saying. Now Miss Weiss, she's a friend of mine, she is on the lookout for a man like yourself –”
“Miss Butterfield, please! My love life is not your concern. My companion is injured. Where do you think my priorities lie right now?”
She was taken aback for only a second, before starting again with the same zeal, “How did it happen? You didn't say. Professor? Professor? ”
The Professor waved down the first hansom that came along, ignoring or placating Missus Butterfield's continued meddlesome questioning until I was loaded on.
I felt incredibly sore and ill, and it was with relief that the prattling of her voice was replaced with the rattling of the wheels on the cobbles as the driver skipped along at a solid clip. The jolting and jarring of the bumps aggravated my sores and the pain.
At least the bleeding had slowed.
Doctor Halfpenny
Within a quarter of an hour I was shivering on an examination bench, stripped to my underwear, feeling weak, sad and awfully sorry for myself.
I fought back tears as Doctor Halfpenny liberally applied a strong smelling concoction to the wound that aggravated all of the nerve endings in the raw flesh of the leg-wound.
“I'm sorry, but it has to be done. This will clean it out and speed up the healing. That's a nasty gash you've got there. Keep this dressed for the next few days, changing the bandages over each day until the scab fully forms,” he instructed, “Apply this unguent and cover it with fresh plaster each morning.”
“Yes, Doctor,” I said.
“And if you can safely track down the dog that did this to you, shave off some of its hair and add it to your brew. That will help.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Only this is the strangest dog bite I ever did see. Normally it's ragged, there is bruising about the bite, saliva, all of that. This is fresh and clean, almost surgical,” he said, looking closer, “What kind of dog did you say it was, again?”
The Professor, evidently waiting just outside the door, hurried in, “Hello, Doctor Halfpenny, good to see you, just, ah, how do you do? Just checking in on my assistant and how he might be doing, eh?”
“Hello, Professor. If you don't mind, I do like to keep my consultations private.”
“Of course, of course, but he doesn't mind, I'm sure, do you laddie?”
To be perfectly honest, the familiarity that came from our professional relationship had not quite extended to having him see me in my underwear. Even so, I did my best to appear nonchalant and gave a shrug and a nod.
Doctor Halfpenny looked between us, muttered something to himself, scribbled a note in his notepad and continued the examination.
“Well, if you will, Professor, please do not interrupt. I'm sure a man of your qualifications understands the necessity of uninterrupted concentration.”
“Of course, Doctor, I am an advocate and evangelist,” the Professor replied.
“Quite,” he turned back to me, “Now, have you been hurt anywhere else?”
“My back. I think it is bruised, it is so sore,” I said.
“Your back? Laddie, just how big was this dog?”
“I, um, I don't know. Does it matter?”
“Normally dog bites are accompanied with injuries to hands and arms, not one's back.”
Suddenly aware of the Professor's glare, I said, “Er, maybe it wasn't a dog.”
“Not a dog?”
“It was dark, I couldn't see very well.”
“It's the middle of the day.”
“Yes, but, um, I was in a cellar.”
“A cellar?”
The Professor interrupted, “Oh, you know these young, adventurous chaps, poking around in places they don't belong, getting into mischief in all sorts of ways. Who knows what he got up to?”
“I need to know the nature of the injury, the provenance and context, otherwise I may make a misdiagnosis.”
“I'm sure that won't be the case.”
“Professor, please,” Doctor Halfpenny chided, “If I am to properly examine the patient, I need him to answer in his own words. Now, young man, can you please describe how you obtained this injury?”
“Well, er, yes. I was in the cellar and, um, I was attacked by a dog,” I said, “At least, it must have been a dog, but it was dark.”
He took off his glasses and looked me in the eye.
“Is that the truth? Is that what happened?”
“Yes,” I said, holding my gaze as steady as I could manage, “That's what happened.”
Doctor Halfpenny turned to the Professor, “If I could please ask you wait outside. Miss Gallagher will help you to some tea.”
“Oh, no thank you, I've only -” he began, but a daggered stare from the Doctor changed his tone, “You know, maybe I will have a cup of tea. I could do with a rest.”
