The Face Transplant

by R Arundel

  Matthew takes her hands. “You need him back working, I understand. I can put you in touch with social work. They might be able to help.”

  “It’s too late for all that. I just need this to be over. We need our life back.”

  “Okay, I hear you. I’ll get on with it. The flap is still alive. If it looks halfway decent, we’re nearly home.”

  “We need to get out of here. I’m feeling trapped.”

  Matthew nods. “I get it. I’m going to try to speed things up.”

  “Don’t tell him I came by.”

  “Aly, thanks. I needed to know this.”

  Matthew enters Ryan’s room.

  “Doc MacAulay.”

  “Ryan. You’re looking a little too comfy in this room. “

  “This room is nice, it’s so big. I’m really glad you got it for me.”

  “You’ve earned it. You served your country with distinction and have paid a heavy price.”

  “I know you got my back.”

  “How’s the pain on the face?”

  “Pain’s totally gone. I feel great.”

  Unfortunately, Matthew no longer needs to look at the wound. Ryan has told him all he needs to know. The flap is now dead. The nerve endings have died, so there are no fibers to transmit pain sensation to the brain. Matthew carefully pulls the dressing back. The blue-black mass of tissue in the middle of Ryan’s face is swelling.

  Matthew speaks softly. “It didn’t make it.” He replaces the dressing and slumps into a chair beside the bed.

  “Doc MacAulay, you look like you lost your best friend.”

  Matthew gives a half smile. “Surgeons have fragile egos. We don’t deal with failure well.”

  “We’ve got other options right?” says Ryan.

  “Sure we do. I’ll take you back right now for a quick procedure to remove this flap. I will put a dressing on the area and prepare for round two,” says Matthew.

  “We have not yet begun to fight.”

  “Who said that, a famous pop star?” Matthew jokes.

  Ryan laughs. “My son told me he heard it said by one of his video game characters.”

  They both laugh loudly. Suddenly, Ryan becomes serious. He lowers his voice. “I have only one concern.”

  “What is that, Ryan?”

  “When we do the face transplant, will I be as handsome as you?”

  Matthew smiles. “We both know the answer to that. No.”

  They laugh again.

  ***

  “Why are you talking to me about this?” Sarah’s jaw clenches as she speaks.

  “There are not a lot of people I can talk to about it.”

  “I’m not really involved.”

  The operating room day has ended and only Sarah and Matthew remain in the room. The nurses have headed home. Matthew sits on a stool, while Sarah is at the anesthetic machine.

  “We were involved in a murder and a patient died on the table. We witnessed the bodies being removed,” says Matthew.

  “I know. I feel bad, but it is what it is.”

  “How can you say that?”

  Sarah says, “I’m tired. I just want to go home and stay low until this thing blows over.”

  Matthew says, “We need to find out who is behind all this.”

  “Did you see Mr. Glock? These guys are criminals. They may or may not be a part of some government, ours or foreign. It doesn’t really matter. As soon as they realize we’re not causing any trouble, this thing will go away.”

  “And we let them all go free?”

  “People like this don’t die peacefully in their beds of old age. They’ll get what they deserve, if not today then tomorrow.”

  Matthew says, “Someone found out about our advanced transplant work. They tipped off someone. I knew it was going to be hard to keep our work secret.”

  “Hard. How in the world did you think you could take government funds and keep it a secret? Do you know how many people in government had to approve this thing to make it happen? The amount of people involved made secrecy impossible.”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Any government bureaucrat who was signing those checks for the project would know that this was not regular university funding. I’m almost positive your extra money was coming out of some military or intelligence budget. Some committee had to approve that.”

  “I wonder who we were supposed to transplant. I think if I can find that out, I can find Tom’s killer.”

  “Looking for the killer will result in a bad end. You’re just a surgeon. I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but you’re not a detective. You’re not Sherlock Holmes. I’m not trying to be rude or put you down, but you cut and sew, that’s it. You don’t have the skills to investigate a complex murder.”

