On 21 September 2004, Michelle Weinberger woke up on the 79ft powerboat that she and her husband, Mark, owned as it rocked gently in the waters of a marina on the Greek island of Mykonos.

"I put my hand on his side of the bed, and I remember feeling it empty," she later told the US television channel NBC. Weinberger leapt from bed in alarm to find that her husband had vanished, taking with him his passport and money he had stashed secretly on board.

It was the beginning of a five-year flight from justice that ended this week even more strangely than it began, almost 6,000 feet up in the Italian Alps. Two officers of the paramilitary Carabinieri, led by a mountain guide, trudged up to the southern slopes of Mont Blanc to find one of America's most wanted fugitives living in a tent. He was surviving in temperatures as low as -18C on dried and tinned food and snow he melted on a portable stove.

Dr Mark Weinberger, a 46-year-old ear, nose and throat specialist, was tonight in a secure ward at the Molinette hospital in Turin recovering from a wound he sustained when he tried to take his own life at the Carabinieri station in Courmayeur, below Mont Blanc.

The US authorities have 40 days in which to apply for his extradition. He faces trial on 22 counts of healthcare fraud, having previously been indicted by a grand jury.

Brought up in a prosperous New York suburb, Weinberger was educated at the University of Pennsylvania and the UCLA medical school. He later worked with one of Chicago's most renowned plastic surgeons before opening his own practice, the Weinberger Sinus Clinic, in Merrillville, Indiana.

The "nose doctor", as he came to be known, met his future wife, 12 years his junior, in 2000. "He just swept me off my feet," she said. "He was the kindest, most gentle man I had ever met."

Weinberger proposed to her eight months later in a Rome piazza while on holiday, and they were married in characteristically ostentatious style in three separate ceremonies in the US and Italy in 2001.

Michelle Weinberger later said she reckoned her husband was earning $200,000 (£124,000) a week, performing between seven and 15 operations.

They owned a house in a wealthy lakeside neighbourhood of Chicago. Mark Weinberger travelled to and from his surgery in a chauffeur-driven limousine. He employed maids, cooks, a personal trainer and a skipper for his boat. Every month, his wife recalled, he would take 10 days off to enjoy his seemingly abundant income, often jetting off to Europe to indulge a passion for idling in the Mediterranean.

The first hint of trouble emerged in October 2002 when a lawyer acting for the estate of a woman who had died of throat cancer filed a complaint with the Indiana department of insurance. The complaint claimed Weinberger failed to diagnose her cancer and instead carried out an unnecessary operation on her sinuses that was paid for by her insurance company.

The lawyer said he was subsequently contacted by dozens of the doctor's former patients who alleged that they too had had surgery they suspected was unnecessary. A similar complaint was filed by a second attorney on behalf of 25 former patients.

As the malpractice suits piled up, Weinberger arranged what he said would be a very special 30th birthday party for his wife. He flew her, her mother and three friends out to the Greek islands and promised her a present that would be "something that only the movie stars have". Before disappearing, he bought her two expensive diamonds.

It was small recompense, though, for what she was about to discover. The unpaid berthing fees on Mykonos alone came to $40,000. Their boat was seized by the Greek authorities. Weinberger's practice owed $5.7m and was eventually auctioned to meet his debts.

But the oddest discovery, and one that perhaps holds the key to his life on the run, was that the doctor had a room at his clinic which his employees dubbed "the scary room". It was crammed with survival gear. And the equipment, including even a water filtration system, had been shipped to Europe before he left.

The fugitive surgeon was sought by the FBI. He featured more than once on the Fox television show America's Most Wanted, and was supposedly sighted as far away as China. His wife continued to defend him after he vanished.

"I hope he's safe, and I still love him," she told the Chicago Tribune in October 2004, adding: "We can relocate. We can live on an island in a hut." The Carabinieri who lifted the flap of Weinberger's tent on Tuesday morning had been alerted to his presence by a mountain guide, an Italian police official said. They did not immediately reveal that they suspected his identity. They said they had used an excuse to convince him to accompany them to Courmayeur and that Weinberger tried to persuade them he just "wanted to live a life in the wild".

After it became clear that they knew who he was, the runaway doctor asked to go to the lavatory. There, he whipped out a tiny knife he had secreted in his underwear and plunged it into his throat. But despite being an expert surgeon, he missed the artery he appeared to be aiming for, and the Carabinieri hustled him away for first aid.