MacLean smiled knowingly. ‘If it’s to be a good one, shall we go back upstairs?’
Leavey packed up his camera equipment and Tormo asked MacLean how he thought the article was progressing. MacLean assured him that things were going well and reminded him to ask about permission to see one of the clinic’s operations. He and Leavey were left alone in the upstairs lab while Tormo went to see the director. ‘I found the Pharmacy,’ said MacLean. ‘It’s down from the nurses’ station on the left hand side.’
‘Was it manned?’ asked Leavey.
MacLean confessed that he had not had the chance to find out. A nurse had found him snooping around.
‘We may need a diversion on Thursday,’ said Leavey. ‘I made a mental note of where the fire alarms were.’
Tormo returned and said, ‘The director wasn’t keen on the idea at first but I assured him that you were a distinguished representative of the Analysts’ society and when he heard you were medically qualified he agreed.’
‘Thank you,’ said MacLean. ‘I look forward to it.’
Tormo glanced at Leavey and said, ‘I am afraid of course, that there is no question of allowing your colleague into the gallery.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Leavey. ‘I can’t stand the sight of blood.’
‘When will this happen?’ asked MacLean.
‘The director has kindly given you a choice,’ replied Tormo. ‘There are two scheduled operations tomorrow, one for breast implants and another for thigh liposuction. On Thursday there is only one, facial surgery for the removal of crows’ feet and a double chin.’
MacLean opted for the Thursday operation. If they were using Cytogerm it would be for the face job.
‘Very well,’ said Tormo.
They returned down the mountain and said their good-byes, arranging to meet again on Thursday morning.
‘You are not coming to my lab tomorrow?’ asked Tormo.
‘We have enough information and photographs to be going on with,’ said MacLean. ‘We’ll just fill in the details from your diary for tomorrow.’
Leavey and MacLean started to walk back to the apartment, both deep in thought and saying nothing until Leavey broke the silence and said, ‘That was all just too easy.’
‘Just what I was thinking,’ agreed MacLean.
‘They were all behaving as if they had nothing to hide and I suspect I know the reason,’ said Leavey.
‘Me too,’ said MacLean. ‘They have nothing to hide.’
‘But it must be the place,’ said Leavey.
‘So what is Lehman Steiner spending 18 million dollars on and where is Von Jonek?’
MacFarlane was keen to hear their news when they reached the apartment, particularly if they had found a role for him in the proceedings.
‘We’ve no doors for you to open Willie because they’re all being opened for us,’ said Leavey, saying that he was going to take a shower and leaving the room.
‘But surely it’s the place?’ said MacFarlane.
‘We’ve just been saying that ourselves,’ said MacLean. He told MacFarlane that he was being allowed to attend an operation on Thursday.
‘Another day of twiddling my thumbs then,’ said MacFarlane.
‘Maybe not Willie,’ said MacLean thoughtfully.
‘How so?’ asked MacFarlane.
MacLean told him of Tormo’s estate car and suggested that if he could secrete himself in the back of it on Thursday morning he could gain access to the Hacienda and be free to roam around while everyone else was inside. He suggested that he could check out the basement area, something neither he nor Leavey had managed to do.’
‘What am I looking for?’ asked MacFarlane.
‘Anything and everything,’ said MacLean.
On Thursday the weather reverted to blue skies and sunshine. They stopped for a while at the entrance to the Hacienda so that Leavey could take pictures of Tormo, briefcase in hand, smiling under the archway. He was anxious that Leavey should capture the name of the clinic in every shot. While this was going on, MacLean sneaked a look into the back of the Peugeot and saw that MacFarlane had made it.
SEVENTEEN
MacLean was escorted to the viewing gallery above the theatre by Tormo who had been informed by telephone that the operation would be starting shortly. Tormo returned to the lab and MacLean was left alone in the gallery. It was a strange feeling; for the first time in along time he wanted to be down there in the theatre, a part of the green-clad team who were preparing the patient. But he was an outsider now, separated from a world he doubted he would ever know again.
The patient was a woman in her mid thirties. MacLean recognised her as one of the confident, sophisticated ladies he had seen in the lounge on Monday but now she was devoid of make-up and controlled expression. She had the innocent vulnerability, which he had always found appealing in his own patients, a reminder of just how much a patient’s life was in a doctor’s hands.
The surgeon entered the theatre and acknowledged everyone including MacLean up in the gallery. MacLean nodded in reply and watched as the man began to sketch lines on the patient’s face with a marker pen. He noticed how the flabby area under her chin resisted the advance of the pen, obliging him to tighten it artificially by pinching it tight with his other hand.
With all the guide lines drawn in, the surgeon checked with the anaesthetist that all was well and made the first incision. MacLean leaned forward in his seat, anxious not to miss the smallest detail. Within fifteen minutes he knew that Cytogerm was not going to feature in the operation. The man working below him was not just a surgeon, he was an artist and his admiration for him was only tempered by his bitter disappointment at not having found what he was looking for.
He watched the man work through the tiniest of incisions so as to make the scar as small as possible and then disguise even that with the finest of needlework. What a waste, he thought that so much talent should be being squandered on such inconsequential surgery.
As the operation came to an end and the patient was wheeled out to the recovery room, MacLean caught the surgeon’s eye and conveyed his admiration with a smile and nod. What he really wanted to do was stand up and applaud. He returned to the lab upstairs and feigned interest in what Tormo was doing until the blood tests had been completed for the day. Leavey knew without being told that MacLean had failed to find the Cytogerm. When Tormo left the room for a moment he asked about tackling the Pharmacy.
‘They’re not using Cytogerm,’ said MacLean flatly. ‘There’s no point.’
Tormo finished his work at the clinic a bit sooner than MacLean had anticipated and he and Leavey had to invent excuses for delaying their departure in order to give Willie MacFarlane time to get back to the car. They were still stalling as they left the Hacienda and came down the steps to the car park. MacLean turned and looked up at the cliff face, towering above the clinic and at the massive rock overhang that ran like a lip round the top. ‘I wouldn’t like to attempt that climb,’ he said.
‘It would be impossible,’ agreed Tormo.
‘Maybe if you were to make an approach from the left,’ suggested Leavey, ‘It just might be on. You could miss the worst of the overhang but even at that… ‘
MacLean looked at him and saw with a shiver that he was serious. ‘I think I’d rather not have to try,’ he said.
When they had delayed as much as they felt they could. They walked over to the car and MacLean managed to get a look through the back window while Tormo got in. MacFarlane wasn’t there! He looked at Leavey and shook his head slightly to convey the information. Leavey reacted quickly and slapping his hand to his forehead, he
