- Number 5132, - she said shortly and got ready to leave, - I'll leave you.

- Number 5132? - Pirel took out cards from his suitcase and leaned back in his chair, - Cause of death?

- Stroke.

- Damn it, - Pirel whispered softly, - In an hour, bring patient 4505 to the isolation ward.

- Well, - the nurse left the office and left the man with the police.

Exactly an hour later, patient 4505 was already in the isolation ward, but the doctor was not there yet. He was 10 minutes late, entered with a quick step and closed the doors behind him when he let out the orderlies.

- Good morning, doctor, - the guy shook his head, - There was such a fuss in the morning. Something happened?

This unobtrusive tone was infuriating, Pirel sat opposite him and opened the papers.

- How are you feeling? Something worries? – The man thought that he should not know about the death of 5132.

- No, nothing bothers, - he shrugged his shoulders and looked away indifferently.

- Did you sleep today?

- No, as always, - he smiled a little, - And you, doctor? Did you manage to sleep today?

Pirel raised an eyebrow in surprise and held his breath. Where do such questions come from? He's not just sick.

- Yes, I slept like a log, - the man closed the papers.

- Don't throw around such deadly words, doc, the guy smirked. Those eyes looking through you were frightening.

Pirel called the orderlies and got up from the table.

- I'll call you today, - he signed the papers and opened the doors.

"Don't rush Doc, I have plenty of time." He smiled once more before disappearing around the corner with the orderlies.

- Madhouse, - Pirel laughed quietly at his phrase and went into the office.

We had to deal with this once and for all in order to finish the story with Dino. The doctor picked up the phone from his work phone and dialed the number he wanted.

- Alexander Igorevich? – the man tiredly rubbed his eyes, - Are you going to breakfast now? I would like to join you to discuss one patient, - they briefly agreed on the other side of the phone, - Then see you at breakfast.

Just a coincidence, but the death of patient 5132 and the fire from the lighter were too strange. Pirel took out the lighter again and tried to light it. It was very old, a metallic black case with a red cross in the middle. He opened the top cap and lit the fire. The flames danced mesmerizingly from side to side.

- Where did I get it from? Pirel closed the fire and put it back in his pocket.

Time 10.00. He left the office and went down to the dining room. At a table in the corner sat Krolov with a plate of macaroni and chop. Pirel quickly took the same dish, a cup of coffee, and sat down at the doctor's table.

- Good morning, Pirel, - the doctor grinned, - What did you want to discuss with me?

- Patient number 5132, - the man put the card on the table.

- 5132? He died tonight, - Alexander Igorevich looked at the head physician in surprise, - What do you want to know?

- Tell us about the reception on September 11, - Pirel began the meal, not taking his eyes off Krolov.

“September 11th, then,” the doctor put down his plate and opened the appointment records to remember that day, “Unscheduled appointment? - the man put down the papers and returned to the food, - On that day, Sergei seemed to have been replaced. He always comes once a year for treatment, but this time he did not have time to check out. He was unlucky that he ended up in ward 4505. Even then I was against his transfer.

- Why? Pirel drank coffee.

- You, as the head physician, rarely encountered patients, you should have other concerns. Personally, you did not accept them and did not even see them. Why did you take up 4505? After such a long time.

- Because only with him everyone has problems at receptions. Not a single doctor wrote anything about admission to the card.

- Do you understand why they didn't write? I also took him to the reception, - the doctor smiled, - Because he is silent as if he were dumb. At my reception, he said "Good morning, doc" and "Goodbye", nothing more. Recording something that didn't happen doesn't make sense, so I didn't record his session either.

Pirel set aside his empty plate. It was hard to sort everything out.

- He is talking to me, - the head doctor spread his hands in different directions.

- Truth? And what did you find out about him? Maybe a name? Age? Where does he live? Relatives?

- No, he does not answer such questions. He talked about life before the hospital. He wants Dino back, the voice in his head.

- Dino? - Alexander Igorevich perked up, - According to Sergei Dino on that day, September 11, he tore out his nails and was going to kill him.

Why isn't this on the map?

- I considered it nonsense against the backdrop of a large number of sedatives.

- What else did Sergey tell you? Pirel pursed his lips. He hated calling patients by their first or last names. For him, all patients were only by card numbers. If you take all patients to heart, then he will never get to a high position.

- He woke up in the ward and saw 4505. He immediately understood who he was transferred to. All patients are afraid of it and try to avoid it. Sergei went to the door and began to knock on it to let him out. The orderlies were far away, so he turned to the guy. Further, according to him, a boy with bright blue eyes appeared and began to tear off his nails from his finger. One by one, until his screams were heard by the orderlies. I asked them. They told me that he scratched the door to such an extent that he tore off his nails, - Alexander Igorevich smiled. - It was nonsense, so I did not write a detailed description on the card.

The doctor glanced at his watch and whistled.

- I have to go, so, I'm sorry, Pirel. I hope I helped you with your problem, - Krolov collected the dishes and took them to a special table.

- Yes, thank you very much. I'm sorry I took your time.