by Peter Kozmar
How did the good doctor end up here?
The man continued, “They didn’t understand the full potential of my work and do you know how they repaid me?” Before Andy could answer, he carried on, “They sent me to Broadmoor! Did you know it’s a high security psychiatric hospital? They didn’t want to let me out.” That’s just great, I’m strapped to a chair with Scarface and a lunatic … could it get any worse!
“So how did you get out?” Andy enquired calmly.
“Would you believe it if I told you they let me walk out? No, but they did, I quickly left the country and returned to Russia where I practiced at a state hospital for a few years.” He edged closer to Andy, “Then the hospital administration noticed that my patient mortality figures were significantly higher than the other hospital doctors and, after a rather protracted complicated procedure, they sacked me.”
“Maybe a statistical anomaly?” Andy offered optimistically, hoping he could keep the lunatic talking rather than using him as a play thing with his power tools and animal friends.
“No,” the doctor said as he held a small pen torch and shone it into each of Andy’s eyes, “it was all true. Across all of the doctors at the hospital, for every one of theirs to die, seven of mine would. It was pretty impressive, particularly the ones who were recovering nicely from minor ailments, you see, I had a thing about playing god.” He turned the torch off and smiled, then he said three words that made Andy’s blood run cold, “I still do.”
“So what happened at the hospital?” Andy enquired, he wasn’t sure how he was going to avoid what was going to happen next, but the doctor seemed happy enough to answer his questions and that bought him time.
“They didn’t want their reputation damaged or have any adverse publicity. I didn’t want to go to jail. We agreed I’d leave the hospital and the city, hence the move to Saint Petersburg. I quickly set up my own private practice from the money the hospital paid me. By good fortune, I started to treat members of the different Mafia and their families. One family found out why I’d left Moscow and we came to an arrangement. They set me up here and provided me with a steady flow of clients so I could … how do you say … refine my art. As the doctor to more than one Mafia family, I agreed with my benefactor I would slowly poison their rivals, children and all. It was so easy and I never had any complaints,” he chuckled to himself as he continued, “how could they, they were all dead!” At that he let out a blood curdling laugh.
“You’re a monster. You see this as art?” Andy’s tone couldn’t hide his disgust.
“Yes, it is art!” the doctor stated, clearly riled that Andy had the audacity to challenge his life’s work. “Firstly, I discover what my victim values most. I learn about their fears. I learn whether they are academic or practical, therefore which capabilities they value more than others. Then the real fun starts as I use this information to decide how to proceed. Which tools to use? How much pain can my victim tolerate? How do I keep them conscious for longer? How do I stop them dying too early? That’s art,” then, as an afterthought, he said, “as a bonus I’ve been able to keep pursuing my genetic research.” Andy didn’t want to know what he meant by that.
“What’s Igor’s role in this?” Andy said nodding in the direction of Scarface who had walked out of view.
“This is Andrei. He’s my … apprentice. One day he will be able to continue my art and, maybe, take it to a new level. That would make me proud.”
“What’s going to happen to me?”
“I’m disappointed,” the doctor’s expression became one of sadness and he shook his head, “the instructions I have received for you were quite specific, so I don’t have the opportunity to practice my art on you. Such a pity, I think it would have been a new experience for you, well for a little while at least!” He waved his arm around the room, “Well, if I can’t kill you on my terms, maybe we can have some fun anyway.”
“What do you mean?” the knot in Andy’s stomach tightened at the thought of a psychopathic doctor having ‘fun’ with him. He tried hard to keep his voice level but there was a huge lump in his throat that made getting his words out so much harder.
“I’m going to give you the curse of life!” the doctor said as he looked Andy, his eyes betrayed his excitement as the moment had arrived to begin. He rummaged in the deep pockets of his white coat and removed a syringe. Next, he produced a large needle which he unwrapped and attached to the syringe. He carefully filled the syringe with a clear liquid from a vile marked ‘Spinnaker15A’.
Andy felt a sharp pain as he watched the doctor jab the needle into his upper left arm and squeeze its contents into him. His arm throbbed as pain radiated out from the point the needle had been inserted. “See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” the doctor patted him gently on his cheek.
