Blood and horror were splashed across his face. Approaching him, I saw the mangled form of the vagrant sprawled across the floor, limbs twisted in unnatural shapes, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.
‘Words cannot adequately convey the awfulness of what confronted me. Perhaps it will suffice to say that I could never have imagined that a human being, or any animal, could be so wholly consumed by pain.
‘“Oh dear,” Soames said, quite insufficiently.
‘I tried to avoid watching the tramp’s horrible convulsions, but it proved impossible.
‘“Can’t we do something?” I pleaded.
‘“Like what? His liver’s gone,” Soames replied. And then, in a tone at once cold and devoid of emotion: “He’s dying.”
‘I felt a sudden anger. My so-called friend had lied to me. He’d never intended to abort the operation. There was not a trace of compassion in his heart. In his eyes I saw a fire that burned for more than mere knowledge. There was something lustful and hateful there.
‘I had failed to stop Soames, and because of this I felt partly responsible for his act of brutality. It was a testament to his deviousness and tenacity that he’d managed to complete his atrocious task.
‘Inevitably, the homeless man died. His death, I am sad to say, was neither quick nor painless. I begged Soames to end the suffering, but he insisted on leaving the man be, to fully record the results of the abominable experiment.
‘I felt unable to move until the man had finally expired. Soames pleaded with me to remain. He insisted he needed my assistance in cataloguing the findings. I think what he really wanted was my help in disposing of the body, but I would have nothing more to do with the matter. He could clean up his own mess.
‘That evening the nightmares began. Even during the days following, I could see the poor wretch’s face painted in a permanent mask of horror and hear his agonized screams. He has never left my thoughts since. Soames kept his distance from me after that night, much as I had expected. I only saw him at classes, where he would sit all alone at the back of the room, trying when possible to tackle all practical assignments by himself.
‘About a month or so after the incident Soames disappeared. No one knew where he had gone, or why, but in the months before he vanished rumours had circulated of screams and disappearances in the area. Perhaps Soames had continued his experiments without my help. I dread to think what he might have done.
‘When I became a practising surgeon I thought I would be able to put it all behind me, but my career seemed tainted from the beginning. Every operation I performed brought back that memory as clear as day. Somehow I managed to work for sixteen years before the memories and guilt threw me into a state of depression and despair.’
Mather paused, the story clearly dredging up old, unwelcome emotions. I sat quietly for some moments, trying to process what he had told me. I think it goes without saying that it isn’t every day I hear a story like that. I tried to imagine myself in Mather’s position. The idea was horrific. Perhaps he was unaware of how shocking and frightening such a story would be to a stranger like myself. He sipped his tea and stared out of the window. The odd cloud came and went, casting grey shadows across his face.
‘Luckily I’d saved a considerable sum of money, and was able to move here,’ Mather continued. ‘I could finally pursue my real obsession – the Lady.’
I looked at the Dictaphone to see if there was still enough tape left. It had almost reached the end of one side, but Mather’s story seemed to be coming to a close. I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Why had he told me all this? And why had he been so honest about not trying to stop Soames earlier? He hadn’t struck me as the sort of person who would be intimidated easily. Why hadn’t he gone to the police at the earliest opportunity? Surely he would have, if
‘Words cannot adequately convey the awfulness of what confronted me. Perhaps it will suffice to say that I could never have imagined that a human being, or any animal, could be so wholly consumed by pain.
‘“Oh dear,” Soames said, quite insufficiently.
‘I tried to avoid watching the tramp’s horrible convulsions, but it proved impossible.
‘“Can’t we do something?” I pleaded.
‘“Like what? His liver’s gone,” Soames replied. And then, in a tone at once cold and devoid of emotion: “He’s dying.”
‘I felt a sudden anger. My so-called friend had lied to me. He’d never intended to abort the operation. There was not a trace of compassion in his heart. In his eyes I saw a fire that burned for more than mere knowledge. There was something lustful and hateful there.
‘I had failed to stop Soames, and because of this I felt partly responsible for his act of brutality. It was a testament to his deviousness and tenacity that he’d managed to complete his atrocious task.
‘Inevitably, the homeless man died. His death, I am sad to say, was neither quick nor painless. I begged Soames to end the suffering, but he insisted on leaving the man be, to fully record the results of the abominable experiment.
‘I felt unable to move until the man had finally expired. Soames pleaded with me to remain. He insisted he needed my assistance in cataloguing the findings. I think what he really wanted was my help in disposing of the body, but I would have nothing more to do with the matter. He could clean up his own mess.
‘That evening the nightmares began. Even during the days following, I could see the poor wretch’s face painted in a permanent mask of horror and hear his agonized screams. He has never left my thoughts since. Soames kept his distance from me after that night, much as I had expected. I only saw him at classes, where he would sit all alone at the back of the room, trying when possible to tackle all practical assignments by himself.
‘About a month or so after the incident Soames disappeared. No one knew where he had gone, or why, but in the months before he vanished rumours had circulated of screams and disappearances in the area. Perhaps Soames had continued his experiments without my help. I dread to think what he might have done.
‘When I became a practising surgeon I thought I would be able to put it all behind me, but my career seemed tainted from the beginning. Every operation I performed brought back that memory as clear as day. Somehow I managed to work for sixteen years before the memories and guilt threw me into a state of depression and despair.’
Mather paused, the story clearly dredging up old, unwelcome emotions. I sat quietly for some moments, trying to process what he had told me. I think it goes without saying that it isn’t every day I hear a story like that. I tried to imagine myself in Mather’s position. The idea was horrific. Perhaps he was unaware of how shocking and frightening such a story would be to a stranger like myself. He sipped his tea and stared out of the window. The odd cloud came and went, casting grey shadows across his face.
‘Luckily I’d saved a considerable sum of money, and was able to move here,’ Mather continued. ‘I could finally pursue my real obsession – the Lady.’
I looked at the Dictaphone to see if there was still enough tape left. It had almost reached the end of one side, but Mather’s story seemed to be coming to a close. I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Why had he told me all this? And why had he been so honest about not trying to stop Soames earlier? He hadn’t struck me as the sort of person who would be intimidated easily. Why hadn’t he gone to the police at the earliest opportunity? Surely he would have, if
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