SURGEON AT ARMS

'I apologize if it strikes you that way. But I couldn't possibly operate on a patient without satisfying myself over the reasons. Some of them are pretty obscure, admittedly, but at least they hold water. I'm inclined to think there's something behind all this. I'd prefer not to ask about it. There're plenty of other plastic surgeons in London. You can always try your luck elsewhere.'

Lord Cazalay brushed his moustache, 'I'm sorry you're being so unco-operative. Perhaps you'll think again.'

'Why don't we tell him the truth?' suggested Arthur, as if struck by a novel thought. As Lord Cazalay made no reply, he went on, 'Look, Sir Graham-I'm in a bit of trouble.'

'We're all in a bit of trouble,' muttered Lord Cazalay.

'You saw in the papers this morning about Fred Butcher?' Arthur continued. 'It's the beginning of something. People have been nosing about where they shouldn't, making trouble. Mind, I've always acted in good faith, always. But you've got to cut a few corners these days. I'll have to lie low for a bit. I thought if you changed my face it would all be a bit easier to avoid the publicity.'

Graham sat staring at him. 'You mean, you're a crook and you want me to alter your appearance to escape your just deserts?' As neither visitor said anything, he continued, 'Well, I shan't play the outraged citizen. I've had a few requests of a similar nature in my time. I'll only tell you the whole idea is reprehensible, and ask you to leave at once.'

'I'll make it well worth your while, honest I will,' Arthur repeated hopefully.

Graham got up. 'You could never do that, Mr King.'

'Just a moment,' Lord Cazalay interrupted. 'We're none of us shining with innocence. You seem to have forgotten the few favours I've done you. That foreign currency for your villa. It would look pretty nasty if it came into court, wouldn't it? They'd hand out a stiff sentence for a fiddle on that scale. You'd go to jail, wouldn't you? And your medical authorities would have a few words to say about the matter, too. They'd hardly let you go on practising after that.'

'You mean you're blackmailing me?' demanded Graham.

'Blackmail? I don't know what that means. Business is run on a system of favours done and granted. Persuasion is necessary from time to time.'

'Get out.'

'I'm not going to let you take this high-and-mighty line,' Lord Cazalay continued more confidently. 'For your own good, Graham. You won't do yourself any harm, tidying up Arthur. You get dozens of people coming to have their faces altered, you said so yourself. You aren't to know he's in any trouble. Not yet. In a week or two it'll be a different matter. You're going to do this, my boy. I'm not given to idle threats. You've known my family long enough to realize that we get what we want. Either you do something for Arthur, or the details of your little currency transactions end up on the desk of the Director of Public Prosecutions.'

'Get out,' Graham repeated.

'No, I shan't get out. Sit down and think it over. I'll give you five minutes.'

23

Graham was startled how old Denise looked. Then he remembered she had been ill. As she opened the front door she stared at him with surprise, quickly trying to find a smile.

'Could I see John?' Graham asked at once. 'The Clinic told me he'd gone home.'

'Yes, of course, Graham. Come in. How are you keeping?'

'Oh, pretty well.'

'The weather's ghastly, isn't it?'

'Yes, ghastly.'

'And all this dreadful austerity we're supposed to put up with.'

'Yes, yes,' said Graham.

He came into the cold hall of the Bickleys' flat overlooking Regent's Park. It was barely an hour since his confrontation with Lord Cazalay.

John was in the sitting-room, reading the evening paper and tickling the dog. He stood up as Graham entered, saying amiably enough, 'An unexpected pleasure. Or have you come for a contribution towards the damage the boys did to that restaurant?'

'I won't stay a moment.' Still in his overcoat, Graham looked pointedly at Denise.

'Would you like a cup of coffee or something?' she asked with great reluctance.

'Please. That would be very kind.' As the door shut he turned to John and said, 'I wonder if you'd stuff a case for me? Tomorrow morning.'

John knocked his pipe on the fireplace. 'I expect I could squeeze it in, if it's early enough. Has everyone else let you down?'

'It's a special case.' Graham hesitated. 'It calls for a great deal of discretion. I'm going to do it at that little nursing-home place out at Ealing.'

'Graham!' John laughed. 'Don't tell me you're branching into the abortion racket?' Seeing Graham's troubled expression, he added seriously, 'But what is it? Some actress with a secret scar? Stella Garrod all over again?'

'Oh, it's a much nastier business than the Stella Garrod affair. I've got myself in a bit of a mess.'

John raised his eyebrows. Hardly the first time. At Graham's age, he really should start to learn. Perhaps Clare was right about the maladjusted child.

'A woman, you mean?'

'No, not this time.'

Graham explained about Arthur King.

'I see,' said John calmly when he had finished. 'So you're going to do the case?'

'I've no alternative, have I? I was a fool having anything to do with that Cazalay bastard. He tried to bring me down once before. This time he's going to make a proper job of it.'

'But if you do it, and the fact comes out in the papers, it's going to look pretty nasty for you.'

'Perhaps nothing will come out'

'These things generally do.'

Graham looked more uneasy, and said, 'It isn't the first time, you know. Before the war I did a couple of patients like this. I had my doubts about them, but didn't delve very deeply. I just blinded myself to the fact they were a pair of crooks. I was disgusted at myself afterwards. I don't want to repeat the experience, quite apart from risking my neck. But if I don't…why the hell did I buy that villa, anyway? I've never had a chance to use it'

'I don't think I can really give the anaesthetic for you, Graham.'

'No, I didn't expect you would. It was selfish of me to ask. I wanted the moral support, I think, that's all. I'll see what I can do under local. Probably I can manage more than I expect We get spoiled, with good general anaesthetics always available from experts like you. Some of our more unfortunate brethren manage to run a flourishing practice in cosmetic work under locals. The ones who get themselves struck off for advertising.'

'Won't you take my advice and not touch this case, Graham?'

'You mean to substitute the certainty of trouble with the law for the possibility?'

'It's two sorts of trouble. The operation would spoil everything you gained for yourself during the war.'

'What did I gain? A knighthood. For services to publicity.'

'You know that's not true.'

'Not completely so, perhaps. But it's near enough to the mark.'

'I was speaking to Clare about you two or three weeks ago,' John remarked unexpectedly.

Graham looked at him sharply. 'I thought she'd disappeared off the face of the earth?'

'She's at the Kenworth. Children's ward sister. I do a list there once a week.'

Graham made a wry expression. 'How is she?'

'Very well. She likes her job.' John paused and added, 'Do you want to see her again?'

'She'd hardly want to set eyes on me,' Graham told him impatiently.

'I'm certain she would.'

'No, that's ridiculous. Not after the way I treated her.'