Andrei returned carrying a short rubber tube and funnel. The doctor turned away, walked to a tall grey metal cabinet and opened it. Andy couldn’t make out what he was searching for, but it became clear moments later when he returned waving a large bottle of Bourbon at him. “Thanks, but really there’s no need to celebrate. You could just untie me and let me go. No harm. No foul. Everyone is good,” Andy couldn’t conceal the nervousness in his voice. The doctor just smiled and nodded at Andrei.
Andrei towered over Andy, his anvil-sized hand held Andy’s jaw in a vice-like grip, forcing his mouth open. He roughly pushed one end of the thick rubber tube into Andy’s mouth ramming it firmly down his throat. Andy put his head back thrusting his chin towards the ceiling hoping to straighten the path of the tube down his throat. He felt terror, his heart raced and his head spun, a sickening taste of gasoline from the tube erupted in his mouth, causing him to gag several times. Andrei stopped then he was satisfied he had inserted enough tube to reach its intended target.
Andy watched helplessly as Andrei used his free hand to attach the funnel to the end of the tube and raised it high above Andy’s head to straighten the tube. His eyes flicked across to the doctor who was watching him as he slowly unscrewed the cap on the Bourbon bottle before pouring the golden liquid into the funnel. Powerless, Andy couldn’t stop them. Although the liquid didn’t touch his throat, he could feel it fill and warm his belly. He watched through tears at the empty bottle.
“Very good. We will soon be finished,” the doctor placed the empty bottle on the table and returned with an uncapped half bottle of whisky. He started to pour the spirit into the funnel. Andy didn’t want to drink he knew it would probably kill him. They knew his weakness, and knew no one would bother about the death of an alcoholic. The papers, if they were tipped off, would probably report that he was an alcoholic who drank himself to death.
With the half bottle empty, he started to feel the effects of the alcohol in his system. He welcomed the familiar warm and comforting feeling the alcohol gave him, but the false sense of confidence which normally developed with each drink was missing. Instead, he felt terror and fear numbed by the effects of the alcohol, he’d been here before, after all he was just another drunken bum at the bar. His vision started to blur and he struggled to focus on the two men in front of him.
“I think we’ll give that a few minutes to work and then you’ll be on your way,” he heard the doctor say as he waved the bottle at Andy, but Andy’s eyes couldn’t focus and he struggled to read the label. The doctor filled in the blanks, “An Aberlour, Highland Single Malt Whisky, very nice and smooth, sadly, it’s a complete waste on you.” Andy tried to respond, but the pipe caused him to gag. With the funnel empty, the doctor slowly pulled the tube from Andy’s throat, enjoying the power he wielded.
“Andrei, go tell the others that Mr Flint will be ready very shortly,” Andrei left the room and the doctor leaned in, so Andy could just about hear him as he spoke in a gentle whisper, “This is moment when, as we are on our own, I confide in you to tell you it’s not over and I help you escape.”
Is the old man trying to help me? Andy was confused, maybe there is hope after all. Maybe I’m not
going to die here today.
The doctor smiled at Andy as he saw the ray of hope flicker in his eyes, “Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen and you are going to die very shortly.”
His throat felt sore, he wanted to vomit. The room spun, his eyes struggled to focus and stay locked on anything. Andy was aware that Andrei had returned with backup, but couldn’t figure out how many there were. He felt the restraints slacken off and slip away. Firm hands gripped him and pulled him up from the chair. The handcuffs were unlocked and removed.
Instinctively, Andy brought his hands forward in front of him and rubbed each wrist in turn, to help the circulation flow again. Andy was confused and couldn’t figure out what they were doing. “Have a look at the labels, see what you’ve been drinking,” the doctor prompted handing the empty bottles to Andy. Andy tried to read each of the labels, however, the writing wouldn’t stay still as it appeared to move around. “Turn them around, see if you can read the back,” the doctor suggested.
Andy carefully followed the advice and turned each bottle desperately trying to read the rear label, however, the print was even smaller than on the front. Why is he asking me to read the labels? It didn’t make sense, but he continued with the task, which only puzzled him further. Why am I doing this? He was completely at their mercy.
