by Ian Fox
“What are you doing? Let me go!” she screamed.
“Don’t scream, no one will hear you anyway. We’re just having a bit of fun, that’s all. You’ll like it, you’ll see.”
“Put me down!”
“This will be an unforgettable night, I assure you.”
She started beating his face with her hands. “I want you to let me go!”
As there were too many blows, he had no choice but to put her down. He wrapped his arm round her and again picked her up like a bag of cement and carried her to the bedroom.
“Stop trying to resist,” he said as he lay her down on the king-size bed. “Can’t you see I’m stronger? You don’t have the slightest chance.” He rolled on top her.
It felt like he weighed a few hundred pounds. “Help!” she cried. “Hel—”
He covered her mouth. “You’re going to spoil everything!” Lifting himself up to undress her, he started undoing her buttons.
That’s when Helen knew it was for real. If she didn’t resist him with all her might, he would most certainly rape her and afterward might even kill her. She feverishly thought about what to do.
She turned like a cat, so that she had her back to him.
“Now look at that,” Robert said, smiling. “You want it from behind?”
She jerked onto her knees and with all her might straightened up. Being on the edge of the bed and not expecting it, he toppled over onto the parquet. The bang was so loud she thought he would never get up again.
Helen reckoned wrongly, though, and he was soon up on all fours. She noticed a glow in his eyes, telling her that the game wasn’t over yet.
She scrambled to her feet, ran out of the room, and in less than five seconds made it to the front door. She desperately tugged at the doorknob, but the door was locked. Turning, she saw him moving toward her, grunting noisily. She had no choice but to pick up a glass ashtray that was on the table and throw it at him. “Come near me and I’ll kill you!” The ashtray missed him by a fraction and ended on the wall, where it broke into a thousand pieces.
Clearly, she was dealing with a madman. But how could she rescue herself from this awful situation? “Why did you lock me in? Where’s the key? Give me the key now or I’ll smash everything I can lay my hands on. You’d better believe it!” She picked up a small green porcelain statue and flung it at him.
While jumping aside so that it barely missed him Robert let out an incredible, high-pitched sound, like a ravished woman. “You fucking bitch! I brought that statue from China. You’ll pay for that.”
Helen next seized an elegant porcelain lighter, but before she could throw it at him he grabbed her hips and was again dragging her toward the bedroom, covering her mouth with his hand to stop her from screaming.
As he was dragging her along the hall, she found a way to resist. She lifted her legs and pushed against the wall. She did it so quickly that he crashed into the wall on the other side of the hall. Then she thrust her hands back, hitting him in the ribs. He let go of her immediately.
She ran down the stairs, into the basement. That wasn’t the best idea, but at that moment she just wanted to get away. She thought she might be able to escape through a basement window.
She opened the first door and caught sight of lots of different brooms, plastic bowls, an ironing table, an iron, and cleaning things. She picked up a mop with a metal handle that might come in handy.
Helen opened the other door and before her was an unbelievably large room. The light coming from the other end told her there may be a window within. She frantically looked for the light switch but couldn’t find one. Turning, she saw him right behind her, reaching for her. His eyes were smiling.
She swung the metal handle at him. Robert Miner moved out of the way, but not enough and received a blow to the shoulder. “Damn, you got me again! You’re quite a fighter. I can’t believe how much that turns me on.” Again he made his way toward her. “Don’t go into that room, please!”
She did exactly what he told her not to. She entered the room because to her it was the only way of getting away from him. She would have done anything to make him stop touching her. To her surprise the light came on. Obviously it was equipped with a sensor. But this light wasn’t white and bright, but blood-red and thick, so the shapes in the room were barely visible.
“I told you not to go in there!”
With astonishment she gaped at the thick chains that hung along the wall. In some places they were equipped with long spikes. She noticed a leather dog collar on the chain. There was an old wooden chest on which stood a lot of metal pincers. She also noticed a large plastic dildo. When her eyes got used to the light, she saw more weird devices, which were obviously for torture.
“You’re sick,” she said to him.
“I equipped this room a little while ago. You shouldn’t have come in here.”
“Leave me alone. What do you want from me?”
He started toward her, and she was scared that he would grab her. She swung the metal handle, but to her regret it got caught in the chains hanging from the ceiling. Miner was already beside her while she was trying to free it.
“Don’t resist, darling, because I’m going to go mad.”
She hit his face. She had already given in to the fact that he was going to grab her.
“You hit me!” Holding his cheek he looked at her like a scared child. For a moment, she even thought he was trembling. Immediately she hit him again.
Again he looked at her with fear in his eyes and cried out slightly. However, the cry wasn’t from fear or physical pain, more like some kind of relief.
She hit his cheek with her hand a third time, with all her strength, turning his head.
“Why are you hitting me?” he asked her, shaking. “I haven’t done anything to you. Please, stop hitting me!”
She suddenly realized what she was dealing with. Her sweater was hampering her movements so she took it off and slapped his face again. She noticed saliva drooling grossly from his mouth.
