Gina spoke in Flemish, explaining that they were from the government and wanted to ask him some questions. Immediately, Bond knew that the man was involved. Lindenbeek’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard.
“Come in,” he said in English, gesturing toward his office.
Bond asked, “Dr. Lindenbeek, do you recall making a sketch that looks like this?” He took a pen from the doctor’s desk and drew a torso on the prescription pad. When he outlined the pacemaker position, Dr. Lindenbeek slumped back in his chair and held his head in his hands.
“Well?” Bond asked.
“Am I under arrest?” he asked.
“Not yet. But it will help if you tell us everything.”
“I must keep my patients confidentiality . . .” he muttered.
Bond perceived that this man was merely a pawn. Perhaps if he scared him a bit, he would open up.
“Dr. Lindenbeek,” Bond said. “We’re here on a serious matter of espionage. I can assure you that if you don’t cooperate with us, then you will be under arrest. Espionage is a major crime. It can carry the death penalty. At the very least, you would lose your licence to practice medicine. Now, are you going to talk to us, or are we going to have to take you to the police?”
The doctor almost whimpered. “Yes, I performed the operation. I was forced to.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning,” Gina suggested. The toothpick went from one side of her mouth to the other.
Again Lindenbeek hesitated.
Bond added, “Dr. Lindenbeek, you could also be in serious danger. The people you’re dealing with are quite ruthless. They’re killers.”
Lindenbeek poured a glass of water from a pitcher on his desk. He offered some to his visitors, but they shook their heads.
“If I tell you everything, can you guarantee me protection?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” Bond said. “It depends on how much you tell us and how helpful it is.”
The doctor nodded and began to speak. “Five . . . no, six months ago, I got into a little trouble. There was a patient, a woman. I’m not married, and sometimes it is difficult for me to meet women. I was attracted to a patient and I may have gone too far. She certainly encouraged me, though. It was, how do you say, mutual?”
“Consensual,” Bond said.
“Yes. But somehow photographs were taken of us, here in this examination room. I had been set up. Afterward, this woman filed charges against me for rape and malpractice. The truth is that she is a member of something called the Union.”
He looked at Bond and Gina for a sign of recognition when he mentioned the name.
Bond nodded and said, “Go on.”
“You know of them?”
“Yes. Please continue, doctor.”
The doctor seemed relieved. “Thank God. I was afraid you would think I was crazy. This Union, they contacted me and said they could make this malpractice suit go away if I did something for them. At the time, I was defiant and thought I could prove in court that the woman wasn’t raped. Then they did something horrible. I began to receive photographs in the mail—child pornography. The packets would come two or three times a week. I burned them, but the Union got in touch with me again and said that I was now on some kind of list of child molesters. If I didn’t help them with a service, they would make sure that I was arrested and charged with dealing in that filth.”
“How did they contact you?” Bond asked.
“Always by phone. Some Frenchman. It was a local exchange, I’m pretty sure.”
“Then what happened?” Gina asked.
“What could I do? I agreed to help them,” he said. Lindenbeek was sweating and his hands were shaking as he poured himself another glass of water.
“What did they want you to do?”
“I was told that a Chinese man, Mr. Lee Ming, would come to see me. He was in his late fifties and actually needed the pacemaker. His heart rhythm went up and down. I was told to schedule an operation at Erasme for this man. I was to obtain a pacemaker and have everything ready. The night before the operation, I was told that an Englishman would visit me and deliver what they called a microdot. It would be on a piece of film. I was to put this microdot inside the pacemaker before performing the operation. As it seemed harmless, I did it.”
“When was this?”
“The operation was two days ago.”
“Can we see Mr. Lee’s file?” Gina asked.
At first Lindenbeek hesitated, but then he nodded. “It’s right here. He handed it over. Bond examined it, but there wasn’t much there. “Lee Ming” could very well be an alias. The patient’s address was listed as the Pullman Astoria Hotel.
“Did they ever tell you what was on the microdot?”
Lindenbeek shook his head. “I didn’t want to know.”
Bond believed him. The man was too scared to lie.
“Do you know where Mr. Lee is now?” Bond asked.
Lindenbeek shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. He’s a Chinese citizen visiting this country. The Englishman asked how soon Mr. Lee would be able to travel. I assumed that he was going back to China.”
“And you’re sure that the people who wanted this done called themselves the Union?”
“Yes.”
Bond stood up. “Right. Dr. Lindenbeek, I think it would be best if you come with us. We’ll want to interrogate you in more detail and show you some mug shots. This is for your own safety. If the Union are indeed behind this, and they learn that you’ve talked, you could be a dead man.”
“I’m under arrest?”
Gina nodded. “It’s better that way, doctor. You’ll be safer. We’ll take you to the police station downtown. Once we get this sorted out, we can move you somewhere else. We will need you for a trial if and when we catch the people responsible for this.”
“You mean . . . testify?”
Bond nodded. “You’re the only one who can prove that our man, Harding, gave you this microdot.”
“He told me his name was Donald Peters.”
“He lied. Come on, doctor. Better cancel the rest of your appointments today Let’s go.”
Hendrik Lindenbeek was taken to the police station at Rue Marché au Charbon, a more than fifty-year-old dark brown brick building. The Brussels authorities had been contacted by the Ministry of Defence and were now aware of the situation. Lindenbeek would be held pending a hearing that would take place the next day at the Palais de Justice. A public prosecutor had been assigned to consider espionage charges against Steven Harding and Lee Ming, and an all points alert had been issued for their arrest. Extraditing the suspects would be another matter altogether, as Belgium would hold its own hearings on whether or not they could indeed be sent to England. Bond figured that they would hold on to Lindenbeek, as he was a Belgian citizen. A Chinese national would probably be sent back home. Harding, however, was English, and belonged back in the UK.
Bond and Gina spent the afternoon at the police station and saw that Lindenbeek was put in a cell alone. Inspector Opsomer assured them that they would be contacted as soon as he heard something. Belgium’s state security force, the Securité d’État, was taking charge of the investigation. From then on, there was nothing more that could be done.
Before leaving the station, Gina phoned the Pullman Astoria Hotel and learned that Lee Ming had checked out.
Although they had caught a big fish, Bond felt frustrated. He knew M wouldn’t be completely happy, either.
They went back to the Métropole. Gina collapsed in an armchair while Bond sat at the desk to phone London. After the ritualistic security checks, he was put through to his chief.
“Double-O Seven?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How are you feeling? I heard about your injuries,” she said. Her concern sounded genuine.
“I’ll live, ma’am. Just a cracked rib and some bruises.”