Page 138 of King’s Ransom

Maybe I was getting under his skin.

He’d come to America from a country with compulsory military service: conscription. That explained his aptitude with weapons and drones. The other terms he used, however, sounded medical.

‘Okay, then—’ I said, warming up.

‘No, Samuel, it’s time for you to listen. You have entered my world now. And only those whom I allow to stay get to remain alive in it. The events of December 21 were meant to be over. I am asking you politely but firmly to cease your investigations. If you continue with them, we will meet. In person. And it will not go well.’

Click.

Dial tone.

I stared at the old phone as I placed it back in its cradle.

I was shaking a little.

It was 1:05 a.m., and buzzed as I was from that unique conversation, I was now officially exhausted.

(I actually felt safe inside 60 Hudson Street, with its many security guards and multiple checkpoints. It was about as safe as I could get right now.)

I desperately needed to sleep, but I wanted to check one more thing before I did.

I Googled cheiloplasty, free flaps and autografting.

When the results appeared on my phone’s screen, I blinked.

All three were terms used in the field of plastic surgery.

Cheiloplasty: surgical procedures involving the lips, especially cleft lip defects.

Free flaps: a kind of surgery where a chunk of tissue—including the blood vessels—is transferred from one part of the body to another and the blood vessels are reconnected.

Autografting: when bone is taken from another site on a patient’s body for use in facial surgery.

This man from Modern Alchemical Solutions—the Unperson—was a doctor of some kind, one proficient in plastic or reconstructive surgery, which, if he and his criminal colleagues were in the habit of impersonating people, was a very helpful skill to have.

Uneasy and unsettled, I lay down on the cot and, after a short time, fell asleep.

QUESTIONS

It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.

– Matthew 19:24

60 Hudson Street

29 December, 0830 hours

I woke up at 8:30 a.m. the next morning and showered in the building’s gym.

As I got dressed, I thought about next steps.

Despite the Unperson’s (that was what I was calling the proprietor of Modern Alchemical Solutions now) explicit warning to stop my investigations, I figured I should go to Chinatown to look into that address on Doyers Street.

Before that, though, I called Monty Woods from the landline phone. Knowing that the Unperson had watched him leave 60 Hudson Street, I wanted to make sure Monty had got home safe.

‘Heya, Sam,’ he answered chirpily. ‘Sleep all right?’

‘Just making sure you’re still alive,’ I said.