The Devil's Grin - a Crime Novel Featuring Anna Kronberg and Sherlock Holmes (7 page)

‘
What do ya
mean?’ she said, and upon noticing Holmes impatient look she added: ‘No, he hasn’t left nuffink.’

‘
Have you seen him?’ I asked.

‘
No,’ she said and
stomped off into the kitchen.

~~~

We made our way back to the station and I asked H
olmes whether he also had got the impression that the woman was hiding something. He only snorted and said with a taunting look at me: ‘Who doesn’t?’

Once in the train, Holmes asked: ‘Is it possible to contract tetanus without a deep and dirty wound?’

‘
Actually, it is. I was thinking about that last night. He could hav
e got tetanus from eating bad or dirty meat. I have seen people eating cats, dogs, and rats, and having not enough patience or wood for cooking them long enough will inevitably result in contracting whatever disease the animal had.’

Holmes
’s eyes glazed over and he was silent for a long time. We had almost reached London when he said: ‘We have to find Big Boots. Could he have contracted cholera, too?’

‘
Not necessarily.’ I noticed the glint of hope in Holmes’s eyes fading.

‘
Would a second cholera victim come in handy to help you solving the case?’ I said coldly and he mirrored my stare. Then he
answered: ‘Without Big Boots, it makes no sense investigating the case. There are not enough data.’

After a
nother long silent stretch I asked: ‘Mr Holmes, I’m rather confused. Two men take a walk together to the Thames. One dies of tetanus while having cholera in the final stage and is thrown into the river. The same having restraint marks on wrists and ankles. Both steal food and a coat just hours before the latter is being thrown into the water together with the man who wore it. That makes absolutely no sense to me!’

‘
Hm…’
answered Holmes. And that was the last word he spoke until we parted in London.

Chapter Five

A week after the Hampton incident, I found a man dying on the floor of my ward. All I could do was kneel at his side, caress his head, and wait for the last seizure to release its grip.

Patients curiously gazed at us, muttering anxiously, angrily, or piteously. The man was perfectly still now, but for a barely noticeable vibration of all the muscles in his tense body. His spine was arched far back, his arms pulled to his side, fists clenched, and feet cramped to an almost half-moon shape. His face wore a devilish grin and his eyes were rolled far back into his skull. All about him spoke of great agony. I placed my other hand on his chest. His heart was still beating but the muscle spasms forbade him to breathe.

‘
Just one more moment,’ I whispered.

His fluttering heart couldn’t accept its fate.

‘
The pain will go away,’ I said gently.

A minute later the strained heart fell silent. No one in the ward dared to speak. The presence of death sealed their lips. Only a few quiet coughs and the whimpering of a child could be heard.

This was one of the hardest things to accept: the moment when death came no matter what I did, and then to let it happen and give both, man and death, peace. And strangely enough, once I accepted it, it gave me peace, too. As if death had touched my shoulder to salute an old acquaintance and to tell me that when he came for me, I would be able to give him that very same friendly salute.

I left the dead man and asked the first nurse I could find whether she knew his identity. It turned out that not a single soul had seen him being delivered. But that was impossible. He couldn’t have walked in by himself. Someone must have helped him.

I spotted the old porter, Mr Osburn, who paced back and forth at the ward’s entrance. He saw me peering in his direction and approached me hastily.

‘
What is it?’ I barked and immediately regretted my harsh behaviour.

‘’
E’s dead, inn’ ‘e?’ He said anxiously.

‘
Yes, he died. Did you know him?’

‘
Oh, no!’ Said Osburn shaking his head, his large ears almost flapping. ‘Didn’ know ‘im. Foun’ ‘im on the street, jus’ in front of ter gate.’

‘
What?’

He was about to repeat him
self, but I cut him off with a flick of my hand. ‘Did you see who dropped him off?’

‘
No, docte
r, am sorry, didn’ see nuffink.’

‘
No one walking away? Or a cab driving off?’

He was thinking hard, pulling his left ear, looking fragile. Osburn was a shrivelled old man, friendly and forthcoming, but lonely in his porter house and probably even more so at home.

He pulled himself together and answered in a clear voice: ‘Now that yer mention it, I heard ter crack of a whip. Then ter whinnyin’ of a horse, jus’ a minute afore I heard ter gasping of a man, tha’ man, yer know, and then I found ‘im. An’ got ‘im here.’

‘
Why didn’t you tell anyone that you brought him in?’ I tried to say it friendly, but failed. He started stammering.

‘
Am sorry, am sorry, I didn’ know what ter do, ‘e were a dyin’ man, yer know, and I jus’… I jus’… put ‘im ‘ere. An’ Billy from ter disinfectors helped, and we didn’ see no docter and no nurses and didn’ know what ter do! I ran around and didn’ find no one, all ter time thinkin’ about tha’ poor man dyin’. And then I came back and you were ‘ere an’… an’… ‘e were dead.’

The old man had tried his best to help and I’d behaved like a snotnose.

‘
My apologies, Mr Osburn,’ I mumbled ashamed. He stammered something unintelligible in response and hobbled back to his little porter house.

I asked a nurse to send the body to the anatomy lecture hall and to announce a presentation at four o'clock for students of medicine and bacteriology.

