Read The Hand of the Devil Online
Authors: Dean Vincent Carter
The Hand of the Devil (10 page)
Mather paused a moment, perhaps for effect, perhaps because the memories were uncomfortable for him.
‘The idea came to him while he and I were drinking in our favourite bar near the hospital. Soames had an amazing preoccupation with anatomy, even for someone training to be a surgeon. He believed that secrets could be revealed through new and unorthodox forms of anatomical study. A great number of his theories came from dreams he’d had, a worrying fact on its own, but even more worrying when on occasion he would actually carry out the bizarre experiments suggested by his subconscious.
‘It seemed a natural thing to him to spend most of his spare time amongst the bodies in the morgue, dissecting, examining, looking for heaven knows what. The other students, and a number of the doctors, gave Soames a wide berth. To them he was something of a ghoul. In appearance he was tall, thin and had long, black, unwashed hair that stuck to his forehead in greasy, unflattering clumps. He towered above me and had a stride that often left me far behind, struggling to keep up. How Soames bought his clothes I don’t know, but they were poorly chosen. His shirts were too small, his trousers too short. Fashion didn’t appear to interest him; like so many other things it was a distraction from his work. Sometimes he would spend entire nights doing things that the rest of us students would try to avoid, unless it was part of our coursework. Many was the story we heard of poor unsuspecting nurses stumbling upon the dirty, exhausted figure of Soames, hunched over a corpse in the morgue, doing all sorts of horrible things to it. Oh, he never did anything illegal or perverted, as far as I am aware, but his enthusiasm was, shall we say, excessive.
‘But the dark and deeply regrettable incident that led to Soames and me parting ways involved a particularly gruesome dream he’d had about what he described as “unwarranted organ extraction”. Panting with excitement, he told me that the exact organ to be removed wasn’t important, it was the effects of the removal that he was interested in. It had to be an organ with an important function. That way the results of the extraction would be clearly and immediately apparent.
‘On hearing Soames’s idea I was horrified, and remain so to this day. I had to ask him to repeat what he’d told me, so I could be sure I hadn’t misheard. He went over it again, this time in slow, careful detail. I sat for a while in stunned silence, until Soames demanded to know what was troubling me.
‘That he had to ask made me laugh out loud. How could he not see that what he proposed went beyond the unethical and into the realms of the inhuman? I tried without success to change his mind. In his eyes that night I could almost glimpse a growing madness fuelled by an insatiable curiosity. I had the feeling that he was keeping something from me – perhaps something even more outrageous than what he’d already divulged – because he knew what I’d say or do if I found out.
‘I repeatedly made objections to Soames’s plan. I tried in vain to assure him that, quite apart from the moral issue, such a procedure was fraught with complications. As a medical student I had a responsibility to preserve life where possible; to avoid inflicting unnecessary pain and torture. I could not allow myself to take part in such foul schemes. Soames sighed when he learned that my answer was no, and realized that he should cease trying to convince me. He seemed more sombre than angry, and resigned himself to tackling his work alone.
‘The next day the only thing on my mind was Soames’s plan. Without supervision of some kind he would be free to do whatever he wished, and that disturbed me. I convinced myself that I’d have to pretend to agree to assist him, purely to be in a position of control, to stop him from going too far. That night I approached him in the bar under the pretence that I had come round to his way of thinking. A weight of depression seemed to lift from him immediately and he dashed away to buy drinks. What I was doing was dangerous, and I prayed I had made the right decision. Soames sloshed and spilled the beer in his rush to get it back to the table. The cuffs of his grey shirt were soaking by the time he sat down.
‘“Excellent,” he said, a fire in his eyes. “This is very good news. I was dreading the idea of working alone. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
‘“Well,” I said, faking a grin, “I knew you’d do it anyway and I reckon things will go a lot more smoothly if I’m there to lend a hand.”
‘“They will indeed,” Soames enthused. “They will indeed!”