Then the blows came one after another. The more she hit him, the softer he became. Instead of defending himself, he stood there, utterly still and begging with his eyes for her to keep going. But that was the last thing on her mind.
She stopped after three minutes, when she saw his body had started to throb in time with his heartbeat and he lifted his hand, wanting her to go on. Only then did she realize there was blood coming from his nose.
She could hardly straighten up. She looked at him scornfully, trying to catch her breath.
He said, “Never … really, never have I … never have I had such a good time. You’re absolutely wonderful. I’ll pay you however much you want.”
“What? You’ll pay me? Do you realize how sick you are?”
“Wait! Don’t be scared!” He crawled toward a black chest and opened it. His checkbooks and a pen were hidden inside. He quickly filled in a check and gave it to her. He was scared she’d get away from him. “There you are! I hope five thousand dollars will repay all your effort. You really are heavenly.”
He’d had violent sex with women before, paying them well. None of them had ever reported him to the police.
She took the check and examined it. It was like he said. She grimaced, disgusted with the creature in front of her. For a moment she felt like finding a hard object and hitting him on the head with it, knocking him out. With a cool voice she asked, “Where are the keys to the outside door?”
He was still catching his breath. “In the second drawer of the first cabinet on the right, next to the front door. You can’t miss it.”
Helen bit her lower lip, thinking about what to do with this disgusting creature. If she could, she would vomit on him, that’s how disgusting she found him.
Then she thought of something. She picked up the plastic dildo. His eyes, which were following her, opened wide.
“Wwwhat … are you planning on doing?”
“I feel like killing you. Do you reali
ze how much you scared me?”
Robert lowered his head back, his eyes fixed on the dildo and the closer it got, the more he shook. “I didn’t mean to scare you …”
“But you did scare me.” She seized his hair and stuffed the check into his mouth. She grasped the dildo and shoved it down his throat. “Swallow your goddamn check. Swallow it!”
Although he was suffocating, he nodded obediently. He managed to say, “But your money …”
She pushed even harder. “Swallow it! You goddamn scum! You should be locked up.”
When, with great difficulty, he managed to swallow the lump of paper, she got up, put on her sweater, and without looking at him, left the basement.
The key was where he said it would be. She unlocked the door and left the house.
She started crying only a few yards away. She thought about getting a taxi to the police station, but then she wondered how she’d explain it to Simon. How could I tell him I was looking for a new relationship and found some mad bastard who nearly raped me? No, I couldn’t tell him that.
Helen hurried on without even knowing where she was heading until she saw a group of young boys staring at her, wondering why she was crying. She rapidly pulled herself together and hailed the first taxi that drove by. When the driver asked where she wanted to go, she thought of the police again. But firmly shaking her head she gave him her home address.
“I want to go home to Simon,” she added quietly so the driver couldn’t hear her.
Chapter 29
_______________________
“Finally, we’re all present. I think we can start now. How’s the anesthetic, Dr. Carter. Is the patient ready yet?”
“I need only another half a minute. Then you can start.”
Dr. Patterson also asked, “How about allergies?”
“The patient isn’t allergic to anything.”
“Anything else I should know?”
Dr. Anita Carter didn’t want to look at him. She could feel his reproachful eyes on her. “No, nothing special.”
“Good. Just the kind of patients I like.” He smiled slightly to himself.
A woman, forty-two years old, was lying face down on the operating table, with her legs bent below her knees. The nurse had put extra cushioning under her stomach and knees, making it easier to get at her back to operate. The patient was suffering from sciatica: the pressure on her nerve caused by a slipped disc was causing her pain.
Dr. Patterson looked at Dr. Duncan. “How about you lead the surgery today and I assist?”
Jerry Duncan nodded and took the place where Simon usually sat. He looked at the main instrument nurse and extended his hand, saying: “Scalpel, please.”
Twenty seconds later he made an incision on the patient’s lower back. Anita Carter watched proudly, avoiding Simon Patterson’s eyes. The skin into which he had cut immediately started bleeding profusely. Jerry Duncan tried to stem the flow.
“Lower the pressure,” Simon Patterson ordered Anita. “Or we won’t stop the bleeding until tomorrow.”
Jerry Duncan looked at Anita and nodded, and then with a coagulation clamp in place, he continued his work.
When the bleeding was finally stopped, he slowly cut through the muscle and moved it away from the bone. Then the bleeding needed to be stopped again.
With a special retractor Jerry Duncan separated the musculature to reveal the spinal column. What followed was the most unpleasant part of the operation, when part of the spine had to be snipped off and later filed with an electric drill. In this way he could get at the nerves. Simon Patterson took care of rinsing and cleaning the incision.
Part of the slipped disc was already visible. Jerry Duncan gripped it with pincers and partially pulled it out. The part that remained had to be scraped out. Simon Patterson was on watch the whole time to see that everything proceeded normally. He kept looking at the monitors and checking things as if he had no faith in the chief anesthesiologist.
