The Anatomy of Deception - Lawrence Goldstone [108]
He rose as I entered, dressed as before in a perfectly cut dark suit, with a brilliantly white shirt and collar, pearl cuff links, and dark cravat. A silver-framed pince-nez rested on the bridge of his nose.
He offered his hand, and I realized that, at Hopkins, I had failed to notice the lines around his eyes and tinge to the skin. I had learned during the visit to Hopkins that Halsted was only thirty-seven, three years younger than the Professor, but he appeared at least ten years older. The cause of the disparity between appearance and reality was not difficult to deduce.
We shook hands, Halsted with that same strong and confident grip, and he said, “Thank you for coming, Dr. Carroll. I was hoping to have the opportunity of speaking with you. The last occasion was hardly conducive.” There was still a rigidity to the man, which in Baltimore I had attributed to coldness, but which now seemed to stem more from a need for self-control.
I told Dr. Halsted stiffly that I was pleased to see him again as well, trying once more to read something in his eyes.
The Professor stepped forward and placed his hand upon my shoulder, an odd show of amity after his icy behavior in the hospital. It left me completely unsure of my ground. Might I be reprieved after all, or simply slaughtered more amiably?
“I thought, Ephraim,” he said, “that you should meet the man whose life you are about to destroy.”
“But I was not … never …” I stammered.
“Oh, come now, Ephraim,” said the Professor. “You are not the only person capable of building a theory from incongruent bits of data. We are physicians, after all. We use logical extension every day in moving from symptom to diagnosis. It was not all that difficult to work backward from your activities to the motivation that prompted them. Quite evidently, your theory, which you were attempting to prove by surreptitious visits to the medical library, dens of iniquity and, finally, a cemetery—Oh, yes, we are aware of that—was that Dr. Halsted was complicit in the death of Rebecca Lachtmann and quite possibly responsible for Turk’s murder.” He smiled. “You were also trying to figure out whether I was involved too, eh?”
“No, Dr. Osler,” I protested, feeling my shirt stick to my back despite the chill in the room. “I was not trying to prove a theory … only to find out if it was true. And I prayed every minute that it was not.”
“It was not,” said Halsted, with finality. The eyes behind the thick lenses never wavered.
“The poor girl was finally given a proper interment today,” said the Professor. “It was in the afternoon papers. It was a private affair. I don’t know how the family is going to be able to maintain that she died abroad, though, if they expect to eventually bring someone to trial for her murder.”
I did not comment, although I believed Jonas Lachtmann had little intention of putting his faith in the judicial system.
“In any event, Ephraim,” the Professor went on, “I am afraid you have evaluated the symptoms and come to a faulty diagnosis, but given the circumstances, neither I nor Halsted here can take you too much to task. In fact, in any other context, your behavior would have been quite praiseworthy. You showed yourself to be a dogged and clever investigator and your conclusions were actually quite reasonable. We can only hope that you will continue to bring similar zeal to your duties as a physician.”
“Dr. Carroll,” Halsted said evenly, “I had nothing at all to do with Rebecca Lachtmann’s death and certainly nothing to do with poisoning George Turk, although I will say in candor that I am not the least bit sorry that he is dead.” The dispassion of Halsted’s delivery made the denial itself more persuasive. “The man was evil, a parasite. He preyed on the misfortune of others to line his pockets. I have heard tell that Turk’s activities may be excused because of the deprivations he experienced when he was a youth, but I can think of no justification for performing abortions or selling morphia to those who could not live without it.”
“Activities, by the way, Ephraim,” added the Professor,