‘“But tell me, where are you going to find someone who’ll let you operate on them in this way?”
‘“You leave that to me, my friend. You’ll be surprised how many willing subjects there are out there, prepared to do all sorts of things for next to nothing.”
‘“Like who?”
‘“Who? Have you looked in the gutter recently? In shop doorways?”
‘“The homeless?”
‘“Yes, the ‘homeless’. My dear boy, some of these people are all but screaming to take part in such endeavours. They are the desperate, the addicted. They operate on a different level to you and me. A lower level. Their needs are simpler, their demands less expensive.”
‘“You will be careful though? I mean, you’ll treat them with respect? The respect—”
‘“That any human being would demand? Of course. I am human after all.”
‘“You must ensure that you don’t inflict any long-term damage on the patients,” I said, adopting a serious tone. “What you’ll be doing contravenes lawful medical practice.
‘“Yes, yes,” Soames said. “But what doesn’t these days? Sometimes bending the rules is the only way to make progress. But don’t worry, I’ll ensure that no one finds out.”
‘“How, exactly?”
‘“Oh, I’m a man of resource. I’m always careful to keep prying eyes away from my business.”
‘“Soames—”
‘“Just relax, will you? Trust me. What we’re about to embark on is a quest of discovery and enlightenment. I’m doing this in the name of medicine, to benefit my fellow man.”
‘“Are you?”
‘“Oh, Mather, for heaven’s sake!” Soames paused for a while to think something over. “I’m not a monster.”
‘“I know but—”
‘“Believe me, I’d know if I was going too far.” He took a few mouthfuls of beer. I think I’d relaxed a little by now, but I still wasn’t wholly convinced of Soames’s assertions. His past behaviour suggested that he didn’t know what “too far” was, and didn’t care either.
‘“Come on, drink up,” he encouraged. “I’ll get the next round.”
‘We ended up quite drunk that night. I cheered up considerably as the evening went on, but I was beginning to doubt my ability to stop Soames’s diabolical project. I wish things had been different.
‘Just before closing time we left the bar and walked to the bus stop, where Soames caught his bus home. I lived in the student quarters by the hospital, a situation I had long preferred. Living amongst other people had always suited me. Just hearing voices through the walls of my room was comforting. Since then, as you can tell, my preference has altered drastically. Soames, on the other hand, thrived on isolation. The large house he rented must have cost him a pretty penny, but at a young age he had lost his parents and had been brought up by a wealthy aunt. I guessed that she must have provided her nephew with some sort of subsidy. He hardly mentioned her, but on the rare occasions she did crop up in conversation I had the impression that she was a strict, cold-hearted woman, and that Soames was glad to be free of her. He would rarely invite me or anyone else back to his house. I think it was an important refuge for him.
‘I was surprised when, the next day, Soames told me he was ready to conduct his experiment. There were dark crescents under his eyes. He’d been having trouble sleeping. Either that, or he’d been preparing for the experiment all night. Whichever was the case, I was consumed by a great unease. I lied and told him I had arranged to be somewhere else. My story crumbled, however, under an unprecedented interrogation. Soames managed to work his way around every excuse I gave him until I finally relented. His determination seemed so set that nothing could get in his way.
‘The night came fast. I was tempted to go to the bar and get a few drinks inside me for courage, but such an idea might have been disastrous. Unpleasant questions kept running through my mind. Who would he find to be the subject for the experiment? How would he ensure that they survived? What if the worst happened and the subject died? Would he be guilty of murder? One thing I was sure of: if Soames was to be kept under control, I would have to stay sober, so I decided against going to the bar. I arrived at his house at eleven o’clock in the evening, as arranged, and knocked on the door. Not a sound came from inside the house. My hands ran trembling through my hair.
‘“Maybe he started without me,” I said aloud. Stepping back, I looked up at the first-floor windows. There were no lights on in the house. I was puzzled. Knowing how precise and clinical Soames was, there had to be something seriously wrong for him to have missed the appointment. I waited for some minutes, wondering if my watch was wrong. Then Soames appeared at the gate behind me. He strode up the path, one hand holding something in a brown paper bag, the other fumbling in his pocket for his keys.