When the intervertebral disc had been completely removed, Jerry Duncan withdrew the retractor so that the muscle returned to its previous position. He stitched the muscles that had been cut at the start of the operation.
Finally he had to stitch the wound. The whole operation had taken two hours.
In the corridor Jerry asked Dr. Patterson, “What did you think?”
Simon’s thoughts were elsewhere. “What? I don’t follow.” Then he clicked his fingers. “Oh, of course, the operation. Very good. I have no particular comments.”
That made Jerry bolder. “You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for some time.”
“Now?” Simon looked at his watch. “Why not? Come into my office.”
Jerry felt so nervous that he had goose bumps. This time he was determined to talk to him about a promotion. He had thought a great deal about what Anita had said and was increasingly convinced she was right. It was all about money.
When they were in the office, Simon invited Jerry to sit. Simon positioned himself at the window and folded his arms like a teacher. “So, why did you want to talk to me?”
“I’d like … I wanted …”
“Yes?” Again he looked at his watch.
“Um, how can I put this? … Are you satisfied with me?”
Simon Patterson wrinkled his forehead. “What do you mean? I’m not sure I understand.”
“Well, if you’re satisfied with me in general.”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Jerry swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat. He turned his head right and left as if his collar was too tight. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I’m really sure that it’s time I became an associate surgeon. You know, no longer an assistant.”
“Ah, so that’s it?”
“Yes.”
Simon Patterson’s face darkened. “And why do you think you’re ready to work on your own?”
At first he didn’t know how to reply. “I don’t know, I thought …”
“Listen, being an associate surgeon means that perhaps from tomorrow you would do all the operations yourself. Do you realize what a responsibility that is?”
“Yes, I’m aware of that and I thought …”
“I’ll say this, Dr. Duncan. You know yourself that operating on a person isn’t like fixing a car. There is simply no room for error.”
Jerry opened his mouth to say something. It annoyed him that he was being spoken to like a schoolboy. “I, um …”
“Any mistake could mean the loss of the patient or at least serious long-term consequences.”
“Yes, but—”
“There is something I feel you do not have. Do you want to know what?”
Jerry sat there increasingly downcast and angry. “What?”
“I feel no sense of certainty. Every time you make an incision you think about it a great deal. A number of times, I’ve noticed that at the start of the operation your hand is trembling. Which means you still haven’t overcome your fear.”
“That may be true, but it’s because of you.”
“Because of me? There’s really no need to be afraid of me. At the end of the day, only the patient matters.” He shook his head. “I somehow wouldn’t dare to leave you alone for a serious operation. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I’m afraid that sometimes you don’t believe in yourself. For example, every time there’s a complication you turn to me for what to do.”
“I do that because you’re in charge.”
“Yes, yes, but if you want to be independent, you have to make independent decisions, don’t you?”
Jerry was staring angrily. “I really don’t see what the problem is, as we more or less always operate together.”
“That’s true, but what if I were to decide to change my job tomorrow? If you were an associate surgeon, it may happen that you’d have to operate on your own for months. Do you realize what a responsibility that is? If you’re an assistant, then they’d have to find someone else to replace
me.”
“There’s no sense talking any further. I see that the answer is no.”
Simon Patterson leaned on his desk. “I’m sorry I can’t say otherwise. You need another year or two’s experience. Maybe three, to be really independent. I’m sorry, but that’s how it is.”
Jerry bit his bottom lip. “Fine, if that’s how it is, I’ll carry on as assistant.” He stood up and went toward the door.
Simon Patterson looked after him with a slight feeling of regret, yet firmly convinced that what he’d said was right. “Good-bye, Dr. Duncan.”
“Good-bye, Dr. Patterson.”
As Jerry Duncan was waiting in the elevator, such a feeling of rage built up inside him that he felt he would explode. Still wearing his white coat he left the hospital and ran into the nearby park. He needed fresh air; he felt he was suffocating between the white hospital walls.
Two hundred yards farther on he took off his white coat and threw it in a trash can. He hated Dr. Patterson so much that he could have grabbed him by the collar, lifted him in the air, and thrown him on the ground. He would thrash him, throttle him. He would wring his damn neck until—.
Jerry saw his father’s image in front of him. He put his fingers around his father’s neck and squeezed. He hated him from the bottom of his heart. He was so angry with him he couldn’t stop. He had to go to the bitter end. He had to squeeze the life out of him. He had to kill him.
Putting his hand to his forehead, Jerry wondered how many years it had been since he’d last thought of his father. Five, ten, fifteen? Jerry thought that unpleasant incident had been wiped from his memory.
He stopped and leaned forward, remembering his childhood: his mother standing by in sinister silence while he did it. She could have grabbed his hands, she could have shouted, anything. But no, she let him kill his own father.
He was barely fifteen years old at the time.
He had attacked his father because he could no longer bear the way his father treated his mother, forever insulting and humiliating her. The blows fell one after the other and his mother had taken them all.