~~~

I stood in the centre of a room
the shape of a semicircle, a single marble slab with a contorted corpse in front of me, and behind it several rows of students. Most of them were familiar to me and the few new ones in the first two rows would soon push back. The room was packed; murmurs and the scraping of feet filled the air.

I coughed and most faces turned into my direction. The ones who knew the rules elbowed the new students who were about to light their cigarettes or pipes, resulting in a short moment of confusion and muttering.

‘
Ladies and Gentleman!’ I announced - it was my private bold joke, as only male students were admitted. Not to mention male lecturers. After a short moment the hall went quiet. My reputation here was such that students obeyed the few rules I set: no talking and no smoking or they would have to leave immediately. But they also knew there wouldn’t be a dull moment in the next hour and a half.

‘
Today around noon, this man was found at the entrance gate. He had severe muscle spasms and couldn't walk any further. He was brought into the ward for infectious disease and died within minutes. Can anyone tell me the cause of death?’

After a moment, a new student from the front row squared his shoulders and cried: ‘Tetanus!’

I smiled. ‘You might be wrong there.’

He
defended himself: ‘With all due respect, Dr Kronberg-’

‘
I do hope so, Mister
, but I fear you forgot to introduce yourself.’

‘
My name is Wallace McFadin.
’

‘
A Scot! Very well then!
I like your music, Mr McFadin, do you play the bagpipes well?’

‘
Er... I'm... I don’t play
bagpipes.’

‘
But you are Scottish?’

‘
Yes, I am.
’ He was a little red faced now.

‘
So if you are a Scot, why don't you play the bagpipes?’

‘
Only because I'm a Scot doesn't mean I play the bagpipes!’ He slammed his hand on the table in front of him.

‘
Exactly!’ I cried and saw that I had lost him. ‘My apologies, Mr McFadin, I used you for a demonstration. When you meet a Scot he doesn't necessarily play the bagpipes. The same is true for Mr Unknown here.’

I pointed to the man on the slab. ‘He died while exhibiting severe muscle spasms. You can see all the typical tetanus symptoms including the remarkable devilish grin!’

I touched the man’s face and was wondering how many of my students felt repelled, how many pitied the man, and how many were amused by his shocking appearance. I looked back at them and continued. ‘But does that necessarily mean he died from tetanus? No! It doesn't! I urge everyone in this room to be cautious and not let our limited knowledge mask our senses. Just because we
think
it must have been tetanus that killed the man, doesn't necessarily mean this was indeed the case. Preconception prohibits learning! Only after we have learned all there is to learn, after we have studied and observed, only then can we draw our conclusions. And don't expect that you will always find an answer. If you have done your very best and still can not find an explanation, it is acceptable to admit that you do not know the answer.’

Several students were looking a bit perplexed now. I knew they had learned that superiority goes hand in hand with practicing medicine. This, in my opinion, was all rubbish.

‘
You must see yourselves as scientists. And science is a work in progress. As is learning. You are solving a bacterial crime, gentlemen! I know your anatomy professors teach you to view the person you are dissecting as a subject. It is easier to slice apart a thing than a human being. But if you do so, you are ignoring important facts. The man could have died of an infectious disease, which makes him a human being with a significant history. A history that you have to reveal! How else would you identify the causative agent and aid in the prevention of further infections? Read up on Dr Snow’s reports on the last cholera outbreak and how he found the pump on Broad Street as the vector of transmission. The man investigated the history of the cholera fatalities and only that made him successfully prevent any further spreading of this disease! When you wake up in the morning - every morning! - I want you to think of the only thing we know for sure, which is, that we indeed know very little. After you have done so, throw away one of your favourite preconceptions.’

McFadin's colour turned back to a normal shade and he almost looked proud now. Everyone was glued to my lips and the show could begin.

‘
Now, if you please,
’ I waved them forward. That was unusual for anatomical demonstrations. Normally, students were asked to keep a respectful distance. Not during my lessons, though. I wanted them to observe closely. But I had to keep an eye on the faint hearted ones; it usually helped them when I gave them something to do. But so far, everyone looked brave. ‘Now tell me, what do you observe?’

Several students answered.

‘
His clothes are dirty and old.’

‘
He is thin.’

‘
He is poor.’

‘
He has brown hair.’

‘
He is about forty years old.’

‘
His body is distorted.’

I interrupted
: ‘Thank you very much! We can safely assume that the man was poor, has brown hair, and was probably thirty years old. Poverty often makes one look older than one really is. And his body is distorted. Can anyone say where the man came from?’

Everyone shook his head.

‘
Exactly. So far, we can't tell.’ I fetched a pair of scissors and cut away trousers, shirt, and underwear. I took off his shoes and placed everything next to the slab on the floor.

‘
What can we see now?’ I asked the group.

‘
He is naked!’ someone shouted and we all had to laugh.