“Yes, sir.”
“It is fortunate for you, Sergeant Hammersmith, that I admire a certain degree of independent spirit in my men. But in the future, you will exercise better judgment and find ways of applying your zeal that do not step over the bounds of your proper duty, do you understand?”
“I do, sir.”
“Good. How’s the arm?”
“The wound was shallow. My hand’s broken, but should knit well enough.”
Sir Edward nodded. “Go easy on it. I want you back in fighting form sooner rather than later.”
“Yes, sir. But, sir?”
“Yes, Mr Hammersmith?”
“Didn’t you call me sergeant just now? I mean, I believe you may have misspoken.”
Sir Edward nodded. “It is certainly possible. But in this case I did not. As of today, you are promoted to the rank of sergeant within the Metropolitan Police Force.”
Hammersmith stood absolutely still.
“Hammersmith, are you quite all right?”
“I don’t know what … Sir, this is most unexpected.”
“I imagine it is. Beginning tomorrow, I would like you to assist Inspector Day on his cases. We need to begin filling the void left by poor Inspector Little.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I believe you and Mr Day will balance each other nicely. I have high hopes.”
“I won’t let you down, sir.”
“No, I don’t think you will.”
Sir Edward picked up the sheaf of papers from his desk and studied the top page. Without looking up, he said, “You are dismissed, Sergeant.”
107
You needn’t trouble yourself, Doctor,” Day said. “I’m sure everything’s fine.”
“It’s no trouble at all. Your house is on my way home.”
“Well, I appreciate your company,” Day said.
Walter Day opened the front door and Kingsley followed him inside. Mrs Dick greeted them in the parlor.
“She’s upstairs, Mr Day. The doctor’s in there with her. It’s bad, sir.”
Day didn’t bother to introduce Mrs Dick and Dr Kingsley. He took the stairs three at a time with Kingsley right behind him. Claire’s bedroom door was closed, and Day knocked. The door was opened almost immediately and a stout white-haired man in shirtsleeves and vest stood there, barring entry. Day craned his neck to see past the stranger.
“Claire?” Day said.
“I’m sorry,” said the old man. “Who are you?”
“I’m her husband. Who are you?”
“I’m her doctor.”
“She doesn’t have a doctor. We’ve only just moved to the city and we have no doctor yet.”
“I am Phillipa’s doctor. She summoned me when your wife took sick.”
“I don’t know who Phillipa is.”
“Phillipa Dick. Your housekeeper. Surely you’re aware of your household staff.”
“I didn’t … I didn’t know her first name. What’s wrong with Claire?”
“Your wife is gravely ill. I fear the worst.”
“Let me in.”
Day pushed past him. The room was dark. It smelled stuffed-up, acidic, and smoky. There was a row of small glass jars on the vanity across from the bed, along with a pile of squat candle stubs. Claire lay on her bed, propped up by pillows. She smiled weakly at her husband.
“I’m so sorry, Walter. I don’t know what happened to me.”
He went to her and took her hand. It was cold, and when he gently squeezed her fingers, she didn’t squeeze back.
“It’s all right. You’re going to be just fine.”
“Of course I will be, dear. Don’t trouble yourself over me.”
Kingsley had been quiet and Day didn’t realize that he had followed him into the room until he spoke.
“What is all this?” Kingsley said.
“I’m going to cup her to try to reduce the fever,” Mrs Dick’s doctor said.
Kingsley looked aghast. “You’ll do no such thing,” he said.
“Will it help?” Day said.
“Cupping will not help anyone with anything,” Kingsley said.
Day glanced at the jars on the vanity. He had seen people cupped before. It was a more drastic treatment than leeches. Incisions were made in the patient’s flesh, and heated cups or jars were placed over the fresh wounds. As the glass containers cooled, blood was naturally drawn up into them. Pints of blood could be quickly extracted from points all over the body.
“It’s barbaric,” Kingsley said. “A relic of the past. There’s no place for such mumbo jumbo in this modern age.”
“It’s hardly mumbo jumbo, sir. I’ll ask you to keep your lay opinions to yourself and leave me to my work.”
“My opinions are not lay opinions. They are not even opinions. They are fact.”
“Unless you are a doctor, sir-”
“I am,” Kingsley said. “What is your name?”
“Entwhistle. Dr Herbert Entwhistle.”
“I’ve never heard of you. You don’t practice at either of the hospitals where I teach.”
“I’m in private practice. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“It is my business now. Tell me you haven’t begun to cut this woman up.”
Entwhistle pulled back his shoulders and thrust out his chest. He looked from Kingsley to Day and back to Kingsley, clearly not accustomed to being confronted.
“No, I haven’t begun making the incisions yet,” he said.
“Good,” Kingsley said. “Inspector Day and his wife were just about to employ me as their family physician.”
He looked at Day, who nodded.
“That’s done, then,” Kingsley said. “And now that I’m in charge here, I’ll ask you to leave.”
“Well, I never!” Entwhistle said.
“Then it’s about time you did,” Kingsley said. “Out you go.”
He made a shooshing motion, and Entwhistle left the room protesting.
“I’m afraid you’ll need to go, too, Detective. Your wife will want her privacy.”
“I’ll be just outside that door,” Day said.
“I’m sure that will be a comfort to her.”
Day smiled at Claire and patted her hand. “Don’t you worry. Kingsley’s a very good doctor.”
“I’m not worried, Walter. Don’t you be worried, either.”
“I have complete faith in you both.”
He gave one last look to his wife as he left the room and Kingsley closed the door after him. Day was left in the hall with Entwhistle and Mrs Dick, who shot baleful stares in his direction but said nothing. A moment later, the door opened again and Kingsley thrust an armful of jars and candles at Entwhistle.
“Take these antiques with you,” Kingsley said. He closed the door again.
Entwhistle narrowed his eyes at Day. “You’ll regret this,” he said. “Don’t beg me to come back here if that quack makes her worse.”
“I’m sure I won’t.”
“You’re a fool, Mr Day,” Mrs Dick said. “Dr Entwhistle has been my physician for more years than I can count. He’s brilliant, he is.”
“And yet he’s been unable to cure your sour disposition.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Do you imagine that my wife and I never talk? That she hasn’t told me about your attitude toward her? You’re meant to be helping her about the house, not belittling her at every turn.”
“Your wife is a foolish, spoiled child and it’s about time someone put her in her place.”
“You may leave with Dr Entwhistle. We won’t be requiring your services any longer.”
“You can’t discharge me from my duties. Only the missus can do that.”
“At this moment, Mrs Dick, you do not want to argue with me. Leave my home and never come back here again.”
She opened her mouth to say something more, but saw the look on his face and checked herself. She turned on her heel and marched down the stairs. Dr Entwhistle shook his head and followed after her without another glance at Day.
Day heard one of the glass jars fall from the doctor’s arms and tumble down the stairs, but he didn’t hear it break. A moment later, the front door opened and slammed shut. Day leaned against the wall next to his wife’s bedroom door and listened to the rainfall against the roof. He had no idea how long it might be before Kingsley finished with Claire.