Chapter I.XII

Galbraith, who was a little reassured by the doctor’s remark, asked what happened next.
 
- And then the gynaecologist told Maurice that they would put the young lady in the ward for now and begin preparations for the operation to remove... Oh, forgot this medical term... But I remember that, according to Maurice, that man had never encountered anything like this before in his entire career.

- A rather interesting story... - Galbraith nodded

- I have not yet finished, - Matt called his interlocutor's attention. - Then Maurice, leaving his home phone number to the gynaecologist, left the hospital and went home. This was the day before yesterday.

- Okay, so what happened next?

- And yesterday they called him late in the evening - they said that they had already looked at everything and prepared for everything, and tomorrow they would perform a hysterectomy on the little girl.

- What exactly do they do? - the inspector didn't understand

Galbraith thought that he had come across such a word before, but forgot its meaning.

- Uterus removal, - Matt said as he ran off.

- My God! - Having shouted this, the inspector grabbed his head.

- I am also shocked by it too, like you, - the doctor began to calm him down. - Even at twenty-eight years old, such an operation is already a serious step, but here is a little child...

- Why they decided to do it? - Galbraith, with a fire in his eyes, jumped up from the bench.

- All right, bud, cool, - Matt tried to pacify the interlocutor, but he did not let up.

- Tell me why? - he exclaimed almost theatrically

- Well... Maurice told me that this thing - I don’t remember the term - almost completely grown into the endometrium, and without complete removal of the uterus, the gynaecologist saw no other way to help the young lady.

The explosion of despair gave way to despondency - Galbraith sank back onto the bench next to Matt.

- And this morning Maurice received a call that the girl, how should I put it... - the doctor began to look for words.

- Don't hesitate, please... - muttered the inspector

- In general, staff of Randall Children's Hospital said that her pulse had stopped being palpable.

There was silence, broken only by Matt's noisy breathing. Galbraith felt his own heart ready to jump out of his chest.

- What was the name of the gynaecologist who led the operation? - he asked after a minute.

A plan for further action began to emerge in his mind.

- I recall Maurice saying it was... - the doctor began to remember

- Name, bud, I need a name! - Galbraith yelled at the pink-cheeked man.

- How you much hotter... - Matt pulled away from him. - So, he told me that the gynaecologist introduced himself to him as doctor Baselard.

Galbraith immediately jumped up from the bench and rushed to the police department. Matt shouted something after him, but the wind in his ears prevented the inspector from hearing his words. Once inside the building itself, he slowed down and, without greeting anyone, went up to the second floor to his office. There he sat down at the table and, moving the telephone closer to him, dialed the helpline number. When the receiver said "Hello, I’m listening to you", Galbraith, trying to give his voice as calm an intonation as possible, asked to be told the telephone number of the management of Randall Children's Hospital. The response he received was "Wait a couple of minutes".

The inspector put the phone down next to the machine and began looking for paper. When he finally put a blank sheet in front of him and took a pen from his desk drawer, "Write" came from the receiver. Holding it with his shoulder, Galbraith grabbed a pen and wrote down the hospital’s telephone number on paper under dictation. Thanking him, he ended the call and, running his eyes over the sheet, dialed the number. They answered the phone almost immediately.

- You called Randall Children's Hospital, - Galbraith heard a melodic female voice.

- Hello, could you give me doctor Baselard's home address?

- We do not disclose personal... - the callgirl started, but the inspector interrupted her.

- I'm from Portland Police Bureau, - he said dryly.

- Okay, hold the line, - answered a female voice.

Galbraith had to wait a few minutes. Finally, the callgirl returned and began to dictate the address to him - the inspector barely had time to grab the pen. When he wrote the last letter, a female voice asked him "Anything else?", but he just said goodbye and ended the call. "Well, wonderful", he thought, "Here it is, the address of the man who killed an innocent child with his own hands". Galbraith, having re-read the paper several times, folded it four times and put it in the same pocket where the photograph of three happy people lay.

Galbraith left the police department building. He glanced at the bench by the post - Matt had already left somewhere. This doesn’t matter at all, he thought. A yellow car with a characteristic checkerboard pattern on the door was driving towards him. The inspector stopped the taxi and, having told the driver the street name and house number, sat back in the back seat. He began to figure that doctor Baselard was probably still in the hospital now, so there was a high probability that he might not find him at home. Galbraith wasn't sure what he really wanted to get out of this visit, but he was firmly convinced that he needed to cross paths with this man before the case of "The Death of Delia Yonce under The X-acto knife" got to court of justice, so there was no time to waste.

The driver quickly delivered the passenger to the desired address.In gratitude for the service, Galbraith gave the taxi driver a generous tip, and the car moved on. Meanwhile, the inspector himself stopped next to a five-story building and, with his hands on his hips, began to look up. The callgirl told him the number of doctor Baselard's apartment, but he was puzzled about how to get there - Galbraith did not have the necessary keys, master keys or anything like that with him. Will he really have to climb through the window, like in cheap spy movies?