Howard sat up very straight in his chair. "I know the McHenrys," he said. His pale eyes began to sparkle wrathfully, in anticipation.
"Good. Then perhaps you know that Mrs. McHenry was in frail health and had been so for years. Jon examined her, then demanded to examine their child, a little girl of nine, named Elinor, for he was convinced, he said, that Mrs. McHenry's illness had a psychological basis and not a physical one. Peter objected to Jon examining his child, or even talking to her, but I think Jon insisted—" He glanced at the priest, who hesitated.
"He didn't exactly insist," he said. "You must pardon me. The events of that day are painful to remember. It was all so unjust to Jon, and I was the guilty one who cajoled him into seeing the McHenrys. It is true that Peter objected—at first. Then, if my memory is not failing me entirely, he reluctantly consented."
"Yes," said Louis. "He told Mr. McHenry that his child was—psychotic—and that she was the unconscious cause of her mother's illness, though no one, not even the young mother, suspected that. Mr. McHenry"—and Louis looked at Howard piercingly—"was as infuriated as you were, Howard, when Jon told you about Martha. The truth is very hard to accept, isn't it? At any rate," he continued, when Howard's face darkened with heavy color, "they took the child to neurologists in Philadelphia, I believe, and all examining doctors said she was quite normal. Then Mr. McHenry came to me, shouting that Jon was a troublemaker, an incompetent and a cruel liar, and demanding his removal from staff and Board. He was accompanied by Senator Campion and Mr. Witherby. He said his child had not been Jon's patient at all, had not been called for the child, had insisted on examining her and giving his amateurish opinion—which had caused her parents devastating worry and mental anguish—and acted, in all ways, unethically."
He lifted the paper on his desk. "Mr. McHenry's affidavit, sworn to three weeks ago."
Then the priest spoke through pale lips. "I think Peter will ask for the return of that affidavit, Dr. Hedler."
"Yes?"
"You see," said the priest, and there were tears in his eyes, "little Elinor had an episode that even Peter could not overlook. One of the gardener's boys was teasing her one day, the way boys will tease little girls, and she picked up a scythe and—well, she tried to kill him with it. When her father, who was nearby, tried to take it from her, she turned on him, screaming that he wasn't her father, that he and Matilda had stolen her from her true parents. She was quite—wild. Out of her mind. She struck at him with the scythe, then when he attempted to catch her, she raced for the house, shrieking that she was going to kill her false mother. Peter ran after her. They caught her at the door, and she was—Peter's own words—like a demon. Then she collapsed. When she awakened a few hours later, she claimed not to remember the event at all, but Peter says there was something in her eyes, cunning and watchful, which frightened him even more than her violence. He took the child a few days later to the alienist in Philadelphia whom Jon had recommended." The priest looked down at his shoes. "Dementia praecox, as Jon had diagnosed. Paranoid type. The girl is now confined in a private sanitarium."
"Dreadful," said Louis. "The unfortunate parents." But his voice was a little relieved. He wrote something quickly on the paper. "Perhaps you can induce Mr. McHenry to say he was mistaken in making this affidavit, and to tell the truth."
"I am sure I can," said Father McNulty. "He wrote to Jon, I believe, asking his pardon, but Jon never answered him. You know—Jon," and he looked at Howard. "Very unbending. And proud. Peter would have always repudiated that affidavit, Doctor, if he had remembered it. But he's very distraught just now, and consoling his wife."
"To be sure, to be sure," said Louis, but he did not sound too sympathetic. He lifted another paper. "A similar complaint by Elsie Holliday. She complains that Jon was not the doctor of her son, Jeffrey, but only a friend. However, she swears, Jon forced himself on the case, insisted on diagnosing it. I am not at liberty to tell you what his diagnosis was, but Jeff did die a short time later in a sanitarium in another state, of the disease Jon diagnosed correctly. It still remains, however, that Jon did examine Jeffrey without permission of Jeffrey's physicians and under the protest of the mother. She claims that Jeffrey did not give Jon permission, either. Of course, it is a technicality but an unpleasant one, but if the facts are so, it does not reflect comfortably on Jon. But hardly enough to cause the revocation of his license. However, we know the town, and we know Jon's enemies, who insist on repeating the scandals against him, and this is just one more, such as the Harper rumor, and then the accusation spread by Peter McHenry among his associates before he discovered that Jon was entirely correct. One thing piles on another. It makes for miserable reading in the mass, though individually it means little. Cause only for a reprimand, if that."