‘“Sorry to keep you waiting, I had to pop out for five minutes,” he said, grinning and pushing the key into the lock. “All is set though. I can’t wait to get started.” He opened the door and I followed him inside.
‘The interior of the house suggested that Soames wasn’t house-proud. The walls of the living room were covered in old beige wallpaper, whole sheets of which were peeling off in places. There was a small sofa and an armchair that had both seen better days and the fireplace had been sealed up and painted over. There was no television or radio, not even a lamp or ornament of any description. It was obviously a room he spent little time in. I lowered myself slowly into the cushioned grasp of the armchair, in case it fell apart. Soames insisted on making me a cup of coffee, which he went to the kitchen to prepare.
‘I looked at the peeling walls. There was an odd feeling in my stomach. My mouth was dry, my palms were sweating. I wanted to get on with the matter in hand. The longer I waited, the more my imagination ran riot. A short while later Soames brought in a large mug of coffee for me, then left, muttering to himself. The first sip scalded my tongue, making me curse aloud. When the liquid had cooled I took a second sip, but when it hit my stomach, I immediately felt ill. Just then Soames returned and diverted my attention from the growing nausea within me.
‘He appeared in the doorway wearing a surgical gown and carrying a second one for me. “Here you go,” he said, passing me the white garment. “Drink up and we’ll crack on.”
‘I didn’t feel like finishing the coffee, but under his gaze I felt compelled to do so. The liquid gurgled and sloshed around in my gut, unwilling to settle, as though it were an unwelcome guest. I placed the mug on the carpet and dressed myself in the gown. Soames then led me out into the corridor and up the stairs to the first floor. Across the landing he opened the door to a large bedroom and welcomed me inside.
‘The first thing I noticed on entering the room was the amount of light. It was incredibly bright in there. The curtains were closed, and in addition to the light on the ceiling Soames had arranged three electric lamps around the room. They must have been fitted with the most powerful bulbs available, as they rendered the room all but devoid of shadow. Once I’d grown semi-accustomed to the glare, I noticed the man lying unconscious on the table.
‘He was a tramp. There could be no doubt about that. His clothes were old, torn and badly stained. He was unshaven and the back of his neck was dark with dirt, his hair tangled and matted. I glanced at Soames, who merely smiled and clapped me on the back.
‘“Right!” He went over to a smaller table on which he had arranged a collection of surgical implements. “Shall we?”
‘“Is he asleep?”
‘“No, but he’s deeply inebriated. Trust me, he won’t flinch. I’ve just bought another bottle of Scotch in case he requires further sedation. I would use anaesthetic, but I couldn’t get any from the hospital. They guard that stuff so well you’d think it was gold bullion. Still, one must learn to improvise.” I looked at the brown paper bag on the floor, and the bottle of Scotch that had been in it. The cap had been screwed off ready for use. “Right, help me turn him onto his back.”
‘“Wait a minute,” I said, feeling more unwell. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
‘“I’m positive. For God’s sake, man, have more faith.”
‘“I still think this is a really bad idea,” I said.
‘Soames looked at me as though I were mad. “My good friend, what on earth is the matter? There’s nothing to be frightened of.”
‘“I’m not frightened!” It was a lie. My whole body felt unnaturally cold.
‘“It’s OK” – he put a hand on my shoulder – “I promise you. It’ll be fine.”
‘“OK. So . . .” I tried to look calmer than I actually was. “You’re going to remove the liver, record the effects on his body, then reattach it?”
‘“Yes, that’s it.” I detected a little hesitation in Soames’s response. Something wasn’t right. “Like I said the other day, it’s an unwarranted organ extraction. The liver is an essential organ, so removing it will produce obvious results. I’ll record those results and later analyse them. Grab his legs, would you?”
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