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be coming back to you for the next dose. And I doubt he’ll get it in a pharmacy.”
    It was Dr. Moore’s turn to show signs of irritation.
    “I’d appreciate if you don’t refer to Arbidium as if it were a narcotic. It’s a non-addictive medical drug. As for the dose—he has a full ten-month supply of pills.”
    “A ten-month supply,” Gorton repeated.
    An image of a clear-plastic bottle with four lonely pills was flashing before his eyes.
    “So he is supposed to take a single pill in five days, right?”
    “Yes. Why?”
    “Well,” Gorton said slowly, “I’m sorry to inform you that your patient has only four pills left. It took him only four months to consume his ten-month dose. I suppose it was one of these decisions he made and acted upon, thanks to your non-addictive medical drug. So are you sure about him not having withdrawal symptoms?”
    “Are you certain that he actually took all these pills?”
    “Either that or he sold them on the black market.”
    “Very funny,” Dr. Moore said, a light trace of concern in his voice. “Well, there isn’t much we can do about it. In this case an overdose presents no danger. Although it’s a very interesting outcome. Especially considering the circumstances.”
    “No danger?” Gorton even rose from the chair, leaning toward the phone. “Your pills turned a quiet bank clerk into a criminal! Your Arbidium is better than heroin!”
    “ Arbidium has nothing to do with Borovsky’s actions,” Dr. Moore’s voice was ice-cold. “He simply did what he wanted to do.”
    “And had he wanted to slaughter a dozen people, your pills would’ve helped him in satisfying that desire? Where do you draw the line?”
    “Nowhere. We don’t draw it. The patient does. Arbidium does not weaken logical reasoning. If anything, it strengthens it. The person knows that an action would always follow a decision, leading to the corresponding consequences.”
    “He didn’t seem to worry much about consequences last night.”
    “Or maybe he did. You don’t seem to understand that the single purpose of Arbidium is to help people do what they really want. It could be a childhood dream or a relatively new wish, but it has to be something the person really wants. The medicine does not affect the decision-making process. It only affects execution.”
    “But until he took a horse’s dose of your medicine, he had been living a normal life!”
    “Well then maybe it’s for the better that he took it. Who knows how it would’ve ended had he been accumulating his dissatisfaction for another year. At least at this point it was only money.”
    “Only money,” Gorton muttered. “It’s easy for you to say.”
    “Not easy—this conversation is taking place during a scheduled consultation with a patient. If you call me again, I may send you a bill. Do you have any further questions?”
    “No,” Gorton said. “Thank you for your time.”
    He hung up and looked gloomily out the window. Same, always the same picture. The back side of a brick building covered in graffiti. A slightly angled darkened wooden utility pole in front of it. A hot wind keeps dragging torn newspaper pieces along the dusty ground. Why is the place always full of newspaper pieces? Who tears these newspapers apart every day?  Any why?
    Somebody knocked on the door.
    “Come in,” Gorton said.
    Kelly entered.
    “We found the car,” he said laconically.
    “Where?”
    “Las Cruces. It’s less than an hour’s drive from the border.”
    “I know. That’s it. They can kiss their money goodbye. He must be already in Juarez, maybe even farther away.”
    “Who knows,” said Kelly. “A rented car with four men . . . They may get stopped at the border.”
    “Of course,” Gorton muttered. “Of course.”
    Once he was alone in the office again he turned back to the window. The same wall, the same pieces of newspaper, flying lazily up and down in endless circles.
    That’s it. The case of the ‘Robbery of the