"And all that, on top of what Martin Eaton is now swearing, and the curette, is a lovely story," said Howard, making a sick mouth.
"Yes. Yes, indeed. Martin's story and the evidence of this curette is very damning, in spite of what we know to be the facts. I wish Tom Harper were alive to repudiate the rumor, which the Senator and old Witherby heartily believe. Or, at least they pretend to. Incidentally, Old Jonas told me—swore to it, in fact—that Jon had accused him, without proof, and on later examination, of trying to commit suicide. Jon was not present when Jonas was admitted to the hospital. I think he was out of town. Jon is his family physician, however, and returned a day or two later to take charge of Jonas. Now, it was really very reckless of Jon to tell his patient later that he believed him to have attempted suicide. We all know old Jonas. His one terror is of dying. He wants to live forever. I don't know the true story or what made Jon accuse Jonas of a crime, but that, too, is a sorry tale. It could have serious repercussions, you know, for a physician is supposed to report an attempted suicide. Jon did not."
"It smells," said Howard. "It smells to high Heaven."
"That is my opinion, too," said Louis. "But everyone in Hambledon is certain that old Jonas is a saint, and his word would be taken against Jon, who is not regarded as much of a saint." Louis smiled briefly. "I have Jonas' affidavit here. 'As a good Christian man, as my friends can all attest, I deeply resent Dr. Jonathan Ferrier's accusation, to me, that I attempted to kill myself with a dose of arsenic. This is libelous in the extreme. Et cetera, et cetera.' "
"You know," said Howard, "I feel as if I am in a crazy, malignant dream."
"It has been my experience," said Dr. Hedler, "that this is a most malignant world. What did Pope say of it? 'Where every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.' Yes, indeed."
Howard was thinking. "Coming back to that—that curette. Anyone could have taken it from Jon's cabinet. It's in his examination room." He paused.
"But, they will ask, if Mavis visited an unknown abortionist, why did she take the curette with her? He'd have had one of his own."
"Perhaps he asked her to bring Jon's."
"There is that possibility, yes. But that will hardly be believed, you know. People will ask, 'Is Dr. Ferrier actually accusing a doctor, an abortionist, of asking for another man's instrument? Aren't abortionists more circumspect than that, or is Ferrier implying that there is a deep-laid plot against him, and that the abortionist deliberately killed Mavis to involve Jon? That is what they will say, and no one will believe it. We don't even believe that ourselves, do we?"
Howard shook his head dismally. "No, I don't believe it, either. Mavis is dead. I suppose we'll never have the real story."
The priest said. "Murder will out"
Louis replied, "I am sorry to disillusion you, Father. It often is concealed forever."
Now he was frowning. "I am approaching the really serious matters, and these cannot be explained and are totally damning if true. I have here the affidavit of one Mrs. Edna Beamish of Scranton, formerly of Kensington Terraces, in Hambledon. She alleges that on a certain day—the date is here—Jonathan tried to perform an abortion on her in his offices. She had come to him for that purpose, she swear
s, because she is a young widow and did not wish to bear a child without a living father. She is very penitent. She claims that she was distracted with grief for her dead husband and hardly knew what she was doing. However, the pain she suffered in Jonathan's offices caused her to scream so loudly that she was heard not only in the waiting room but on the street, also. She was in such pain and so terrified that she would not let him proceed, and left. He had demanded two hundred dollars, she swears. She left for her home. Unfortunately—and there is an affidavit from a certain doctor in Scranton to this effect—the injury to her was so extensive— something about the complete dilatation of the uterus—that she did in fact abort later. Two days later, in Scranton, while visiting friends. The doctor, who swears in his own affidavit that an attempt had been made to abort the young lady, is a man of high reputation and standing. He was forced to operate on her. She was hemorrhaging. It is doubtful that if she remarries, she will ever be able to bear children, the damage done by the abortionist was so extensive and the resultant inflammation so widespread."
