And it was his fault for signing a contract with that devil.
Clutching his medical bag with a death grip, he turned off the main street and entered the Redcliffe slum, barely registering his surroundings. How could he pay attention when his thoughts were stuck in a rut of indignation? It wasn’t right that the doctor belittled Amelia Balfour’s intelligence to her face. She’d proven herself more scholarly than most men he knew. Nor was it right to prolong Colin Balfour’s suffering. Oh, he bore it well enough. Such a dauntless fellow. A man of integrity who would’ve made a fine naval officer. Graham enjoyed their daily conversations immensely. In truth, he’d never realized he possessed such a keen need for a brother until Balfour quietly and thoroughly filled that empty space deep in his soul.
As he turned onto Pinnell Street, a maggot-quivering pile of rotted cabbages blocked his way. But instead of sidestepping the mess, he kicked it. Churlish but satisfying, especially when he imagined the refuse splattering against Peckwood’s immaculate trousers. The greedy goblin! Bleeding the Balfours by demanding an additional sum. He was already making a year’s worth of salary from them. And what would he use the money for? Paying off resurrection men to haul in more fresh corpses?
Graham stopped mid-lane. Feet itching to turn right around and report Peckwood to the police even if it meant trouble for himself. But of course there was no way to prove the man’s indiscretions. By now, the corpse was gone, and wily old Peckwood surely left no trail to whoever provided him with bodies. Or did he? Perhaps another visit to the man’s makeshift laboratory was in order.
That settled, he continued on his way to Mrs. Bap’s, when several curses and a moan crept out of a narrow passage to his right. Shading his eyes, he peered into the shadows.
Ten or so paces ahead, a pile of rags huddled on the ground. Two bigger boys kicked at the heap while a younger one pillaged amongst the fabric. A flap of the cloth lifted, revealing a swath of skin. Graham narrowed his eyes. That was no cast-off mound of material.
It was a man.
“Leave off !” he roared as he tore into the thin space.
All three boys jerked their gazes towards him, then without a word, pivoted and sprinted in the opposite direction, their laughter ringing sharply off the brick walls. Shards of gravel flew in their wake. Graham was of half a mind to hurdle the fellow on the ground and pursue them to mete out a justice of his own, but a groan doused that desire.
He dropped to one knee beside the injured fellow. “Here now, I’m a doctor. Let me help.”
Wild eyes met his beneath a flop of hair, grey and matted. Blood snaked out the corner of his mouth. The reek of ale and human waste wafted strongly as the fellow edged away from him. “Don’t need no help.”
Stubborn man. Graham shook his head. “You may have broken ribs after that thrashing. At least allow me to examine you for internal injury.”
Turning aside, the vagrant spit out a stringy wad and a series of profanities that made the boys’ earlier oaths seem like nursery rhymes. “Ye’ll make no coins off ’n me!”
“I seek no payment, only to give you aid.” Graham opened his bag and pulled out a roll of bandages. “See? I only wish to bind your chest should you need it, which—judging by your shallow breaths and the way you’re clutching your side—you do.”
“Skimmin’ and scammin’ is all yer good fer. Begone!” With another groan, the fellow dragged his body back another foot.
Graham frowned. Though everything in him yearned to help the man, the wall of mistrust between them was too great to breach. Nor could he blame him for such wariness. Medical charlatans preyed on victims such as this. How many times had the poor fellow been duped out of whatever pennies he owned for the sake of a fake cure?
Setting the dressing on the ground, Graham rose. “So be it, then. But this is yours for the keeping. At the very least, take it and bind those ribs yourself.”
The man’s gaze shifted between the bandages and him. Back and forth. Like a whipped hound deciding whether or not to snatch a bone. The sight cut Graham to the quick. There was no cure for fear or despair, leastwise not in his bag of tools.
“God’s mercy on you, sir.” Graham wheeled about and, after a few steps, was pleased to hear a rustling as the man snatched up his offering.
But the pleasant feeling didn’t last long before the low-grade anger inside him once again blistered. That vagrant would just as soon sell that binding for a nip of gin than use it to care for his own body. How could God stand it? This world that turned men into animals through want and need and misery? He could barely suffer it himself.
Wadding up all the morning’s fury, he stuffed it down, cramming the black emotion into a dark crevice deep in his heart. Perhaps he’d sort it out later. Review the injustice of the world in the quiet of his chamber by the light of his mother’s Bible. A virtuous thought—if he actually carried it out.
He pounded harder than necessary on Mrs. Bap’s door.
“Come in, Doctor. I know it be you.”
Crossing the threshold, he pinned a smile into place, one that nearly slipped off several times as he examined the old woman. Her ankles were the size of small melons and her heart lub-dubbed an off-beat rhythm. The foxglove wasn’t working. Neither was the hawthorn tea or motherwort poultice on her chest.
With a sigh, he turned back to his medical bag and rummaged about, looking for another answer. A new method or treatment idea. Something must be tried. Had anyone worked this hard for his mother when she lay dying?
Ouch!
Pain stabbed his index finger. In reflex, he lifted the offended digit to his mouth and sucked away the blood. Of all the incompetence! He should know better than to dig into a bag of sharp instruments.
The woman eyed him knowingly. “Something rankles ye today, Doctor.”
Wiping his finger on his trousers, he faced Mrs. Bap with a smile that felt too tight. Would she notice? “Nothing to concern you.”
“I weren’t talking ’bout me.” Gripping the chair arms, she leaned forward in her seat. “What is it that ails you?”
