Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Page 1837

((Triple Wednesday -- Page 3 of 3))
Hector wasn’t sure what to say say to that. Being famous sure was fucking weird.

The doctor reached into his lab coat and pulled out a folded up paper. “Here’s a copy of my preliminary assessment.”

Hector took it and looked it over, though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“It’s still too early to say for sure,” said Dr. Carlyle, “but... there is unfortunately a very real possibility that the patient will never wake up.”

Hector blinked. “Why?”

“The damage done to his brain and nervous system may not have been fatal, but it would not be strange if he remains comatose. As I said, it’s still too early to tell. He may wake up. He may not.”

“...Do you know what caused this?” said Hector.

“We do,” said the doctor. “We identified the alcoholic drink in his possession as containing a lethal dose of potassium cyanide.”

Hector’s head reared back a little. “Cyanide...?” Now there was a scary word.

“It is safe to say that if you had not gotten him here as quickly as you did, he would be dead.”

Holy shit.

So someone really did try to kill the guy.

He needed information. Hector asked the doctor for details regarding the man’s identity, and the doctor obliged, producing a folder from his lab coat with everything the hospital knew about the man.

Jeremy Lang. Thirty-seven years old. Employed as an Administrative Assistant in the Human Resources Department at Lindhold & Barter.

That was was one hell of a job title, Hector thought.

“I hope you find your culprit,” said Dr. Carlyle. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned to leave.

“Will you call me if he wakes up?” said Hector, pulling out his phone. “Or if there are any other developments?”

The doctor’s expression became strained. “I... suppose I could. It wouldn’t really be proper, since you’re not with the police or listed as one of his emergency contacts, but... you are a lord. And a national hero. Conventional rules don’t really apply to you, I guess.”

Hector was speechless and embarrassed.

Dr. Carlyle smirked. “You’ll use your status to protect me if I get in trouble for this, won’t you?”

“Er. Sure.”

“That answer does not fill me with confidence, milord.” Dr. Carlyle adjusted his glasses and smiled. “Stressful as it sometimes is, I do like this job and would prefer not to lose it. It pays very well, and my wife loves spending money.”

Hector couldn’t help but breathe half a laugh. The man wanted confidence from him, huh?

Alright.

“...I promise you will have my protection,” said Hector.

“That’s better. Thank you.” The doctor pulled out his phone as well.

They exchanged numbers.

Dr. Carlyle smirked another time as he eyed his phone. “I imagine there are plenty of journalists who would love to get their hands on this, eh? How much do you think I could get for it?”

“Do that and you’re dead to me,” said Hector flatly.

The man just laughed.

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