Nineteenth Century Medical Guide

Chapter 1 1. Door

In Vienna, which is full of artistic atmosphere, the "door" is not only a shelter for the entrance and exit of the house, but also a work of art that can be stopped and appreciated.

Regardless of the material, carvings, colors, or door locks, hanging bells and handles, every design needs a lot of effort, otherwise it will be difficult to satisfy the discerning Austrians.Facing such a well-crafted door, even simple actions such as ringing the bell and knocking on the door have various norms and particularities.

Of course, these only exist in the upper class, and have nothing to do with the slums in the southeast corner of the capital.

The landlord of No. 73 Basinger Street is Andre, a kind, middle-aged man.Because the ancestors have a little noble blood, they are quite decent in dealing with people.

Relying on this three-story apartment, he can earn a handsome rent from wage earners every month.On weekdays, he stays at home reading books and painting, and sometimes he plays a piece of violin when he gets up, living a simple and comfortable life alone.

But this afternoon, facing the wooden door of Room 301, he left behind his childhood grace and became a fighter through and through.

As early as 3 minutes ago, Andre's generous palm had already started to interact with this inferior door panel.

The voice gradually rose from the polite "tuk tuk tuk", experienced a helpless "dong dong dong" and a somewhat impatient "bang bang bang", and soon changed into a series of vulgar "boom~boom~boom~boom~, Boom~boom~".

The whole corridor was filled with this noise, but with his excellent music quality, he finally had some sense of rhythm.

The effect was not bad, the door opened, and half of the young man's face was exposed through the crack of the door.

"Thank goodness."

Andre breathed a sigh of relief, but immediately picked up the temper he should have as a landlord: "What are you doing in there? Why did you open the door so late? My hand almost snapped off!"

"I'm taking a nap, Mr. Andre." Carvey rubbed his eyes, yawned, and then turned his head to look behind him, "They are"

"It's the police. Something happened to 302." Andre said casually, briefly indicating his intention, and then said to the two policemen behind him, "He is Carvey Hines, the tenant of 301."

Carvey put one hand on the door frame, somewhat nervous when he saw the policeman, and didn't know what to say for a while.It wasn't until the two raised the brim of their hats slightly and made an extremely perfunctory hat-off ceremony that he relaxed a little: "They all call me Kavi."

The right to speak was naturally handed over to the two policemen: "We need to ask you a few questions."

Carvey had no reason to refuse, nodded and said: "Ask what you want to ask."

"Do you know the tenant in room 302 next door?"

"I know, I remember she moved here before winter, and I helped her carry her luggage."

"What is your relationship?"

"Relationship?" Carvey scratched his head. "It's just an ordinary neighbor. In fact, I haven't said a few words. What I have to say is a casual greeting when we meet."

As soon as the young man finished speaking, he poked his head out and looked towards Room 302 on the right.

At this time, many people were already standing in the corridor, and several police officers surrounded the door of 302.In addition to those in uniform, there is also a police detective in a black woolen coat and an accompanying photographer, who seem to be discussing the shooting angle of the scene.

He quickly retracted his gaze, and his body returned to the previous position: "What's wrong with Miss Rosa?"

The policeman did not reply, his serious expression and indifferent tone seemed to tell him "Don't ask if you shouldn't ask": "Where are you at 1 o'clock this afternoon?"

"Sleep, right here."

I don’t know when there was an extra book in Carvey’s hand. He shook it in front of their eyes and said, “I’ve been staying at home reading books since 9 o’clock last night. It wasn’t until [-] o’clock this morning, after I had something to eat. Fell asleep in a daze."

"You didn't sleep all night?"

"The exam is coming soon. I usually have no time to work, so I need to study hard."

"Have you seen any strangers?"

"I just said that I have been reading and sleeping, sir." Carvey pointed behind him, "I haven't been out of the house."

"Haven't you ever left the house?"

"No."

"Have you heard any strange or unusual noises?"

"No."

From the facial expressions of the two policemen, it is not difficult to see that something is wrong, but no matter what happened to 302, Carvey didn't want to get himself involved, so he quickly cleared himself up with two simple "no". Relationship.

But that's all. After the question just now was ignored, it seems unwise to say one more sentence now, even if it is an innocuous nonsense.

Can't show curiosity, can't seem impatient, all he has to do is wait.Wait for the topic to change, or the police to take the initiative to let go, so as to reduce your sense of existence.

The wait will soon have results.

"I think it's still suicide, but I just can't think about jumping." Anderson put his hands in the small pockets of his suit vest, and couldn't help saying, "It's not good to die here, but it's really unlucky. If people misunderstand I thought it was because the window sills of the apartment were not strong enough, how could this house be rented out!"

The landlord's complaints became an opportunity for Carvey to divert his attention.

