“I’ll return in a moment,” Fru Finberg said, and she left the room in a hurry.
Pain kept Elizabeth on the table, and the moment stretched to the unseen horizon of her life. What would she do with another mouth to feed? How could she do all that she must to protect and love a child when she could hardly take care of herself? As difficult as that seemed, she wondered if the child might be her way out of her situation with Klaudio. He would not want her to keep the child, but she didn’t think he’d want the trouble that would come from trying to separate her from it. She could always seek alms from the Church.
Fru Finberg returned ten minutes later with a pale, dark-haired woman.
“This is Fru Dahlgren,” she said. “She’s a midwife.”
“Good evening, Fru Gustavsdotter,” the woman said as she went to work.
Elizabeth didn’t respond because the idea of a greeting under such circumstances seemed foolish.
Fru Dahlgren positioned herself between Elizabeth’s legs at the end of the table and began an uncomfortable examination. The midwife moved to the side, placed a pinard horn on Elizabeth’s abdomen and listened, then changed the position of the device and listened again. Fru Dahlgren shook her head. “Labor has come early. You’re four months pregnant?”
“I’ve missed my monthly flow for five at least,” Elizabeth said.
“Labor has begun. I can’t find a heartbeat.”
Elizabeth had a sinking feeling in her gut.
“You must prepare yourself for a stillbirth,” the midwife said. “I’ll be here to help you deliver.”
She had lost her child before either of them had been given a chance. Was that nature’s way of protecting the innocent from a life of suffering or had the infant, in fact, rejected its own mother as unfit? No, Elizabeth would have cleaned herself up, got honest work and been a loving mother.
Fru Finberg held out a hand and Elizabeth took it and hung on until her labor was over.
When she saw the dead child, she felt a depth of loss she hadn’t expected. The assistant physician asked if she wanted the child’s name to be recorded in the Kurhuset records.
Elizabeth said without hesitation, “Beata Gustavsson.”
Chapter 10: Drastic Measures
Elizabeth did not believe the expressions of sympathy Klaudio gave her upon hearing of her visit to Kurhuset and the loss of her infant. He’d brought to her room blood sausage and bread.
“You must become well before I can send more clients to you,” he said. He looked around her miserable chamber. “I’ll send Ada to help you clean. Within a few days you’ll be better.”
In the next week, she had two appointments for examinations. Elizabeth wanted the disease gone as quickly as possible, yet relished every day she didn’t have to satisfy clients. She’d never expected a desire to be ill or such striking ambivalence.
When Klaudio had gone, Ada appeared at her door. She’d cleaned herself up. “He will let me take two days off if you’ll allow me to help you. Please?”
“Of course,” Elizabeth said, gesturing for her to enter.
Ada helped Elizabeth haul water and wash her clothes and bedding. Unexpectedly, they got along well. Ada also came from a farming community in Torslanda. Her family had fallen on hard times and she’d come to the city for work. Learning that the woman was merely seven years her senior, Elizabeth thought she saw her own frightening future in Ada. Though not quite thirty years old, with her thinning hair, jaundiced skin, hooded eyes, and a decidedly bleak outlook on life, Ada looked to be middle-aged.
She had brought with her a poison cereal to kill the mice. “Poor little creatures,” she said as she sprinkled the lethal grains around the cabinet. “They’re just hungry.”
“Like us,” Elizabeth said sadly.
“Well, no,” Ada said, looking up with an expression of exaggerated sobriety. “They’ll eat anything. This is raw corn. We have sophisticated taste. To poison me, one would have to tempt me with warm buttered dumplings and blueberries.” Ada gave a large gap-toothed smile. “Now that I’ve lost most of my teeth, I can eat all the sweets I want.”
Elizabeth smiled, thinking of her favorite Christmas dinner. “For me, ham and lingonberry jam!”
The two women laughed together. Ada’s unexpected good humor gave Elizabeth a glimpse of what the woman might have been like under happier circumstances.
