The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [65]
“You say it was another woman, Sara? That’s unusual—and the motive was money?”
Mr. Moore cut in, trying to blunt the questions with charm: “In New York, Mrs. Cady Stanton, the motive is generally money—and there’s very little in this city that can be accurately called ‘unusual,’ I’m afraid.”
In a snap, Mrs. Cady Stanton’s expression became much cooler, and she turned a stern eye on Mr. Moore. “Indeed, Mr.—Moore, is it? Well, I’ve lived many years in New York, on and off, Mr. Moore, and not always in the best of neighborhoods. And I think I can safely say that an attack by one woman on another in Central Park in broad daylight is not a common occurrence. Perhaps one of these policemen will confirm that.” She tossed her head in the direction of the Isaacsons, who, while at a loss as to how to handle her, were clearly annoyed at being so labeled.
“Oh!” Lucius said, taking out his handkerchief to wipe his forehead, “I couldn’t—that is—”
“Not common,” Marcus finally said, as confidently as I imagine anyone could’ve in that situation. “But not unheard of, ma’am.”
“Indeed?” Mrs. Cady Stanton didn’t care for that answer. “I’d like someone to give me some examples.”
While this little exchange was going on, Miss Howard had moved into one corner of the room with Miss Beaux and Señora Linares, and the señora had begun the actual work of telling the artist what her attacker had looked like. Seeing that the discussion was likely to keep Mrs. Cady Stanton out of this important business, the Doctor stepped in:
“If you have a day or two, Mrs. Cady Stanton, I should be happy to list any number of cases involving violent attacks committed by women.”
Mrs. Cady Stanton turned on him. “By women against other women?” she said, disbelievingly.
“Against other women,” the Doctor said, with a smile that warned he was in earnest. “Daughters against mothers, sisters against sisters, rivals for affection against one another—and, of course, mothers against daughters.” He pulled out his cigarette case. “Do you mind if I smoke? And would you care to?”
“No. Thank you. But you go ahead.” Studying the Doctor for another minute, Mrs. Cady Stanton raised a finger to point at him as he lit his stick. “I know about you, Doctor. I’ve read some of your work. You specialize in criminal and children’s psychology.”
“True,” the Doctor answered.
“But not in feminine psychology,” Mrs. Cady Stanton said. “Tell me, Doctor, why is it that no scientists of the mind make women their field of specialization?”
“It’s odd that you should ask,” the Doctor answered. “I’ve recently been wondering about that very question.”
“Well, let me answer it for you.” Shifting in her chair so that she fully faced him, Mrs. Cady Stanton started to out-and-out lecture the Doctor. “Psychologists do not study female behavior because the overwhelming majority of them are men—and if they were to undertake such a study, they would inevitably find that at the base of all such behavior as you are describing lies a man’s brutal enslavement of and violence toward the woman in question.” The eyes narrowed again, but this time in a friendlier way. “You’ve been in some fairly hot water lately, Dr. Kreizler. And I know why. You’re trying to explain the actions of criminals in their—what is it you call it—their ‘individual context.’ But people don’t want explanations. They think you’re just providing excuses.”
“And what do you think, Mrs. Cady Stanton?” the Doctor asked as he smoked.
“I think that no woman comes into this world with a desire to do anything but what nature intended—to create and to nurture. As mothers of the race, there is a spiritual insight, a divine creative power that belongs to women. If that power is perverted, you may rest assured that a man is involved somewhere.”
“Your words are persuasive,” the Doctor said, “but I find the ideas behind them a bit—difficult. Are women, then, a separate