He adjusted his eyes, facial expressions and tone of voice, showing a kind of surprise that ordinary people should have: "What? Miss Rosa committed suicide?"

"Well, it was just half an hour ago."

"My God! I haven't noticed anything."

Carvey was surprised and added a bit of sadness with a brief pause, and then thought about it with deep meaning, drawing an imperfect but ordinary enough full stop to the whole topic: "I just met her two days ago, why is she so sad?" All of a sudden, it's unbelievable."

In the eyes of the police, this is what two ordinary citizens look like when they gossip, and there is nothing suspicious about it.

As far as they know, Rosa goes out at night and returns early, and her upside-down work and rest schedule makes her have little interaction with these neighbors.

From the diary and last words left behind, it should be clear that there is something wrong with the relationship. Even if the possibility of suicide is ruled out, Carvey is not among the suspects. Knocking on the door of his house is nothing more than a routine questioning That's all.

"Okay, let's ask these questions for now, and I will come to you if I have other questions."

"Can I go back to sleep?"

"Well, please go ahead."

"OK."

Seeing the police turn and leave, Carvey glanced at Room 302 again, and after a moment of hesitation, he was about to close the door.At this time, the landlord Andre suddenly came up, stuck his foot between the door frame and the door, and asked with a smile, "Do you remember this month's rent?"

Carvey adjusted the crumpled old sweater and replied, "I remember."

There was still a smile on Andre's face, but his tone was not much better. He stretched out three fingers and put them in front of him: "There are only three days left, 218 Heller, even if you can't afford it! Leave as soon as possible, so that I can find a new tenant to find some time to come out."

Carvey nodded: "I will pay."

Andre didn't expect him to agree so simply, and couldn't help but look at Carvey twice.

The person is still the same person as before, nothing has changed, but when I think of the appearance of the other party begging me for a grace period before, the contrast is a bit big.

To be honest, the young man in front of him has a good figure and face shape, which should be the type that women like, and he looks clean when he is dressed and washed.But in Andre's eyes, maybe his aristocratic blood is at work, and Carvey always exudes a poor atmosphere everywhere, and every gesture makes people feel uncomfortable.

But today, this young man has more composure that shouldn't belong to him.

Rent arrears are the last thing every landlord wants.

Especially in this block, almost all the workers live in just enough food and clothing, and a little indulgence in daily life will make ends meet.Clothes and food are two unshakable points of expenditure, and the final result can only be reflected in the housing problem.

It is definitely a good thing that the tenant can pay the rent on time, and Andre will not deliberately pursue the authenticity of this promise.

Moreover, the date was clearly stated in the contract, so there was no need for him to rush too much.As long as the time is up and the rent is not in place, he will tell Carvey to leave directly: "You must not remember the wrong time like last month. It will be 2 o'clock in the evening on February 28th, remember!"

"Please rest assured, Mr. Andre."

"That's good"

Carvey quickly closed the door and didn't give him a chance to continue complaining.

Andre looked at the horizontal bar at the door of 302, thinking that the lease that he had just signed for a whole year had become a waste of paper, and his heart was bleeding.

Suddenly, he raised his voice and shouted to the entire third floor: "After your lease contract expires, the monthly rent must be increased by 30 heels. The announcement will be posted at the gate at the end of the month, so please show me carefully." , don’t scold me for being greedy for money!”

After that, he turned and went downstairs.

This time he was determined to raise the price, even if the tenants complained, he could not be shaken.After all, it was not easy to find such a landlord on Basinger Street who fulfilled the contract in a down-to-earth manner and did not make small moves behind the scenes.

The contract in Carvey's hands expires next month, but he is obviously not interested in the price increase.

After gently closing the door, he turned and walked cautiously to the desk, and put the anatomy notebook in his hand back on the desk case.

This is actually a collection of drawings that records the anatomy and surgery process in detail. It has a beautiful cover and paper. It was written by Ignaz von Kern, a professor of surgery at the University of Vienna School of Medicine. It should be a very popular surgical medicine in this era. reading material.

At first glance, the maps inside are quite curious, which makes people feel unappetizing.

But this is actually a secular prejudice, but if you take a few more glances with a calm mind, you will be impressed by the superb artistry of the painter.From the perspective design, the choice of approach and cutting method, to the small structure and explanatory text, all of them show the original author's artistic taste.

Just like the 12mm percussion gun on Carvey's back.

The oily walnut wood gun body and the Damascus patterned steel barrel complement each other, coupled with the narrow and smooth streamlined shape, it looks like it was made by a famous master at first glance, and it is a boutique that only nobles can have.

Carvey's fingers caressed the cover of the drawing at hand, deliberately slowed down the rhythm of speaking, and further lowered his voice: "I have done everything you said, should I put this thing away first? In case It doesn't do anyone any good if it really goes off, the police are still outside."

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(End of this chapter)