  “That’s hard.”

  “It sounds hard, but it’s the truth, Matthew.”

  “You might be surprised what can be accomplished if I put my mind to work on a problem.”

  “That’s surgeon’s ego talking. This time it will get you killed.”

  Matthew asks, “You want to hear my theory?”

  Sarah puts away the drugs and her stethoscope in the cupboard beside the anesthetic machine. She punches in the codes to log out and lock the machine. “Sure, go ahead, Sherlock.”

  “To do what we saw that night, across two sites in Palo Alto and New York, requires vast resources. Kofi thought Tom transplanted or harvested a face in Palo Alto. My guess is Tom harvested a face from someone. That was the face we were going to transplant at our center. The person we were going to change the identity of had to be involved in something criminal, or was about to be charged for something criminal.”

  “That’s probably right, but why would Tom do the harvest and then refuse to do the transplant?”

  “That’s what makes no sense. He’d either do nothing or do both.”

  “It’s clear that the person we were going to transplant was trying to disguise himself. He was going into hiding.”

  Matthew says, “It had to be something that would put him away for the rest of his life. Otherwise, it isn’t worth it. This drastically limits the people who we need to consider. Net worth is extremely high. Only a select few could even think of doing this. It’s a small group of hedge fund managers, bankers, CEOs, computer guys, and senior leaders in foreign countries where they have stolen major dollars. That’s it.”

  “I agree.”

  “The guy we were transplanting was not foreign. He was American or at least North American.”

  “Sure,” says Sarah.

  “So it’s very simple. We go to the library and look for high-net-worth people in trouble or involved in controversial business activities. They will have disappeared recently or just dropped off the media spotlight. That list can’t be too long. As long as we investigate this in a library, nobody will know we’re still pursuing it. They will assume we have decided to drop the whole thing. Nothing’s happened so far.”

  “Correct,” says Sarah.

  “So we’re safe. Trust me, these guys are long gone.”

  “So all we’re going to do is visit the New York Public Library?”

  Matthew, “Exactly.”

  Matthew was glad Sarah was going to help him with the investigation into Tom’s murder. She was in just as deep as he was. She should take some responsibility.

  The hallway outside the operating room is crowded. Usually there are a few relatives milling around. Today it is chockablock with people. Two healthy post-op patients have just died of unexplained heart attacks. Some relatives are loudly crying; others talking in hushed tones. They all have blank looks on their faces.

  The man in the black fedora spots Matthew immediately. He has chosen well and been a little lucky. A few of the men from one of the grieving families wear black hats. No one pays any attention to the tall, thin man in the black fedora. It may be worn slightly lower than the others, but they are all distraught. No one will notice. Each family thin
ks the man in the fedora is with the other. He can’t understand what all the fuss is about; both men were very ordinary. Nothing special. No real loss. In fact, Luka was an idiot. The world is a much better place without him.

  Matthew forces his way through the hallway. The hospital will review all post-op procedures to see if anything was amiss. It is virtually unheard of to have two deaths, same cause, so close together. In his entire career, Matthew has never seen or heard of such an occurrence. Some relatives have already started talking lawsuit. The university president is on the scene. The hospital CEO is present. The university president can be heard consoling relatives and assuring everyone the university is doing everything in its power during this crisis.

  Matthew passes the university president and nods hello. Matthew has too much on his mind to stop. Strange things can happen in surgery, but for two healthy men to die at the same time? Matthew would like to avoid this crowd. However, this is the only way out of the ward.

  The man in the black fedora is going to kill Matthew MacAulay. It will bring him no joy. It will bring him no sadness. It is just something he has to do. He knows this one should feel different, but it does not. He sees Matthew and begins to approach him. He is very excited; it feels almost sexual. The small pin he carries in his right palm is a work of art. It is a two-inch-long needle with a hollow core. It is very difficult to have this manufactured. The mechanical specifications are exacting because the point is so fine it is invisible to the human eye.

