Or maybe the kids are real, and he’ll ask for specifics. I could refuse to answer, claiming patient confidentiality, but what if he has their parents in the wings, ready to give their consent?

I hate these fucking situations.

Finally, I come up with this: “I form a special bond with all my patients during surgery, Mitch.”

“And do you follow up with them after they leave your care?”

“I’ve followed a few. Not many.”

“Not Katie and Johnny?”

“No.”

“Well, my dedicated staff did what you weren’t willing to do. You pocketed the money and went your merry way, but less than two years after being exposed to your surgical procedure, Little Johnny Bahrain was killed in a car crash. BY A DRUNK DRIVER!”

I see the camera panning in on my face for a reaction, and have no idea how I’m supposed to react. I try to show sadness, but I doubt it’s coming across properly. I can only hope a miniscule number of people watch this ridiculous show.

Mitch continues: “Unfortunately, Katie Sanderson wasn’t so lucky. She suffered horribly before dying.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What was her cause of death?”

“Faulty air bag. How does that make you FEEL, DOCTOR?”

“It makes me feel sad.”

“As it should. So here’s the question my viewers want to know: can all your so-called ‘surviving patients’ look forward to horrifying deaths?”

I sigh.

Outside the camera’s viewing area a stage guy pushes a third chair onto the set. Mitch waits till it’s in place, then says, “Cheer up, Doctor. Not all your patients have died. We’ve gone to great trouble and expense to locate our next guest. One I’m sure you’ll recognize. She’s a former patient of yours. One who miraculously hasn’t perished in a flaming car crash. Yet.”

He motions his camera crew, and they drag a protesting young woman over to the set.

She looks at me.

I nod.

“Would you please state your name, dear?”

“Trudy Leigh Lake.”

“You’re a beautiful young lady.”

“Thank you.”

“And you were a patient of Dr. Box’s, years ago, weren’t you?”

“No sir.”

“Fascinating!”

Mitch turns to me and says, “Is it true that just hours ago you attempted to push a woman off a 40-story building?”

“What?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, what you’re about to witness is shocking. Just moments ago we obtained a video that clearly shows Dr. Gideon Box taking skirt-chasing to a new level, pun intended. He’s literally chasing a young woman along the 40th-floor ledge of the hospital where he works. My question is why was she on the ledge in the first place, Doctor? Was that the only place she could go to avoid your unwanted sexual advances?”

Before I can craft a response, my cell phone rings. I check the caller ID.

It’s Donovan Creed, the assassin.

8.

“SORRY, MR. CHILES,” I say. “I’m afraid our interview has concluded.