Elizabeth decided that she liked Ada.
If you let her, she will become a good friend, Bess said.
~ ~ ~
In the following week Elizabeth kept her appointments at Kurhuset, after which she carried her examination reports to the police station. Since her condition didn’t improve, more appointments were required. Klaudio allowed her more time to recover.
Once Ada’s poison had killed the adult rodents, the squeals of baby mice inside Elizabeth’s mattress continued for a while. A short time later their cries ceased. Within a week her bed began to smell of rotting flesh.
At first, she believed the odor a product of her illness. As her condition worsened, the chancre on her vulva became hard, red, granular, and gave forth a pungent smell. Miserable with sore muscles and aching joints, she remained in bed most of the time.
When possible, Ada helped her to and from Kurhuset and the police station.
At best, the treatment for her chancre slowed the advance of the disease. By mid-August, the disease had taken a firm grip. Following an examination on August 13, the staff of Kurhuset placed her in third floor ward with other women suffering from syphilis.
Curtains kept Elizabeth from seeing the worst of the suffering. Even so, she could not escape the demoralizing sounds and smells. She found none of the other women in any condition to socialize. If she started a conversation, her partner invariably used the opportunity to express misery or anger. She decided that most of the patients had gone mad. The moans of those in agony kept her awake at night. She drifted through her days in an uncomfortable half-stupor from lack of sleep.
Elizabeth’s treatments continued, but with a new ointment, one made from cacao butter and mercury, applied four times a day, as well as daily oral doses of quinine. When she saw no apparent improvement after a week, the quinine was replaced with oral doses of mercury sublimate.
The doctors are trying to kill you, Liza said.
The treatment is a drastic measure for a severe illness, Bess said. If you’re patient, they’ll make you well again.
Elizabeth’s limbs swelled and her skin had a painful itch. Her toes and fingertips became bright pink and sore to the touch. On occasion, her heart beat wildly in her chest, she’d sweat heavily, and salivate profusely. Eventually her skin began to shed in thin layers.
Elizabeth stopped looking at the evidence of the illness between her legs. The weeks passed. She drowsed as much as possible, yet found little satisfying deep sleep. Spots appeared on her skin, she had swollen, bleeding gums, severe aches in her joints, and bed sores. With time, she retreated into herself and no longer cared to understand the words of the patients, nurses, and physicians.
Elizabeth knew she would die. Indeed, she welcomed death. She hoped to go to heaven.
After what I did to the old woman, I am not worthy of such a reward, but perhaps God will not judge me too harshly. Even as the thoughts formed, she could not determine in her delirium if she truly believed in God and Heaven. Elizabeth was resigned to whatever might befall her.
A long period of grayness ensued.
~ ~ ~
As the grayness began to lift, Elizabeth wasn’t certain she wanted to emerge from herself. In moments of wakefulness, she squinted fearfully at the ward through half-shut eyelids. The treatments ceased and her symptoms began to fall away, one by one. When she could understand the nurses again, she was told that her disease’s rapid advance had taken the doctors by surprise and that they had finally resorted to injections of liquid mercury to reverse the course of the illness.
Elizabeth was discharged in late-September. A
lthough considered cured, she had continuing appointments and a responsibility to report the findings to the police.
When she returned home, her key fit the padlock on the door as before, but inside the room, she found someone else’s clothing in the cabinet. Banked coals in the stove kept the room warm.
Exhausted after her walk from Kurhuset, she lay on the bed. The mattress was covered with fresh, new linens, and had ceased to smell of rotting flesh.
Klaudio had no doubt had the room cleaned and given it to another of his prostitutes, yet he was too miserly to pay for a new padlock.
Sleep, Bess said. Whoever she is, she will understand your need for rest.