“I think you’ve done great, thank you, but now it’s time to take those off you,” the doctor gently prised the bottles from Andy’s grip and, with his gloved hands, carefully placed them in a large clear plastic bag. He was vaguely aware this meant his fingerprints would be the only ones on the bottles, but had no idea why that was important or how it could be used against him. He didn’t care.
He slumped as his legs could no longer support him, but felt more pairs of hands hold on to him and keep him upright. He felt the room spinning and he wanted to lie down … to make it stop. The doctor handed the plastic bag to someone wearing black, it could have been squeaky Andrei, Andy couldn’t be certain. The doctor approached again and placed his hands onto Andy’s shoulders and moved them onto either side of his neck. Andy could feel gentle pressure applied to his neck.
The last word Andy heard before unconsciousness took hold was: “Goodnight”.
CHAPTER 40
“WAKE UP! THEY’RE COMING!” the loud voice jarred Andy from his deep sleep. “WAKE UP!” the Russian voice persisted with urgency. His face stung as someone slapped him. “WAKE UP!” the sharp stinging pain from slaps and the shouting brought Andy back to a sort of weary conscious state, but he couldn’t focus it was all a blur. He felt bad, really bad. I’m still drunk. Is it dark or am I in the basement? What’s happening? Confused and disorientated he tried to make sense of his surroundings.
“Where am I?” Andy murmured.
“THEY’RE COMING. GO NOW!” the Russian voice screamed at him.
His brain slowly processed more information, as his hands rested on a steering wheel. He heard the idling sounds of a car engine. He tried to make sense of his surroundings, but his mind was still in a drunken fog. A man leaned through the window, then slapped his face and barked at him again.
“They’re coming for you. GO! NOW! GET OUT! It’s your only chance to escape, come on, you have to get out. GO!” The man stepped away from the car and removed a pistol from his shoulder holster and fired two rounds into the air. The muzzle flashes briefly lit up the night sky. Behind the car an SUV blared its horn, revved its engine and flashed its lights, blinding Andy.
Andy tried to connect the dots. I’m in a car. They are after me and will kill me. I have to escape. Who’s helping me? Why? I’m drunk, very drunk.
The man who slapped him shouted again as the SUV flashed its lights, “See they’re coming. Now go!” Andy didn’t need any further encouragement. He looked down and realized the car was a manual. Putting the car into first gear he accelerated with too much gas causing the front wheels to spin and kick up dirt. The car slid wildly from side to side as he tried to control it, change gears and somehow focus on the road.
The car lights carved a path through the darkness to reveal a sheer rise to the left and a cliff edge to the right. The narrow dirt road had no safety barriers as he headed on a slight downhill. Before he took the first bend, Andy looked in the mirror to see the man, who’d been shouting at him moments earlier, climb into the SUV. Andy took the bend easily and with over-confidence he pushed down on the gas. The car swerved from side to side as Andy tried to drive with his dulled senses. The road straightened. Andy pressed down harder on the gas. After several seconds Andy could make out an approaching bend to the left. The lights from the SUV and two other vehicles flashed into view in his mirror. They’re following me.
He took the bend and pushed down harder again. Andy fought with the wheel as the car struggled to stay on the dirt road. The road had a right bend which he took too fast, the car slew sideways only just missing the steep cutting to the left. The beams from his car lights pierced the darkness. He saw the road make a sharp left and realized he was going too fast. He hit the brakes and turned the wheel hard left to avoid driving off the road and into the darkness below. The car lost traction and started to spin. In his confused and drunken state Andy pulled the wheel even harder to the left causing the car to spin more tightly as it went through a one eighty. With the car still spinning he took his foot off the brake and hit the accelerator.
The car completed a three-sixty and, more by luck than skill, somehow avoided going over the large drop to his right. The car stopped spinning and straightened up. Accelerating away, his tail lights lit up the dust cloud left in his wake. With pursuers a short distance behind, he needed to get away. Andy focussed on the road ahead but something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was then he looked down to his left and saw the shape of a body slumped, unconscious, in the passenger seat. Unable to focus, he wasn’t sure who it was or whether they were dead or alive. Who the hell are you? No, I can’t think about you yet. I’ve got to drive. Must focus on the road.