  He has to be careful with the point. If anyone looks closely at his right hand, they may notice a thick flesh-toned pad on his palm with a needle flat against it. As soon as he pushes the small button, the needle will become erect. The needle will penetrate Matthew’s skin and the plunger will inject the microdroplets. The amount is less than two grains of salt. Eight hours later Matthew will be dead. It will be relatively painless. Matthew’s muscles will violently constrict; it will be over in two minutes. Maybe it will not be so painless, but less pain than Matthew is causing him with his inquiries.

  A relative thinks he recognizes the tall thin man in the black fedora. Sam is an assembler for a plastics company. Thirty-two years on the job, he rarely missed a day. Sam is sure that it is Joe Khan. He had retired a few years ago. Sam would recognize that walk anywhere. Sam needs a better look at his face. He pushes through the crowd.

  “Joe.”

  Sam gently puts his hand on the man’s right upper arm. Sam cannot be sure of the man’s face; his black fedora is so low on his forehead.

  “It’s me, Sam Zoldt. Your old line mate.”

  The man with the black fedora is not expecting this. Sam nearly causes him to poke himself with the needle. What will he do if Sam puts out his hand to shake?

  “No, I’m sorry. You must have the wrong person.”

  Matthew is almost through the crowd. The man in the fedora fears he may lose his opportunity. He puts his hand up to the fedora as Sam tries to get a better look at him.

  Sam is unsure. He looks like Joe, but he seems to be cold, a little aloof. Sam could be mistaken.

  “You did the evening shift. We’d sometimes overlap.”

  “No.” The man in the black fedora moves quickly away.

  Matthew stops to ask the charge nurse if she has any ideas how these deaths occurred.

  The man in the black fedora is now close to Matthew. The pin is ready for insertion. The fact that now, if someone jostles him, the needle could prick his own skin adds to the thrill. He had tried to get his associates to do this job. They all refused.

  Looking down at the erect needle is stimulating. The beauty of the needle is that the point is so fine it will penetrate clothing and skin, leaving no mark. Better yet, it will not stimulate any pain fibers. He is two feet from Matthew. He rotates his palm outward. Now anyone looking will clearly see the small needle in his right hand. It will only be visible for a few seconds. He moves to plunge the needle into Matthew.

  Daniela is wracked with guilt. Mary and Luka are long-time family friends. Mary and Luka had been married for eight years. Luka had been kind to Daniela, comforted her when her own husband had left last year. Daniela would now comfort Mary in her time of need. Mary’s husband had been a good man; Daniela was the one who had caused Luka to sin. She would do anything Mary wanted. In one way she was relieved. She had always worried Mary would find out.

  “I’m sorry.” Daniela’s tears flow.

  “It’s hard on all of us. Luka was my world.”

  “He loved you so very much,” says Daniela.

  “He was a great father, a great husband. It’s just such a sudden . . .” Mary is too overcome to talk anymore.

  Mary’s four-year-old daughter is dressed all in black. Too young to understand, she stands by her mom. Daniela remains silent, transfixed by Mary’s grief. Daniela wants to confess, but how can she? It was a crazy time--her husband had just left her for a bartender barely out of high school. What good would telling Mary do anyway? The little girl looks up at Daniela, directly into her eyes. Daniela sobs loudly. Maybe this is the punishment.

  The wages of sin is death. Daniela feels the pain. Luka is dead. Death cleanses the soul. Death frees all guilt. Luka was a strong man. Virile. He ate good. He worked out. The heart attack was out of the clear blue sky. The doctors even said so. What would be her penance? Daniela cannot bear the pain, the shame, the guilt. She begins to wail.

  At the precise moment that the pin is going to enter Matthew’s side, Daniela lurches upward. She doesn’t feel a thing. The man in the black fedora looks on in shock but remains silent. Daniela has taken the needle right in the buttock. Even in his shock, he admires her firm round buttocks. The thin navy blue skirt fits Daniela well. Daniela hugs Mary.