Chapter 11: Rest
Elizabeth looked up at her neighbor’s smiling face in the warm light of the candle lamp beside the bed. Ada had gently awakened her. Relieved to think that the room currently belonged to the woman, Elizabeth was in no hurry to get up. She groaned and stretched her sore and aching frame. She smelled coffee.
Ada sat on the edge of the bed, helped Elizabeth to sit up, and gave her a warm cup. “You’ve grown so thin. Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said.
Ada gave her bread. Elizabeth dunked it into her cup of coffee, took a bite and chewed. She’d never known coffee and bread to taste so good.
“I’ve a story to tell you, Elizabeth,” Ada said, “a wonderful story.”
Elizabeth busied herself with the food and drink, and paid little attention to her friend’s words.
“A woman came looking for you two weeks ago. I was leaving my room at the time. She asked after you, but I wasn’t certain what I should tell her at first. When she asked if I worked for Klaus, I said I did. She said that she did too, and gave me her given name. She said she was Leena—”
Elizabeth looked up, instantly intent on Ada’s words.
“—and that she had worked with you in a nearby household.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said, eager to hear more.
“As we talked I could see she was a decent sort. I told her what had become of you and that we are friends. Because I visited Kurhuset frequently to find news of your wellbeing, I was able to tell about your progress and when you might be released.”
Elizabeth was embarrassed. “What was her response?” she asked
“She was sympathetic. She said that her employer, whose name she would not say, had been looking for you.”
Fru Ellstromsdotter? Elizabeth wondered.
Perhaps to gloat over your suffering, Liza said.
Possibly, Herr Olovsson, Bess said.
“What would he want with me,” Elizabeth wondered aloud.
“I have not spoken to your benefactor, the employer, I presume. Leena took away the news I offered.” Ada paused and smiled before continuing. “Klaus came to me a few days later. He said I was to clean your room and help you when you returned from Kurhuset. He said I would not see clients for whatever length of time it took to bring you back to health. While I cleaned the next day, he brought fresh clothing into your room.”
She got up and moved to the cabinet. “It’s all folded neatly in here.” Ada picked up a letter off the cabinet, and handed it to Elizabeth. “Then, this came for you yesterday.”
Elizabeth tore the envelope open and read.
Dearest Elizabeth,
I hope this letter finds you feeling better. I am saddened to hear of your recent suffering. I did not know that Herr Lydersson kept women in such cruel circumstances until Herr Olovsson asked me if I knew if you were doing well, and I took it upon myself to find out for him. I have since disassociated myself from Herr Lydersson.
When I found out about your suffering, I was reluctant to tell Herr Olovsson about it for fear of revealing that which your pride might prefer to keep. But he is a good-hearted man, and I had a feeling he might find a way to help since he was a policeman for many years and keeps his ties to the city police.
And, indeed, he has been able to help. Herr Lydersson is now watched carefully. His women are to be protected.
When you are feeling well again, hopefully soon, Herr Olovsson has found possible employment for you with a German musician and his wife who have recently come to our city. They eagerly await a chance to meet with you. If you cannot come soon, and the opportunity passes, be assured that Herr Olovsson will make available further opportunities.
Of most importance is the task of regaining your health. When you’re ready, write to me at my mother’s address, 28 Timmer Mans Platsen.
Herr Olovsson said to tell you he misses your coffee.
My most fervent hopes for you,
Fru Leena Jensson
Tears fell from Elizabeth’s eyes as she handed the letter to Ada. The older woman wept as she read. Finished, she took Elizabeth in her arms, hugged her, then stood.
“Rest,” she said before dousing the light, and leaving the room.
Elizabeth needed no further encouragement. She lay back on her fresh, clean bed. With no concerns requiring immediate attention, she gratefully closed her eyes.
Chapter 12: Goodwill
Leena remained the go-between for Elizabeth and Herr Olovsson. She suggested that Elizabeth take a heritable name to create a separation from her record with the police. Out of respect for her family, Elizabeth was reluctant, yet finally she took the name Gustavsson, after the family name she’d given her stillborn girl since it was not so different from her Gustavsdotter.