Forced to honour the perfectly reasonable request of the highly esteemed doctor, the Professor nodded politely, took up his bag and went back outside. Doctor Halfpenny waited until he heard the chirruping of Miss Gallagher before he turned back to me.
“Now, son, I know a dog bite when I see one, and this is not from a dog. And this contusion on your back looks more like you've been hit with a club.”
He checked it over again, “That or someone who has a fist the size of a melon.”
I looked away. He turned my head back and looked me in the eye.
“Just what exactly happened?”
“Like I said –” I began.
“Tut tut! Look, the Professor isn't in the room. In fact, anything you say in this room I am honour bound to keep as a secret until I die. That is part of my profession, and it isn't something I treat lightly. Do you understand?”
I nodded, unsure of where he was going with it.
“I am a practitioner of medicine, a doctor, and I am under oath to serve those who need me. This includes immediate injuries, like you have sustained, and, to an extent, future injuries.”
“Future injuries?”
“Those you may continue to sustain, should intervention not be forthcoming.”
I shook my head, “I am afraid –”
“Of telling the truth?”
“No, that I don't understand.”
He strummed his chin, then said, “Very well, let me be blunt. Did the Professor do this to you?”
“What? No!”
“You do not need to lie for him. If he did this to you, you can tell me. In confidence.”
“No!” I assured him, “No, certainly not! The Professor is good to me. He employed me when no one else would.”
“That doesn't mean that he has the right to mistreat you.”
I held up my hands, “Oh. It's not like that, Doctor, not at all!”
“Then what is it like, hmm? I'm a smart man, and I know when I'm being lied to.”
“I'm not lying,” I said, conscious that my face was turning a shade of scarlet, “Well, I guess I am, perhaps, in a way, but, you see, it's complicated.”
“I can assure you that the truth is less complicated than any lie you can spin. It's also a lot safer. Without knowing what I'm dealing with, I might miss something crucial, and you'll end up being even sicker. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Now, let's start from the top, shall we? The truth, if you will.”
“Yes, Doctor,” I sighed.
I explained the Professor's line of investigation, my role as his assistant, and the story of Jolimont house up to the point where I was attacked.
Surprisingly, he did not blow through his moustache or interject with sarcastic remarks. Rather, he sat very still and listened carefully to everything I had to say, jotting down notes and prompting me for clarification every so often. When I had finished, he put his glasses away and nodded to himself.
“Doctor? It's the truth, Doctor.”
“Truth? Truth is merely fact observed from a perspective.”
“You don't believe me, do you?”
“Hmm. I believe that you believe what
you're saying. Considering that your story I so amazing, I doubt that you could think up such a tale...”
Suddenly, there was a shout from without. Doctor Halfpenny, surprisingly nimble for his age, was out the door in a trice. Bewildered and panicked, I scrounged for my clothes, listening to the elevated voices as I wrestled with my shirt.
I am sure that it will be demonstrated one day that the difficulty of dressing oneself is proportional to the haste with which one is being attired. My sleeve garter slipped and flew across the room, letting the cuff drop down over my hand, making it impossible to fix the buttons.
I could hear the voices getting louder. I left off fiddling with the buttons on my shirt and grabbed for my pants. It was at that precise moment, when I was bent over, attempting to insert my leg into the pant, that the door burst open and two leering men tumbled in.
“He's in here! He's in here! Quick, take a shot!”
A searing, blinding flash completely disorienting me. The next thing I knew, I was toppling sideways into the Doctor's cabinet. With a thud and a crash I crowned myself as another flash preserved my blindness.
There was I, pants still not on, shirt not fully buttoned, debating whether to rub my sore eyes, rub my pounding head or put my clothes on.
I heard Doctor Halfpenny yelling, “You shall respect the sanctity of a doctor’s office! Out with you! All of you!”
“The public's got a right to know,” came a nasal reply, and another blinding flash, “'Specially if there's funny business going on!”
“Out, I say! The constabulary will hear of this! The examination room is off limits. Now get out!”
A voice said, “No worries, guv, we're leavin'. Got what we came for, eh, Sam?”
“I'll say,” came a sneer in reply, “Front page stuff, this. Thanks, champ!”
I flopped about on the floor,