  Matthew is happy to be past the crowd. Matthew pushes the button and waits at the elevator. Beside him is a man in a black fedora. Matthew notes he is wearing his hat very low. The man is slightly tilted away from Matthew, hands in his pockets.

  Can he strangle Matthew? It is a foolish thought. He is in a large group of people and could not hope to escape. Maybe in the elevator? The man in the black fedora knows he would stand no chance. Matthew is much younger. He knows everything about Matthew; he has done his research. They enter the elevator. Is there anything left in the needle? He knows the answer is no. It is a precision device, single use only.

  The elevator opens. Matthew turns to exit and the man turns away from Matthew. For some reason Matthew gets a cold chill that runs down his back. Matthew quickly gets off the elevator. He has an urge to move away. The man in the fedora veers right to avoid the security cameras. As he walks down the street, he thinks that it is just as well. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to kill Dr. Matthew MacAulay anyways. It would bring too much police scrutiny. Fate has always been good to him. This is a sign. His mind wanders back to the woman with the nice firm buttocks.

  Daniela hugs Mary tightly. Daniela feels much better. She didn’t kill Luka; he died of a heart attack. She feels badly about her affair with Luka, but what could she do? It only lasted a year. He was young for a heart attack, but these things happen. No one is punishing Daniela for her sins. She releases Mary from the hug.

  Daniela says, “Sometimes good people die. Sometimes it just doesn’t make sense.”

  Mary asks, “But why did it have to be him? He never did anything bad. Why couldn’t it be someone else?”

  Chapter Ten

  Erin Rogers is a middle-aged woman. She is bony with a lot of sharp edges. Her pleasant smile and short clipped speech show she is all business. She has thin lips, a small mouth set on a very wide face. Her face is not particularly remarkable, except for her pointy nose. She would have been at home in any university setting, maybe as a professor of literature.

  “Mr. Cooper, your hunch proved spot on.”

  “Fantastic,” says Jason.

  “We ran some tests on the tree branch. It was a high-energy-pulse device that caused the burn pattern.”

 
; Jason subconsciously rubs his nose. The heavy smell of formaldehyde is nauseating. “A laser?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what?”

  Erin says, “I have already communicated with some of your higher ups. I’m impressed, you’re Yankee White, the highest security clearance given.”

  “You’re Yankee White too.”

  “Yankee White through and through.”

  “So we can both talk freely.”

  “I’m sure you’re not thrilled to be in the morgue of George Washington, so I’ll be quick.”

  “What happened to Grabowski?” says Jason.

  “The burn pattern on the branch was confirmed as a high-energy weapon, so I re-examined the heart.”

  “And?” says Jason.

  “Have a look.” Erin pulls open the drawer.

  Tom’s body lies naked inside. Jason tries to look only at Tom’s chest. Jason looks around at the metal sinks and cabinets. The floors are smooth white, easy to hose down to remove bodily fluids.

  Jason says, “I don’t see anything.”

  “Neither did I until you found the branch. Now take a look.”

  Erin turns off the lights. She shines a light on Tom’s chest. Immediately, the area of skin overlying the heart glows pale red. It is a perfect circle.

  “This displays the mild tissue damage caused by the focused energy beam on the skin. It’s undetectable to the naked eye.”

  “Someone focused energy on his heart?” says Jason.

  Erin flips on the lights. Then she pulls back a flap of skin on Tom’s chest. She casually reaches into Tom’s chest and removes his heart. She puts the heart on a tray.

  “The human heart is like a small grapefruit. It is a muscle with four chambers. The heart looks grossly normal.”

  Erin again turns off the lights and shines the light on the heart. “See the red glow. That’s the left ventricle. The heart chamber that pumps the blood to the body. The same perfect circle.”

  “Wow.”