“Listen. We’ll need to save time. Any operation has to be planned way in advance. You have to be examined, as I’m sure you realize.”
“Don’t take me for a fool.”
“No, no, but if you come to the clinic you’ll be asked questions. Surgery has to be scheduled, there’s a procedure that has to be followed…”
“You mean you’re not the big boss?” Alex was taken aback.
“Of course I am. But, I mean, if you are wanted, you surely want to be seen by as few people as possible?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So let’s go to my home. I’ll show you what I can do, design a new nose for you. You also have a double chin, which we can eliminate—all that sort of thing.”
Alex was suspicious, but he went along. He told himself everything was going just fine. The doctor was obviously scared shitless about his woman.
Back at Le Vésinet, Lafargue motioned Alex to a comfortable chair. They were in his study. Richard went through one file of photographs after another until he found pictures of a man not unlike Alex in appearance. With a white marker he carefully erased the nose, then limned a new one in black. Alex watched fascinated. Lafargue moved on to the double chin. Then he rapidly produced a freehand sketch of Alex as he was now, full face and in profile, and another of the Alex that was to be.
“Great! Make me look like that and you won’t have to worry about your wife.”
Then Alex grabbed the first sketch and tore it up.
“You’d better not make an Identi-Kit portrait of me after the operation,” he said anxiously, “and give it to the cops.”
“Don’t be silly. The only thing I care about is getting Eve back.”
“That’s her name, Eve? Anyway, don’t get the idea I don’t have every angle covered.”
Lafargue had no illusions. This joker surely meant to kill him if ever the operation was performed. As for Eve…
“We have no time to lose, you understand. I must examine you before the operation can be done. Down in the cellar I have a small laboratory set up, so we can get started right away.”
Alex frowned.
“You mean here?”
“Well, yes.” Richard smiled. “I frequently work away from the hospital.”
They both stood up, and Richard led the way. The cellar was very large, and there were several doors. Lafargue opened one, switched on the light, and went in. Alex followed, his eyes widening at the sight of the long, fully equipped bench and the glass-fronted cabinet stuffed with surgical instruments. Colt in hand, he went slowly round the mini-operating room that Richard had set up. He stood in front of the table, examined the immense spotlight that presided over it, picked up an anesthesiologist’s mask, touched the carboys.
“What is all this?” he asked in astonishment.
“It’s my laboratory, of course.”
“You don’t operate on people down here, do you?” Alex gestured toward the bench and spotlight. He recognized much of the equipment from the medical television show.
“No, no. But, you know, we have to perform experiments. On animals and so on.”
Richard felt the sweat gathering at his brow, his heart beginning to pound, but strove to betray nothing of the fear that gripped him.
Alex nodded in bemusement. Of course, he told himself, everyone knew that doctors were always experimenting on monkeys and stuff like that.
“But then, what I think is, I won’t have to go to the clinic. You could just operate on me here, couldn’t you? You’ve got everything you need right here, don’t you?”
Lafargue’s hands were trembling. He thrust them into his pockets.
“Come on! You got a problem with that?”
“No, not really. I may require a few items.”
“How long will I have to stay in bed after the op?”
“Oh, not long at all. You are young and strong—and we are not talking about a particularly traumatizing procedure.”
“Can the bandages come off quickly?”
“Oh, no. They’ll have to stay on for about a week.”
Alex paced around the room, thinking it over, fingering the equipment.
“If you do it here, is it dangerous?”
Lafargue spread his arms: no, there was, as a matter of fact, no danger at all.
“You’ll be all on your own? No nurse?”
“Oh, there’s no need for that. I can handle everything. I just have to take my time.”
Alex burst out laughing and clapped the doctor heartily on the back.
“You know what we’ll do then? I’ll move in here, and you’ll do the job as soon as you can. What about tomorrow?”
“Yes, all right, tomorrow if you wish. But, while you are, um, convalescing, who will take care of Eve?”
“Don’t get hot and bothered. She’s in good hands.”
“But I thought you were alone?”
“Well, no, not exactly. Don’t bother about it—nobody is going to hurt her. You do the op tomorrow. We both stay here for a week. You can call your chauffeur and tell him not to come. We’ll go together and get the stuff you need. You’ll have to take time off from the hospital. Come on, let’s go.”
They went up to the ground floor. Alex got Richard to call Roger at his house. When Lafargue got off the phone, Alex pointed the way upstairs and steered him into Eve’s flat.
“She’s not right, your wife, is she? Why do you lock her up?”
“She… Well, she has odd attitudes.”
“Like your daughter?”
“In a way, sometimes.”
Alex drew the three bolts and bade Lafargue goodnight. After inspecting the other bedroom, he took a stroll round the grounds. This “Eve” must be beginning to find the time long out there in Livry-Gargan. But everything was going great. In ten days, once his bandages were off, he would kill Lafargue, and goodnight one and all. Wouldn’t Eve be dead in ten days’ time? But who cared?
The next morning, Alex woke Richard early. He found him lying fully clothed on the bed. Alex made breakfast, and they ate together.
“We’re going to your clinic to get the things you need. Can you operate on me this afternoon?”
“No, you have to be examined, have a blood test.”
“Oh, yeah. Urine test and all that.”
“When I have the results, we can proceed. Tomorrow morning, all being well.”
Alex was satisfied. The doc seemed straight. It was Alex who took the wheel of the Mercedes for the trip to Boulogne. He let Lafargue off outside the clinic.
“Don’t be long. I’ve got my eye on you.”
“Never fear. I’ll just be a minute.”
Richard went into his office. His secretary was surprised to see him so early. He asked her to let the hospital know that he would not be there for morning consultations. He delved in a drawer and chose two bottles of medicine at random. Then, after a moment’s reflection, he went and got a box of scalpels, which he thought would impress Alex and strengthen his belief that he was genuinely part of the process.
Sure enough, once Lafargue was back in the car, Alex studied the labels on the bottles, opened the case containing the blades, and then put everything away carefully in the glove compartment. On arriving at Le Vésinet, they went straight down to the laboratory. Lafargue drew blood from the felon, crouched over a microscope, vaguely examined the slide using any old reagents, and then took Alex’s medical history.
“Good. We won’t have to wait until tomorrow. You are in excellent health. You’ll rest all day. No food at lunchtime. And then, this evening, I’ll operate on you.”
He went over to Alex and felt his nose, then his neck. From his pocket, Alex produced the sketch of his new face and unfolded it.