“Oh?” There is surprise in Liam’s voice.
Taylor is also surprised she said it.
“Well, my aunt, too,” she adds and then winces. Why is she offering more information than needed?
“They live here?” Eduardo asks.
“My mom used to. How about you?” she asks Eduardo, anxious to shift the conversation.
“I came from Colombia twenty years ago. I studied engineering there, but here, well, here I am.” He smiles, and any tension she seems to have previously incurred vanishes.
“An engineer, reader, and now part of the Knox,” Taylor says. “Impressive.”
“Yes, we are lucky to be here. You are lucky now, too,” he says. But the way he says it seems like he’s reminding her.
Liam leans his head on his hands on the bar countertop. “Well, New Girl, you didn’t askme, but I’ll tell you anyway. Peter is the one who brought me here, from across the pond.”
“Oh, really? You knew each other?” Taylor feels her face further warming; it’s like a Pavlovian response when she thinks of Peter.
“I used to bartend at a dive bar, round the corner from an East London hotel he liked to stay at.”
“Oh, that’s lucky,” she says.
“It’s not about luck. You create your own luck. Peter taught me that. I’ve got a lot of respect for him. I knew him for many years, helped him out once in a situation. He knew he could trust me. It’s all about trust here, you see, New Girl?” He twirls the end of a small black cocktail straw in his mouth.
“Liam is right. It is about trust here,” Eduardo says. “You work hard, but you get rewarded. I get to stay in this country because of them. Any problem is taken care of.”
Just then Jerry reenters the room and reports that the men have cleared a lot of the debris. Eduardo’s eyes brighten with his arrival, like they always do. Is there something going on between the two of them?
“The room they’ve uncovered is maybe a third the size of this,” Jerry relays, gesturing around. “It’s got a wooden table inside, like an old-fashioned doctor table.”
Old-fashioned doctor table?
“Ah, that makes sense. One of the portraits downstairs is of a Dr.Robert Thurgood. Maybe he used to see the patients here?” Eduardo muses.
“Did they find any bodies?” asks Liam, with a wicked grin.
Taylor stiffens.
“Liam,” Eduardo chides.
But Jerry answers seriously. “No,” he says. “Not yet at least.”
Diary Entry of Dr.Robert Thurgood
April 12, 1851
Having practiced as a physician for several years in the traditional setting, my professional interest has reached a critical juncture. I am far less struck by the conversational manner in which patients are apt to discuss with me their most troublesome symptoms, which are often unrelated to the medical issue at hand, and, indeed, lead to an admitted inattentiveness on my part. Yet I remain deeply intrigued by the human body itself.
Thenceforth, it is my intention to turn my attentions to the burgeoning field of autopsies. The human body, devoid of conversation, shall make a most excellent subject that will further advance my medical practice. And an admittedly more pleasant patient encounter. However, it is not without difficulty to procure adequate specimens owing in part to current restrictive state laws and less-than-favorable public opinion.
I have, at my disposal, the necessary ingredients to ensure my own successful endeavor into the field of advanced anatomical study: a basement office, by which bodies may be easily transported to and from, and which provides the necessary concealment of smells; several cemeteries that are within a quarter mile; and a discreet caretaker who has agreed to procure cadavers for $25 a body.
Taylor
Rose does indeed decide to send Taylor to purchase the items on the shopping list.
“Is there a time I need to be back by?” Taylor asks, fingering the wad of cash she’s been given.
