hour of the day, Mather. I’ll do it. And if it goes wrong I’ll frame you. How will that look? Hmm? And who would the university believe? Me with my exemplary grades? Or you with your mediocre performance?”
‘“You’d be taking a big gamble.”
‘“Maybe. But I’m cleverer than you are. If I want to frame you, I will. You know that. If you want a positive conclusion to this matter, your only hope is to assist me.”
‘“I would be an accomplice to murder.”
‘“Stop saying that! It’s not murder!” Soames glared at me. “As I said before, he has consented.” He sniffed and looked at the patient. “Now I need a steady hand and complete silence to work. If you’re not going to help me, perhaps you should leave.” With a great effort he shifted the man onto his back by himself, then ripped open his shirt. I caught the unpleasant stench of stale sweat. Standing immobile and indecisive, I watched while Soames, hardly relishing the task, shaved the man’s torso and prepared the area with iodine. Finishing, he reached for a scalpel.
‘Finally breaking my shock-induced stupor, I walked up to Soames and grabbed his hand.
‘“Get off me,” he spat in disgust. “What do you think you’re doing?”
‘“Drop it, Soames. Drop it now, or I’ll go straight to the police.”
‘“Will you indeed? I’m sure they’d be interested in the part you’ve played in this matter.” I hesitated for a moment. It was long enough for him to shake his hand free and turn his attention back to the patient. “The police!” he sneered. “You’ll do no such thing.”
‘“I’m serious,” I threatened.
‘“So am I. You’re as much a part of this as I am. You wouldn’t dare involve the police.”
‘“I came here to stop you making a big mistake. I thought I could make you see sense. If I’d known you weren’t intending to reattach the organ, I’d have probably had you arrested by now. If this man dies you’ll be a murderer. You’re my friend, for Christ’s sake . . . do you think I want to see you go to prison?”
‘I thought I might break Soames. The hand holding the scalpel began to tremble slightly. He stood over the patient for quite some time, creating an awkward silence that made me wonder if he’d entered some sort of trance. Then, quietly but purposefully, he placed the scalpel back on the metal tray and wiped his damp brow with the front of a shirtsleeve.
‘“Very well,” he said, disappointed. “Leave me alone for a while, would you? I’ll sober him up and sort him out.”
‘It’s bizarre, but I almost felt sorry for Soames. His face, as I left the room, was a portrait of defeat. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t. He had the bearing of a man who’d been thwarted on the brink of something magnificent. I departed without a word. There was nothing to say.
‘Downstairs I made myself a cup of tea. Taking the drink into the living room, I reclined on the sofa. I took one careful sip and then put the mug down. The tea tasted good and it calmed me somewhat after the heated exchange. I pictured Soames in the room above, perhaps muttering under his breath and cursing my name while he revived the patient. My eyelids drooped and my breathing grew loud and regular. Feeling drained, I allowed myself to sleep.
‘I awoke a little while later, in the grip of a sudden panic. There was a wealth of noise from the room above. Amid desperate shouts from Soames, I could hear the muffled screams of a creature in great pain and distress. It didn’t take me long to guess what must be occurring up there. I jumped off the sofa, left the room and took the stairs two at a time. Before reaching the room I heard Soames cry, “Oh . . . oh Jesus!”
‘The theatre was a mess. Medical instruments were strewn across the floorboards and the whisky bottle had been smashed, leaving a large section of the floor dark and sodden. Soames flinched at the sound of my arrival and turned to face me.
‘“You’d be taking a big gamble.”
‘“Maybe. But I’m cleverer than you are. If I want to frame you, I will. You know that. If you want a positive conclusion to this matter, your only hope is to assist me.”
‘“I would be an accomplice to murder.”
‘“Stop saying that! It’s not murder!” Soames glared at me. “As I said before, he has consented.” He sniffed and looked at the patient. “Now I need a steady hand and complete silence to work. If you’re not going to help me, perhaps you should leave.” With a great effort he shifted the man onto his back by himself, then ripped open his shirt. I caught the unpleasant stench of stale sweat. Standing immobile and indecisive, I watched while Soames, hardly relishing the task, shaved the man’s torso and prepared the area with iodine. Finishing, he reached for a scalpel.
‘Finally breaking my shock-induced stupor, I walked up to Soames and grabbed his hand.
‘“Get off me,” he spat in disgust. “What do you think you’re doing?”
‘“Drop it, Soames. Drop it now, or I’ll go straight to the police.”
‘“Will you indeed? I’m sure they’d be interested in the part you’ve played in this matter.” I hesitated for a moment. It was long enough for him to shake his hand free and turn his attention back to the patient. “The police!” he sneered. “You’ll do no such thing.”
‘“I’m serious,” I threatened.
‘“So am I. You’re as much a part of this as I am. You wouldn’t dare involve the police.”
‘“I came here to stop you making a big mistake. I thought I could make you see sense. If I’d known you weren’t intending to reattach the organ, I’d have probably had you arrested by now. If this man dies you’ll be a murderer. You’re my friend, for Christ’s sake . . . do you think I want to see you go to prison?”
‘I thought I might break Soames. The hand holding the scalpel began to tremble slightly. He stood over the patient for quite some time, creating an awkward silence that made me wonder if he’d entered some sort of trance. Then, quietly but purposefully, he placed the scalpel back on the metal tray and wiped his damp brow with the front of a shirtsleeve.
‘“Very well,” he said, disappointed. “Leave me alone for a while, would you? I’ll sober him up and sort him out.”
‘It’s bizarre, but I almost felt sorry for Soames. His face, as I left the room, was a portrait of defeat. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t. He had the bearing of a man who’d been thwarted on the brink of something magnificent. I departed without a word. There was nothing to say.
‘Downstairs I made myself a cup of tea. Taking the drink into the living room, I reclined on the sofa. I took one careful sip and then put the mug down. The tea tasted good and it calmed me somewhat after the heated exchange. I pictured Soames in the room above, perhaps muttering under his breath and cursing my name while he revived the patient. My eyelids drooped and my breathing grew loud and regular. Feeling drained, I allowed myself to sleep.
‘I awoke a little while later, in the grip of a sudden panic. There was a wealth of noise from the room above. Amid desperate shouts from Soames, I could hear the muffled screams of a creature in great pain and distress. It didn’t take me long to guess what must be occurring up there. I jumped off the sofa, left the room and took the stairs two at a time. Before reaching the room I heard Soames cry, “Oh . . . oh Jesus!”
‘The theatre was a mess. Medical instruments were strewn across the floorboards and the whisky bottle had been smashed, leaving a large section of the floor dark and sodden. Soames flinched at the sound of my arrival and turned to face me.
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