The surgeon had a fairly meagre practice in the city.
He was a heart specialist. He held consultations in his rooms, then performed heart surgery at the local hospital. He had never attracted many clients, and his reputation as a practitioner was not the best. He just managed to scrape by. However, none of this could explain the fact that he was able to maintain such a lavish lifestyle. His mansion, set on a large property and his expensive cars seemed disproportionate to the income derived from his paltry medical practice. This had been the case for several years, but had changed radically when he decided to take a short break of a day or two. So, instead of flying into Saint Moritz, the luxury alpine resort town in Switzerland where he would cross-country ski for a week or two, he booked into a five-star hotel in a coastal holiday town.
It was there, on the second night, that he had taken a stroll along the promenade after his meal and found himself at the entrance of the pier. He hadn’t visited such a place since childhood and with a degree of excitement he went in. He spent time looking at the various forms of entertainment, including a penny arcade. He was thrown back to a time when, as a boy, he would go into such venues with a handful of coins. Strolling past the brightly lit, noisy machines, his attention was caught by on old wizard in a glass case beckoning customers to have their fortunes told. Dipping his hand into his pocket, he approached. The slot took his coin and he stepped back to watch the mystical fortune teller bob around before a click told him that a card had slid out onto the tray.
He picked it up. It read, ‘Your future does not look bright. You have systematically swindled more than fifteen million dollars from the Sandler, Bingly and Mortimer Corporation over the past twelve years. The authorities have been advised.’
His heart stopped.