“Speaking of the Gadget, we also have to get it back from Stalo or destroy it,” Nat said as he stood. “Preferably with Stalo attached.”
Anouk’s stomach clenched. Not because of the food or the nausea, but from the reminder of what needed to be done. “Have I said yet that hunting Stalo sounds like a suicide mission?”
“That’s the spirit.” Nat grinned and headed towards the front door.
* * *
The two unlicensed doctors they visited first hadn’t treated any man fitting the description of Stalo… or they didn’t admit they had. Nat had been satisfied that they were telling the truth.
He knocked on the door of the third illegal clinic. Like the other two clinics, it didn’t have any sign or symbol marking it as a medical establishment.
If this one also fell through, they would have to widen their range. Both wondered how far Stalo would have gone with his injury.
She stood behind Nat on the doorstep, looking up and down the narrow street. The terraced houses were shabby with crumbling mortar and soot-smeared walls. Many windows were covered with boards or rags to block out the elements. More than one door sagged, in danger of falling off their hinges by the force of passing wagons rattling through the narrow lane. The street itself, the vein through the misery, was paved with stinking litter. A combination of decomposing rubbish, urine and burning coal overwhelmed Anouk’s senses. She tried covering her nose and then breathing through her mouth, but soon decided against that—she could taste the stench. Anouk gagged.
Nat looked over his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just this God-awful smell.” Anouk wrinkled her nose.
“Better get used to it.”
“Thanks a lot,” Anouk muttered, and continued observing the street.
A group of children, mere skin and bone with swollen bellies, stared at them. The sight of the ragged snotty-faced kids twisted Anouk’s heart. She smiled at them but the children sprang indoors at sight of her well-meant gesture.
“I think I scared them.”
“They learn to fear strangers from a young age in places like this,” Nat replied, and knocked on the door again.
A shuffle came from behind the door. “Who is it?” an angry nasal male voice demanded.
“We wish to consult Dr Arnar on a medical issue,” Nat called, his voice dripping with honey.
“You have come to the wrong place. If you need medical advice, go see a doctor.”
“The issue is so delicate we wish to avoid licenced health professionals.” The man didn’t reply, so Nat continued, “A friend recommended you. He said you are the best at dealing with such medical concerns and assured me of your discretion.” Nat winked at Anouk. That sounded like a lie. She doubted Nat’s attempts at persuasion would have any effect.
No reply came. Nat pressed his ear on the door then cursed under his breath and stepped away from the door.
“What’s happening?”
“He’s trying to escape,” Nat growled and aimed a sharp heel kick just below the knob.
The door flung open with a loud crash. Nat charged in, Anouk behind him and they entered a dim-lit narrow hall. A scrawny grey-haired man spun on his heels, an umbrella in his hand. He lifted it up and tried to hit Nat, who snatched it from the man with ease.
“You can’t barge in like that,” the man protested, naked fear in his eyes. “I’ll call the enforcers.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it, Dr Arnar.” Although Nat’s tone was calm, there was a hint of threat. “You don’t want to get enforcers looking any closer at your unlicensed practice.”
Dr Arnar froze. “What do you want?”
“Some information. That’s all.”
All fight vanished from Dr Arnar and his shoulders slumped. “We’d better go to my study. Please, close the door.”
Anouk nodded and pushed it shut. A knot twisted her stomach. Did Dr Arnar’s attempt to escape and his wary tone mean he knew why they were there? Was Stalo hiding here? And what would happen next? She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. Mistake… the stuffiness of the air assaulted her lungs and made her cough.
“Are you alright?” Nat asked. “He might be able to help you.”
“No, thanks,” she croaked, and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. Any medicine prepared in this place would most likely sicken her further or hasten her departure not only from this world, but hers as well. “I’ll be fine.”
They followed Dr Arnar to his study at the back of the house. The same worn out dark carpet led up the stairs and onto the second floor. Anouk shuddered at the stained green wallpaper and made a mental note not to touch anything. Dr Arnar’s eyes darted to the stairs as if checking that no one was there before closing the door.
The study was small and as grimy and untidy as the hallway. Shelves full of jars, papers, brass boxes and strange looking instruments covered the walls. At the far end a desk and chair were squeezed between two shelves reaching from floor to ceiling. A metallic operating table stood in the middle of the room and above it hung an electric lamp like a lure on an anglerfish’s head. The study reminded Anouk more of a torture chamber than a doctor’s office. The odour hanging in the space was a combination of blood, urine and antiseptics. Anouk pinched her nose and tried again breathing through her mouth, but started to cough once more. Nat gave her another curious look.
“I’m good, I’m good,” she hurried to assure him.
Dr Arnar sat at his desk and waved at the two stools next to the desk. “Please, be seated.”
“No, thank you. We won’t take much of your time.”
Anouk thanked him in her mind. If she had not wanted to touch anything in the hallway,
