Abacus

were interrupted by the soft husky voice of Nurse Florence as she pointed to the left side of the ward. “We have two sides to the ward, this side is for the patients who have severe conditions and have generally been here long-term,” she said, pointing to the right. “Whereas the other side of the ward is for day patients and those who stay are only short-term. My office is just out the back.”
    As they continued through the ward, an elderly man shuffled towards Hobbs. He looked about sixty-five years old, five feet four inches tall, with short balding hair, wearing winter pyjamas and thick bifocals. The little man shuffled up in his slippers very close to Hobbs, gazed at him with his magnified eyes, and asked loudly, “Can I help you?”
    Hobbs wa s startled, and with an uncomfortable laugh replied, “No thanks, we’re right.”
    The question came again. “Can I help you?”
    “No, no, I’m right , thanks,” he replied, obviously trying to remain polite.
    The m an continued to follow them, bombarding Hobbs with the same question over and over. With every question, his magnified eyes would pop up in front of Hobbs’s face. The further they walked, the quicker the questions came, until it was continual. “Can I help you? Can I help you? Can I help you? Can I help you?”
    Randall could not hide his amusement and started to belly laugh. The fact that Hobbs had jumped in front of him made it all the more amusing.
    Nearing the office, Nurse Florence came to the rescue. “Harold,” she called in a stern voice. “These men are here to see me. Off you go, we need privacy.”
    Harold looked at the nurse , then back at Hobbs and gave it one more go. “Are you sure I can’t help you?”
    The nur se raised her voice. “Harold!” A visibly dejected Harold turned and walked back into the ward.
    Randall looked at N urse Florence with a big smile. “Please don’t tell me Harold is our suspect.”
    “No, no,” she said , sharing his laughter. “Anyway, you’ll never be able to pin anything on Harold, he’s got a watertight alibi.”
    “And what is that? ” Hobbs asked.
    “H e’s been in this place for the last twelve years.”
    Near the entry to the office, Randall looked to his right and saw another elderly man spinning a button on his shirt. As he spun the button he looked straight ahead at the oppos ing wall and jiggled his feet. “This is Ben,” said Nurse Florence. “He has been here for about four years.”
    Randall watched him closely. “What is the go with the button twirling thing?” he asked, genuinely interested.
    “For the four years he has been here, he has continued to spin that button on his shirt. When he first came in, he was spinning normal threaded buttons, but they would break in a day and he would fly into a rage. So we sewed them on with fishing line. That would last a little longer. Now we attach those metal denim jean-type buttons onto his shirts. Though he still manages to go through one of those every few weeks.”
    “Are you serious? ” Randall asked in amazement. The nurse nodded. “You mean he’s been continually spinning a button for four years.”
    “Sure has .”
    Shaking his head as he entered the office Randall said, “That is true commitment right there.”
    “Take a seat , guys,” the nurse offered before gracefully sliding behind her desk. “The reason why I gave you a call is that I saw the newspaper article about your murder investigation, where a man’s severed head was found. It may be nothing, but it just so happens that we have a patient in the other ward who came in two days ago in a very delusional state. We think that his symptoms are as a result of a drug-induced psychosis. Since being in here, he has told me that he has had a nightmare about seeing a dead body with its head cut off. He said that he was then rained on by small falling pieces of the body. There may be nothing in it, but I thought I would let you guys know as he was out and about two days ago.”
    “ I’ve just got a few questions.” Randall clicked the top of his pen in and out. “Firstly, do they have access to newspapers in the ward?”
    “They sur e do.”
    “And do they watch a fair bit of TV here?”
    “Yes, lots of TV.”
    “Okay . And next, can he read?”
    “Yes , I’ve seen him read quite a bit.”
    Randall was mesmerised by her beautiful eyes. He briefly forgot his next question . “And finally, could I trouble you to check on your system and see if he