The road started to climb and bend left then right which he navigated with ease. The movement of the car caused a familiar noise to distract him. The sound of empty bottles clinking together as they rolled and bumped into each other through the motion of the car. He looked around to see where the noise came from and saw a pile of empty bottles at the feet of the body in the seat next to him. Andy glanced back at the road which still climbed and looked straight enough to him. Curious and now distracted, Andy looked down at the bottles. He recognised the Bourbon and Scotch Whisky bottles from earlier, however they were accompanied by empty vodka and rum bottles. I don’t remember drinking them!
He glanced back up at the road. The lights shone out into darkness. The car entered a tight left bend but lined up to carry on straight and over the edge. “Nooooo!” Andy screamed as he pulled the wheel hard left and pushed down on the gas. The back end of the car started to slide away. To the right, by only a few feet, a deadly sheer drop waited. The front of the car made the bend, but the knot in his stomach tightened as he felt one of the rear wheels leave the road. His hands firmly gripped the steering wheel when he heard the bump and metallic grinding from the underside of the car as it dragged on the dirt and rocks from the roadside.
Andy changed down to second gear and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The engine screamed as the extra power spun the front wheels and kicked up gravel. The back end slid as he fought to keep the car on the road. The car jolted and gave a loud bang as the second wheel left the road. Sweat dripped down his brow, Andy was doing everything he could; he wasn’t giving up without a fight! He knew he was inches from going over the cliff, instinctively, he leaned forward hoping it would make a difference and save his life.
Then, somehow, the front wheels hit firmer ground and gained traction, the car started to move forward as it continued with its slide. The metal underside of the car continued to grind horribly as it moved over small rocks. Andy jolted violently in his seat as the rear wheels made contact w
ith the cliff edge. The power from the front wheels pulled the rear wheels back onto the road.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” he screamed through gritted teeth, as if it was he, personally, lifting the car back onto the road. He pulled to a stop on the left, the ground looked fairly level and had deep patches of snow, which the wind had formed into drifts. The road fell away with a slight downhill. The lights from the car showed the gentle gradient which then dropped steeply. A hundred metres away he could see another sharp left bend. Andy then looked down at his ‘passenger’: it was Luba!
Nervously, he touched her neck, it was warm, and he could feel a slow, steady pulse. You’re alive! He unbuckled her seatbelt, took the car out of gear and got out of the car. His head was still woozy from the mixture of alcohol and pure adrenaline that had been pumping through his body, he used the car to steady himself. It was then that he realized the car was moving slowly down the slope. Ooops! Brake! He jumped back into the car and engaged the handbrake; the car stopped moving. “Bloody manuals!” he cursed as he climbed out again.
He staggered around to the passenger door. His world continued to spin as he pulled the door open and dragged Luba from the car. His felt a surge of nausea as he tried to lift her and almost vomited. He dragged her lifeless body away from the car and into a deep ditch. He stumbled and lost his grip. Luba hit the ground hard and rolled into the bottom of the icy ditch. She didn’t stir.
Andy staggered back to the car and got back into the driver’s seat, the engine was still idling. He put the car into first gear, released the handbrake and gently pushed down on the gas. The car moved forward. Time to say ‘goodbye’! Andy lined the car up with the road, slipped it out of gear, opened the door and rolled out. He watched as the car picked up speed accelerating downhill and its lights illuminating the darkness.
Andy staggered back to Luba and climbed into the ditch beside her. Out of the darkness, from the right, the lights from the SUV and the other vehicles approached. He could hear the engine noise before the first vehicle cleared the bend. Andy grabbed a fallen tree branch, lay next to Luba and pulled the branch over them. The cold from the freezing ground beneath him seeped through his clothes and into his body. Only now, after all the action, did he realize he was dressed in the clothes he’d worn down to the spa area at the hotel before his abduction.