In November of 1865, she gained employment within the household of the German musician, Carl Kirschner, a violinist with the Gothenburg Grand Theatre. Although Elizabeth’s income was slightly less than what she’d earned within the Olovsson household, she didn’t mind. She had a warm room in the Kirschner home, and plenty to eat.
Elizabeth immediately liked her new employers. Herr Kirschner acted much younger than his forty-four years; his thin body, balding head and expressive features more animated than most men of his age. He had a heavy German accent that Elizabeth had difficulty understanding until she began to pay attention to his movements while he spoke.
His wife, beautiful, graceful Inga, acted like the successful actress she hoped to one day be. Elizabeth enjoyed watching and listening to her, as the woman put at least a small measure of drama into everything she did. With her long, dark hair, full mouth, large blue eyes, and rosy cheeks, she would make a striking addition to any stage.
Their home, though large, was in no way ostentatious, but had a large parlor for social events. The couple held small parties frequently. They led exciting lives with their many friends from the theatre. The handsome men and women who visited the house, charmed Elizabeth with their flamboyant behavior, and their colorful and stylish clothing.
Fru Kirschner studied English with the hope of expanding her potential on the stage. With delight, Elizabeth practiced the use of the language with her. They spent many hours together, having conversations in both Swedish and English, and reading the newly released Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. The story seemed so odd that, even with the visual cues of the illustrations by John Tenniel, Elizabeth and Inga were uncertain they understood the tale at all. All the same, they laughed at their strange interpretations and enjoyed the book.
In brief moments, Elizabeth saw her new life as too good to be true, and had the feeling that she walked through a dream.
To be around such excitement and beauty, Bess said, is certainly something better than the life of a prostitute, and you do deserve it.
Elizabeth knew she’d survived a great ordeal, and felt humbled yet strengthened by the experience. She believed she knew the worth of life for the first time, and eagerly listened to her hopeful half. Liza had little to say, almost as if she were sleeping, and Bess’s attitude came to the fore. Never again must anger, melancholy, pettiness, complacency, and selfishness sully your days, Bess suggested. You can go forth and love life and all it has to offer with a childlike abandon.
While skeptical that she could continue with the same rosy out
look, Elizabeth intuitively knew the truth of Bess’s statements. She clung to her joy and the gratitude that went with it, knowing they were the key to maintaining the positive frame of mind.
Elizabeth knew happiness in the first week as she went about her duties, cooking, cleaning, and serving. In the time that followed, Liza Black Tongue slowly emerged from hibernation.
~ ~ ~
Elizabeth had been with the Kirschners for about a month when they held a party for ten or twelve guests. As the evening wore on and the visitors lounged in the parlor with liqueurs and brandy, the men told of the foolish things they’d done to impress women. When not serving, Elizabeth stood beside the doorway to the hall and listened.
Following a humorous story told by a loud fat man with wild auburn hair, Herr Kirschner spoke up. “My story is not as funny,” he said, glancing at his wife with a mischievous look, “but I’ll tell it anyway. We were hiking in the Alps with the Ehrlich’s, and Inga kept eyeing Hans’s posterior.”
Frau Kirschner blushed, and covered her mouth as she giggled. The guests shouted their approval.
“Although not normally the jealous sort, it came to me that I needed to regain Inga’s attention by an act of physical strength. I decided to climb a rock face. I could have walked a small path to the top, which was some thirty feet up, but my intention was to amaze, to astonish!” Herr Kirschner held his thin arms out in a strongman pose.
The guests jeered in good humor while Frau Kirschner laughed.
I should not know such things about those I serve, Elizabeth decided. She slipped out the door to go to the kitchen to fetch more brandy. As she went, she heard intermittent laughter from the guests between the murmurs of Herr Kirschner’s statements.
Jack the Ripper Victims Series: The Double Event Page 7