Louis looked at the two appalled men. "Gentlemen, that was a crime. There is no extenuation. It was a serious crime. The young lady was slightly over three months pregnant. Moreover, we now have affidavits of patients who were in Jon's office that day. The affidavits were reluctantly given, and how Campion and company discovered who those patients are I simply do not know. But they are here—sworn to by simple, honest people of good reputation in Hambledon, who like Jon and only gave these affidavits under pressure. They testify to the young lady's screams and her protestations of agony, and her accusation that Jon was 'hurting' her. They have described her disheveled state and her denunciations as she 'fled from his inner rooms."
"The affidavit from Mrs. Beamish was sent to Senator Campion, who, as her Senator, was outraged. It seems that he had had a warm acquaintance with the late Mr. Ernest Beamish and esteemed him highly. So Kenton, of course, investigated. The young lady's affidavit, on the face of it, and her doctor's affidavit, then can be considered genuine."
"I don't believe it," muttered Howard. "Something smells again. I don't believe it."
"Knowing Jon, I do not believe it, either," said Louis.
"I don't believe it," said the priest, and shuddered.
"Nevertheless," said Louis, "there are the hospital affidavits, the attending surgeon's affidavit, and the fact that Mrs. Beamish was indeed in Jon's office, and that indeed other patients heard her screams and saw her flee. Moreover, we now have affidavits from Mrs. Beamish's husband's executor, and from that doctor in Scranton, that they visited Jon, alleging that there was a bill due him. He pretended, they said, not to recall Mrs. Beamish immediately, and then admitted that he did. He told them frankly that she had been three months pregnant, but had 'incontinently,' run out before he had completed the 'examination,' and that therefore she owed him nothing." Louis smiled his wry smile. "On the face of it, that sounds absurd. No other doctor would have refrained from sending a bill. After all, he did partially examine her. Even if the examination had not been completed, there was still his time, and his good faith in proceeding with an examination she had requested, herself. So, Jon stands damned there, too."
"But he will have his records of Mrs. Beamish," said Howard Best, the lawyer. "And no abortionist keeps records of his patients."
"True. Let us hope he has his records still. Of course, before a judge and jury, the showing of such a record will not carry much weight, but it will still carry some. Now, let us go on.
"I have here two affidavits from two other young women, a Miss Louise Wertner, seamstress, of Hambledon, and a Miss Mary Snowden, milliner, also of Hambledon. The young ladies—if one can call them such—were indiscreet, indulging in premarital experiences, as they admit themselves in their affidavits. One girl is nineteen, the other twenty-one, and in poor circumstances. They had heard, they say, of some 'rumors' in connection with Dr. Ferrier, and in their extremity had gone to him, and he readily consented to perform the abortions, even to declaring that he detested children and did not blame the girls for wishing to rid themselves of their 'burdens.'"
The froggy eyes surveyed the two silent men on the other side of the desk, both looking cold and a little shriveled and despairing.
"The young ladies do not know each other. But one paid fifty dollars for the alleged abortion, the other paid seventy-five. Jonathan had his office clerk send them bills to their homes, one dated November 10th, 1900, the other November 21st, the same year. I have those bills here. They went to his office lately, the clerk recognized the bills, accepted payment of them, and receipted them. Would you care to look at them, gentlemen?"
They examined the damning bills, and the receipts. Howard put them down quietly on the desk, clasped his hands together and studied them. Then he said, "There is no proof that Jon aborted them, as they claim, is there?"
"In a way. They both suffered some slight ill effects a few days later. They went to separate doctors, who, in affidavits I have here, swear that the girls had been pregnant and that a recent abortion had been performed on them. The doctors are reputable. Neither knew that Jon was the 'culprit' One of them is on the staff of this hospital itself. Dr. Philip Harrington. I have had Phil in here, told him none of the things in the affidavit, and asked him about Miss Wertner, his patient. He readily stated that indeed the girl had had a recent criminal abortion, that her condition at no time had been serious, but that she had complained of cramps. She stayed one day in the hospital. You both know Phil Harrington. As I already have an affidavit from the other doctor, I asked Phil to make one also, and he did so. He is about to be married. He says he would like to meet the 'criminal' personally, who had killed those embryos, and deal with him himself."
