The Anatomy of Deception - Lawrence Goldstone [112]
“Everything seemed to be going smoothly until six months ago, when I had occasion to come to Philadelphia to consult with a private patient. This patient, quite well-to-do, had a testicular tumor and was too embarrassed to come to Baltimore. He had set up a surgical facility at his country home and asked me to remove the growth there. His personal physician would assist and three private nurses would tend to him during his recuperation.
“More to the point, however, this man had also used morphia, but was of course unaware that we had that in common. He had been attempting to cure himself for years, although his wealth enabled him to remain a user with no one the wiser. Whilst we spoke, he told me of a new and miraculous substance, whose origins and composition were unknown, which had allowed him to break his dependency. It was only available, he said, through underworld channels and was extremely costly, but well worth it to anyone of means who found himself in a similar state.
“As you might imagine, Dr. Carroll, I was buoyed by this news, but unable to request specifics from my patient without revealing my own dependency. I immediately made inquiries in the lesser areas of the city, however—one learns by necessity how to do such things—and was soon rewarded with the information that someone known as ‘George’ was the source of this new drug.”
“And ‘George,’ of course, was Turk,” I said.
“Of course.” Halsted was so terse in his confirmation that I felt a fool for my comment. “I arranged a rendezvous at which I purchased a small quantity of the drug. I had no idea that this mysterious ‘George’ was a doctor, just as Dr. Osler had no idea that he was a drug supplier. To my view, while obviously a more educated and polished sort than one usually encounters in such places, I assumed that he was simply a man who had been raised in wealth and descended into iniquity. I am, as you know, familiar with the breed.”
“Nonsense,” said the Professor. “You have never and will never descend into iniquity.”
Halsted ignored the comment. “Before injecting myself, I performed an analysis of the powder with Frohde’s reagent, as I am sure you have, and then checked the literature. When I came across Wright’s experiment, I knew precisely with what I was dealing. Only then did I inject the drug and, once I did, it became clear that my patient was correct. Diacetylmorphine did most definitely quell the need for the more pedestrian form of the drug.
“I decided to be clever. Not wishing to be dependent on a denizen of the underworld, I attempted to replicate Wright’s experiment. I would synthesize diacetylmorphine myself. Wright must have been lucky, though, because my attempts were not successful. As far as I can determine, acetylizing morphine renders it fat-soluble and therefore more efficacious, but my efforts produced no such result. Assuming that Turk was also not producing the drug himself, my next step was to attempt to discover where he was acquiring his supply of diacetylmorphine, but I failed here as well. I wonder, Dr. Carroll, if you have had more success?”
“Actually,” I said, feeling quite proud of myself, “I have.” I began to recount my correspondence with the Bayer Company, but then stopped, knowing that I could have no honest reason to suspect that a German dye maker was synthesizing diacetylmorphine. But it was too late.
“The Bayer Company?” asked the Professor. “Wherever did you get hold of that?”
I was trying to think of a creditable lie, but Halsted made it unnecessary. Rather than pursue the Professor’s query, he began to tug lightly on his beard.
“Aniline dyes,” he mused. “Very interesting.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Why would a dye maker be involved with such a substance?”
“You should have read further, Ephraim,” said the Professor. “There has been growing awareness in Germany of a parallel between