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.""Oui, monsieur.Notre plaisir.Je suis heureuse de pouvoir etre a meme de vous aider.Votre infirmiere de 1'Auxiliare Medical est arrivee." A few moments later, Adrian arrived at the ambulance, accompanied by the agency nurse.He helped her into the back."Drive very slowly and carefully to the harbour."James nodded and set off at funereal pace."Nurse Faubert.""Yes, Docteur Barker." Her hands were tucked primly under her blue cape, and her French accent was enchanting.Adrian thought Harvey would not find her ministrations unwelcome."My patient has just had an operation for the removal of a gallstone and will need plenty of rest."With that Adrian took out of his pocket a gallstone the size of an orange with a hospital tag on it which read "Harvey Metcalfe." Adrian had in fact acquired the huge stone from St.Thomas's Hospital, the original owner being a six foot six West Indian bus conductor on the number 14 route.Stephen and Jean Pierre stared at it in disbelief.The nurse checked her new charge's pulse and respiration."Were I your patient, Nurse Faubert," said Jean Pierre, "I should take good care never to recover."When they arrived at the yacht Adrian had briefed the nurse on diet and rest, and told her that he would be round to see his patient at eleven o'clock the next morning.They left him sleeping soundly in his large cabin, stewards and staff clucking attentively.James drove the other three back to the hospital and deposited the ambulance in the car park, and the keys with reception.The four of them headed back to the hotel by separate routes.Adrian was the last to arrive at Room 217, just after 3:30 A.M.He fell into an armchair."Will you allow me a whisky, Stephen?""Yes, of course.""Good God, he meant it," said Adrian, and downed a large Johnnie Walker before handing the bottle to Jean Pierre."He will be all right?" said James."You sound quite concerned for him.Yes, he can have his ten stitches out in a week's time and all he'll have is a nasty scar to brag about to his friends.I must get to bed.I have to see him at eleven o'clock tomorrow and the confrontation may well be harder than the operation.You were all great tonight.My God, am I glad we had those sessions at St.Thomas's.If you are ever out of work and I need a a croupier, a driver and an anaesthetist, I will ring for you."The others left and Adrian collapsed on his bed, exhausted.He fell into a deep sleep and woke just after eight o'clock to discover he was still fully dressed.That had not happened to him since his days as a young houseman, when he had been on night duty after a fourteen-hour day without a break.Adrian had a long, soothing bath in very hot water.He dressed and put on a new shirt and suit, ready for his face-to-face meeting with Harvey Metcalfe.His newly acquired moustache and rimless glasses, and the success of the operation made him feel a little like the famous surgeon he was impersonating.The other three all appeared during the next hour to wish him luck and elected to wait in Room 217 for his return.Stephen booked them all out of the hotel and arranged the flight to London for late that afternoon.Adrian left, again taking the staircase rather than the lift.Once outside the hotel, he walked a little way before hailing a taxi to take him to the harbour.It was not hard to find Messenger Boy.She was a gleaming, newly painted joo-footer lying at the east end of the harbour.She sported a massive Panamanian flag on her stern mast, which Adrian assumed must be for tax purposes.He ascended the gangplank and was met by Nurse Faubert."Bonjour, Docteur Barker.""Good morning, nurse.How is Mr.Metcalfe?""He has had a very peaceful night and is having a light breakfast and making a few telephone calls.Would you like to see him now?""Yes, please."Adrian entered the magnificent cabin and faced the man he had spent eight weeks plotting and planning against.He was talking into the telephone:"Yes, I'm fine, dear.But it was an A1 emergency at the time all right Don't worry, I'll live." And he put the telephone down."Doctor Barker, I have just spoken to my wife in Massachusetts and told her that I owe you my life.Even at five o'clock in the morning she seemed pleased.I understand that I had a private ward, private surgery, private ambulance and that you saved my life, or that's what it says in Nice Matin."There was the old picture of Harvey in Bermuda shorts on the deck of Messenger Boy, familiar to Adrian from his dossier.The headline read "Millionaire s'evanouit au Casino" over "La Vie d'un Millionaire Americain a etc Sauve par une Operation Urgente Dramatique!" Stephen would be pleased."Tell me, Doctor," said Harvey with relish, "was I really in danger?""Well, you were on the critical list, and the consequences might have been fairly serious if we hadn't got this out of you." Adrian removed the inscribed gallstone from his pocket with a flourish.Harvey's eyes grew large as saucers."Gee, have I really been walking round with that inside me all this time? Isn't that something! I can't thank you enough.If I ever can do anything for you, don't hesitate to call on me." He offered Adrian a grape."Look, you're going to see me through this thing, aren't you? I don't think the nurse fully appreciates the gravity of my case."Adrian thought fast."I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr.Metcalfe.My holiday finishes today.I have to get back to California.Nothing urgent: just a few elective surgeries and a rather heavy lecture schedule." He shrugged deprecatingly."Nothing very earth-shattering about it, but it helps me keep up a way of life I have grown accustomed to."Harvey sat bolt upright, tenderly holding his stomach."Now, you listen to me, Doctor Barker.I don't give a damn about a few hernias.I'm a sick man and I need you here.I'll make it worth your while to stay, don't you worry.I never grudge the money where my health is concerned, and what's more I'll make the cheque cash.The last thing I want Uncle Sam to know is how much I'm worth."Adrian coughed delicately, wondering how American doctors approached the ticklish subject of fees with their patients."It would cost you a lot of money if I'm not to be out of pocket by staying.Say a hundred thousand dollars."Harvey didn't blink."Sure.You're the best.That's not a lot of money to be alive.""Very well.I'll get back to my hotel and see if I can rearrange my schedule for you."Adrian retreated from the sickroom and the white Rolls Royce took him back to the hotel.In Room 217 they sat staring at Adrian."Stephen, for Christ's sake, the man's a raving hypochondriac.He wants me to stay on here for his convalescence."He recounted his conversation with Harvey Metcalfe verbatim."We hadn't planned for this.What the hell shall we do?" Stephen looked up coolly."You'll stay here and play ball.Why not give him value for money—at his own expense, of course [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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