the window.

“Do you have many questions?”

“I do.”

“Do you want to ask?”

“I was never sure I should.” Before, Karon had always feared that if he broke past the last layer of secrecy, he wouldn’t survive, that Tiz would be forced to silence him. But the other night, as he had stood in the bedroom with Alfred and Ms. Molly, looking down at Tiz, everything had already been ripped open. Now, curiously, he felt calm. Tiz had already stabbed Karon once, so what more was there to fear?

“If the next time you sense danger nearby I’m not home, you had best take Poelle with you.”

“Yes, Grandpa. I understand.”

“This time, if not for those two from 128, you would be dead.”

“Yes, Grandpa.”

Tiz faced the window and sighed. “A mistake that began with me should end with me.” He turned, his gaze falling on Karon, who lay in the bed. “No one else had the right to interfere.”


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