Howard said in a dull voice, "Wasn't that indiscreet of Jon to send the girls bills—if he really did perform the operations?"
"Not in ordinary reasoning. The girls did not have the money. He was sorry for them, or even wished to abort them for some twisted reason or other. Or, he wished to conceal criminal activity and sent them bills for 'complete physical examinations,' as the bills themselves state clearly. There is another thing: the usual fee for examination, conducted for patients who are in such poor circumstances, is usually far smaller than this. The best physicians ask only fifteen dollars, for such examinations take several days, of at least one hour a day. Quite often, under the rule of charging less for the poor, and charging more for the rich, a doctor will charge only a very few dollars."
"How did it happen, Doctor, that you received those two affidavits?" asked the priest, who appeared quite ill.
"It is the rule, Father, that when a girl goes to a physician and he discovers that she has had a recent abortion, he must report it. Phil reported it to the Board of St. Hilda's. The other doctor reported it to the Friends'. This is to protect the attending physician, who must have witnesses during the examinations. It is also the law. It is very necessary to run to earth those despicable creatures, the criminal abortionists, who put the lives of young mothers into terrible jeopardy. The girls often die, you know. The girls were much afraid to report Jon, for fear of legal reprisals, for they are parties to a criminal act. They were given assurances that if they did report the name of the abortionist, they could be protected and not prosecuted. Still, they returned to their miserable habitations to consider the case. Then they both made affidavits and sent them, one to this hospital, one to the Friends'."
Howard considered long and deeply. Then he said, "I don't believe it. Gall that an emotional statement if you will, but I don't believe it. My lawyer's instinct tells me that it is a lie they are telling of Jon."
"I do not believe it, either," said Louis, and Howard and the priest smiled at him weakly in gratitude. "But still, there are those receipted bills, there are the affidavits of the doctors. Under other circumstances, Howard, what would you say?"
The young man hesitated. Then he admitted, "Guilty."
"So." Louis sighed.
"Campion does not know of these second and third abortions?"
"Of course not. He knows about Mrs. Beamish only." Louis closed the folder. "Campion and company are demanding that I call in some members of the State Medical Board to review the 'facts.' The 'facts' he has given me. Now, Howard, as Jon's friend and his former lawyer, what do you suggest I do?"
Howard rubbed his auburn curls wearily, then examined his nails, then scratched his ankle. "How long is Campion giving you to appeal to the State Medical Board?"
"Ten days."
"Then, you must ask for a longer time. I am going to investigate these serious cases, the Beamish, Wertner and
Snowden ones. The other affidavits are only malice and not worthy of consideration. Except for Jon's curette. Ill try to see Eaton, but he's rabid against Jon. Everyone remembers the Philadelphia papers reporting that he shouted, 'No, not' when the verdict of not guilty was brought in. Then he had a stroke. They also remember that he had loved Jon like a son and was delighted when Jon married his niece, Mavis. Men don't turn against such 'sons' unless for cause, everyone will say. The cause seems obvious. Or, is it so obvious?"
"I do not understand you, Howard."
"It is a rule among lawyers to ignore the obvious unless it is written down in black and white as a sworn statement or a confession. Even then we are suspicious. That's why we scrutinize everything, and that's why we are so often successful in defending a case. The incredible is more often the real explanation."
"I hope you are not catching at straws," said Louis. "Are you going to tell Jon now?"
Howard considered a long time. Then he shook his head. "No, it would only make him furious and even dangerous. You know Jon. No. I want to have some substantial refutation before I talk to him. And, by God, I am going to get it!" He thrust out his long sharp chin belligerently.
Louis was silent for a few minutes. "You know," he said at last, "I am endangering my position here by telling you any of this, Howard. This is all confidential, you see, as Campion warned me, and he is very powerful on the Board, the only layman. They, too, are preparing the case against Jon. He wants to face Jon with complete iron facts and resolutions, and the State Medical Board members. He wants it all done ruthlessly, like a knife cut."
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