“Is the constable’s office close as well?”
Virgil shook his head.
“No, that’s up in Maryhill. At least, for now. Rumor has it they’ll be building a new police station over on Craigie Street.” He sighed. “Of course, that’ll be nearly twice as far from Dr. Hall’s office, but luckily the doctor doesn’t mind moving about the city.”
“Tell me,” she said after a few moments of watching the city go by. “How long have you worked for Dr. Hall?”
“Two years now, or, wait. No, just about three. My, the time does go by, doesn’t it?”
“It does. And has he been a kind employer?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Virgil said earnestly, his eyes downcast in the next moment. “It’s why I’m sure he won’t be pleased with me about this business. But if I know anything about the doctor, it’s that he’d be even more upset if I let you go alone. At least now you’ve some protection.”
Grace smiled, pushing off the guilt she felt.
“You’re loyal to him.”
“I am. It was because of him that I’m even alive.”
Grace’s brow lifted.
“Is it?”
“Aye. You see, my father’s a butcher, a successful one too, best in the city. I’ve two other brothers.” He smirked. “But I’m the youngest.”
“I am too.”
Virgil’s smile faded, however, in the next moment.
“A sickness swept through the city some years ago. I was eleven at the time, and just about to start working for my father when it happened. Our whole family became ill, but I was hit the hardest. I couldn’t get out of bed and when the fever and sickness finally subsided, after weeks, mind you, I couldn’t walk.”
“At all?”
He shook his head.
“Barely. But Dr. Hall had started doing his rounds in my neighborhood. A sort of charity he does, from time to time. You see, it’s not only in poor areas. My family has done very well,” he said proudly. “But it was a ravaging illness and the doctor was compelled to help as much as he could during that time.”
“What happened?”
“I was in a great amount of pain, after the fever. My father was sure that if I only got out of bed, I’d regain my strength, but Dr. Hall insisted that I rest, for nearly two months, duringwhich he gave me a number of medicines. When the pain was controlled, he turned to more medicinal herbs.” He shook his head. “My mother called it witchcraft, but then she was from the Highlands and as a girl, had heard stories about miraculous recoveries at the hands of healers. