Crow Boy (12 page)

Sixteen

‘You!' gasped Tom. He couldn't help himself. It was the third time he'd seen the man. The first had been when he'd just arrived on Mary King's Close, the man had been grinning out at him from the open window of the carriage that had almost knocked Tom down. The second time, weirdly, he'd been standing in the kitchen of
Wagamama's
in Manchester, looking really out of place. Now here he was again, thin, anxious and, judging by his fine clothes, a very rich man.

He took a step back when Tom spoke, a look of alarm on his face. Then he looked to The Doctor as though seeking some kind of explanation.

‘Mind your manners, whelp,' snarled The Doctor and brought the end of his cane down across Tom's shoulders with a force that nearly knocked him to the floor. Tom winced and stepped back, his back stinging. The Doctor moved closer to the newcomer and bowed his masked head respectfully. ‘Lord Kelvin,' he said, in that familiar muffled croak. ‘An honour and a privilege, Sir. I came as soon as I had word of your terrible predicament.'

Lord Kelvin waved a white handkerchief. ‘Let us not stand on ceremony,' he said, in a slow, cultured voice. ‘And let's have no more unpleasantness, please. I'm already living on my nerves.' It was hard to tell how old he was. His voice seemed somehow like that of an elderly man, but the painted face could have belonged to somebody in his thirties.

‘I understand,' murmured The Doctor. ‘I believe it's a child that has been stricken with the contagion.'

Lord Kelvin nodded. ‘My granddaughter, Annie: eight years old and the apple of her late mother's eye. Her father is away in the wars across the border and I'm a widower myself. Annie is all I have in the world.'

Annie
! thought Tom. But he was quite sure this couldn't be the fabled ghost of Mary King's Close, not living here in this fancy residence. A coincidence, he supposed.

‘Your daughter was also a victim?' asked The Doctor.

‘Yes, but not of the plague,' said Lord Kelvin. ‘Consumption took her. She died but two months ago.'

The Doctor shook his head. ‘A sad story, my Lord, yet one I hear so often. When did the child first become ill?'

‘Her maid tells me the sickness fell on her yesterday afternoon. It seemed to come out of nowhere. One minute she was running across the lawn, full of mischief . . . the next she was complaining of a headache and then the vomiting started.' Lord Kelvin shook his head. He stepped closer and took The Doctor's gloved hands in his own. ‘You must help her, Doctor Rae. With all that's happened recently, I couldn't bear to lose Annie as well.'

‘Rest assured, I will do everything in my power,' said The Doctor, and Tom almost laughed out loud at the false sincerity in his muffled voice. ‘But before we go up to see her, there's something that I must broach.'

‘Name it,' said Lord Kelvin.

‘It's just the trifling matter of my attendance money. It's customary to tip the doctor twenty shillings . . .'

Tom glanced at him in surprise. His fee seemed to have doubled since his last visit. Obviously he tailored it to suit each customer.

‘That's of no consequence.' Lord Kelvin muttered quick instructions to the maid, who curtsied and hurried away. ‘Flora will have the money ready for you when you leave,' he said.

‘Thank you. One hates to ask, but my expenses are very high . . .'

‘Please, don't even think about it.'

‘Well, in that case, perhaps you'd be good enough to show us to the patient?'

‘Of course. If you will follow me, gentlemen.'

Lord Kelvin led the way up the wide marble staircase and Tom, The Doctor and Douglas, still holding the smouldering brazier in his gloved hands, went up behind him, staring in awe at their surroundings – walls festooned with rich tapestries, great glittering candelabra hanging from the ceiling. It was a far cry from Mary King's Close and Tom couldn't help himself. He had to ask.

‘What do you do?' he asked Lord Kelvin.

‘Do?'

‘For a living, I mean. You're obviously pretty well off.'

‘Shut your mouth, you impudent cub,' snarled The Doctor. ‘What did I tell you about minding your manners?'

‘That's quite all right,' said Lord Kelvin, holding up a hand. ‘The boy's only being curious and I find his frankness refreshing.' He smiled his rotten smile at Tom. ‘I don't really do anything,' he said. ‘I mean, I don't work. I inherited my wealth. My father owned woollen mills and, when he died, their ownership passed to me. Once in a while I have to go and shake hands with the workers, but that's a tiresome business, so I do it as little as possible. For the rest of the time, I read and I ride horses and I paint a little, landscapes mostly, though I've no real talent for it. And in the season, of course, I go to parties.'

‘That's it?' cried Tom. ‘You get paid to read and go to parties?'

‘Well, I suppose I'm lucky in that I am not required to work for my daily bread.' He looked at Tom with interest. ‘And how, pray, does a young lad like you end up as assistant to such an eminent physician?'

‘Oh . . . I just kind of fell into it,' said Tom.

They had reached the top of the stairs and now Lord Kelvin was pushing open a huge mahogany door. They stepped into a room. Tom thought about the dirty, empty bedroom in which he had found Alison and gazed around in wonder. This room was opulent, to say the least, papered in bright colours and furnished with pieces of expensive-looking furniture: a dressing table, a wardrobe and a huge gilt-framed mirror. A fine rocking horse stood off to one side, poised mid leap, its painted eyes wild, its teeth bared. At the top of the room was a huge four-poster bed, the uprights intricately carved and hung with richly embroidered drapes. They moved closer and now they could see a little girl lying in the bed, dwarfed by its size. She looked like a doll, her pale face staring at the ceiling, her blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, arms stretched to either side. She looked very weak.

‘Annie, my angel, here's the doctor come to visit you,' crooned Lord Kelvin. ‘He's come to see about making you better.'

Annie's blue eyes took in the approaching figure in its leather cape and birdlike hood and an expression of sheer terror came to her face.

‘Grandfather, what is it? Make it go away!'

‘Wheesht, child,' growled The Doctor, stepping up beside the bed. ‘Let's have no fuss. I'm here to help you.' He lifted his stick and pushed her head first to one side and then to the other. Tom could see no sign of any buboes on her slender neck. Now The Doctor set down the stick and, moving closer, he pulled aside the bed covers and, with his gloved hands, clumsily unlaced the front of her gown, pulling the fabric aside. Under one arm there was a telltale red swelling.

‘Ah,' he said. He nodded, stepped back from the bed and turned to look at Douglas. He indicated a window. ‘Prepare the irons,' he said.

Douglas carried the slumbering brazier across the room and, setting it down, opened the window. He began to blow on the coals, coaxing the heat to rise again. The coals reddened instantly. He unslung the heavy leather pouch from his brawny shoulder, set it down on the carpet and unrolled it to reveal the collection of ugly metal implements within.

Lord Kelvin looked down at them uneasily. ‘What are they for?' he murmured, lifting a handkerchief to his face.

‘They are the prescribed treatment for the plague,' said The Doctor. ‘You see this swelling under her arm? It is necessary to slice it open and drain it. I will then insert a red hot poker into the wound in order to cauterise it.'

Tom couldn't see The Doctor's expression, but for some reason he imagined the man was smiling beneath the leather mask as he said these words.

It didn't seem possible that Lord Kelvin's powdered face could look any paler but suddenly, it did. Over on the bed, Annie started to cry.

The Doctor gestured to Douglas, who selected an iron and rammed it into the glowing coals. ‘The treatment is robust,' continued The Doctor. ‘And the child seems rather delicate. You may want to consider having a priest present before we continue. Just in case . . .'

Now tears brimmed in Lord Kelvin's eyes and made two tracks through the white powder on his face. He dabbed at them with his lace handkerchief.

‘It seems so brutal,' he gasped. ‘If only there were some other way . . .'

There was a long silence . . . and then The Doctor said, ‘Do you know, there just might be.'

Lord Kelvin stared at him, sensing hope. ‘Speak, man! Anything would be preferable to the barbaric method you're suggesting.' He waved a hand impatiently. ‘Could you not remove the mask? It's hard to converse, when . . .'

The Doctor shook his head. ‘The mask must stay on,' he said. ‘Too much risk of infection if I remove it.' He came closer to Lord Kelvin, as though to confide a secret. ‘Are you familiar with the work of the eminent English physician, Doctor Wikepedia?' he asked.

Tom would have laughed if the situation weren't so tense.

Lord Kelvin shook his head. ‘I must confess, I'm not,' he said.

‘He's made some truly amazing discoveries. It's hard to believe, but he has created a pill that can cure the plague. Incredible but true! My young assistant, Tom, has worked with the man. Indeed, when he arrived here from Manchester, he brought with him a sample of those very pills, which he was kind enough to give to me. I have already used them to successfully cure other cases, right here in Edinburgh.'

Tom noticed he didn't mention that it was just the one case.

‘Then let us try that!' cried Lord Kelvin. ‘Pills, you say? That's the extent of the treatment?'

‘It is not as straightforward as you might suppose,' said The Doctor. ‘I have but one course of the pills left. Indeed, I have this very day written to Doctor Wikepedia, asking for more but, with the situation across the border, the Civil War and everything, well, it could be some time before I am in possession of them. Two or three weeks, perhaps a month.' He gestured towards the little girl in the big bed. ‘I fear Annie cannot afford to wait that long.'

In that moment Tom realised just how evil a person The Doctor was. He was callously preparing his victim to demand money. Tom felt like running across the room and attacking him with every ounce of strength in his body. But he could only watch, aghast, as the hideous game unfolded.

‘Then . . . I do not understand,' said Lord Kelvin. ‘Why not let Annie have the pills that are already in your possession?'

‘Would that I could, my Lord, but . . . this is difficult for me. You see, I have another patient, a Lady who has also contracted the contagion. Her husband is a man of means, like yourself . . . forgive me, I am not at liberty to reveal his name, but he would be well known to you. He begged me to save the life of his beloved wife and, when I told him that I had but the one dose left and that it really should go to the most deserving case, he assured me that he was willing to pay a considerable sum of money to secure it.'

‘How much money?' asked Lord Kelvin, without hesitation. ‘Whatever it is, I shall double it!'

Another long pause. Tom could imagine The Doctor's devious mind, clicking away as he tried to figure out just how much he could make on this.

‘The other gentleman . . .'

‘Yes?'

‘He has promised me five hundred Scottish pounds.'

‘Then, by God, you shall have a thousand! This is the life of a young child we're talking about. Of course, I'm sorry for the other lady, but she, at least, has lived her life. My granddaughter is only eight years old. I shall write you a note to my bank before you leave here.'

‘Ah . . . that would be . . . inconvenient,' said The Doctor. ‘I would rather be paid in cash, if that's all the same to you.'

‘Cash?' For the first time, Lord Kelvin looked suspicious. ‘That's a large sum of money to procure in cash, Doctor Rae.'

‘I know it. But it's a delicate matter, you see. Because of my position with the City Council. If they were to become aware of such a transaction, it might be . . . awkward for me, do you understand? Doctor Wikepedia's techniques are far beyond their ken. They might not approve of me using them. So, such a payment, if ‘twere made, would have to be . . . untraceable.'

Lord Kelvin nodded. He seemed reassured. ‘I appreciate your position,' said Lord Kelvin. ‘Cash it shall be, Doctor. I will go into the city this very day and withdraw such a sum. I'll tell them it's to purchase art. I often spend money on paintings. And I shall have it here by tomorrow morning. I would however, stipulate one condition . . .'

‘Yes, Lord Kelvin?'

‘Before I part with the money, I would want to be assured that my granddaughter was completely healed of the contagion. I do not intend to pay out that kind of sum on mere conjecture.'

‘I quite understand. Rest assured, I shall visit every day until it is clear that Annie is out of harm's way. There are also a few other things that I would strongly advise you to do in order to give her every opportunity to recuperate.'

‘Whatever you think, Doctor.'

‘The girl should be washed from head to foot with lye soap and her nightdress and bedding changed for fresh ones. And if you could procure some bunches of lavender?'

‘Lavender?'

‘Aye. Festoon them around the bed once everything has been cleaned. It will help to ensure that there is no re-infection.'

Tom bunched his hands into fists. The Doctor was acting as though this was something he'd done before but he hadn't even seen it used until Tom had visited Alison. Tom felt like telling Lord Kelvin about the deceit, but he didn't dare speak out. The Doctor was a violent man and would doubtless thrash him, maybe something even worse, once they were away from here. Tom could only watch in disgust as The Doctor took the packet of tablets from his pocket and handed them to Lord Kelvin.