Sir Clive stared into his half-filled crystal whisky tumbler of fine scotch malt. Alone in his Study he was slumped on an antique leather sofa, his thoughts festering. For years he had envied Eve's immortality, he wanted it. And he had devoted almost as many years trying to find the secret.
He’d gone to considerable expense in making his cellar laboratory secure and fully equipped, installing a mini kitchen and bathroom along with the more sinister accoutrements of dentists chair and operating table. Owing to the number of ‘accidental’ deaths he’d had to entomb several unfortunate victims in one of the rooms, blocking off the dumb waiter and bricking up the doorway, then plastering over it as if it never existed. The only way in and out of the laboratory was through a single door, which he had reinforced with locks and bolts on both sides.
Over the years he had conducted many bizarre experiments to try to artificially reproduce Eve's mysterious gift, everything he'd tried had failed. He had bought potions and elixirs from all the corners of the world, and of course none of them had worked. He was old, getting older and more desperate. Age, alcohol, senile dementia, and the fear of death led him to contemplate greater and greater extremes.
“It's all to do with the brain…” He mused, “…There must be a way….” He tapped his temple, “…If I could only-” After downing half his glass he reached tremblingly for the telephone, dialled the ex-directory number of an old colleague who still worked for the Foreign Office, his call was answered quite promptly,
“Hello?”
“Giles old man! How are you?” He exchanged the customary polite nonsenses for a short time before coming to the point,
“Listen Giles, can you talk? Are you alone? You are? Good! Look, I want you to put me in contact with that Bangkok chappie, you know, the one who supplies the girls. I need a couple of lively young fillies, you know! No, don't ask why, just get them for me!” Sir Clive ended the conversation with a promise to ‘look after’ Giles if everything worked out satisfactorily.
After downing the rest of his whiskey he made his way downstairs to the laboratory. He'd brought some very special instruments with him that needed to be set up carefully prior to his next experiment.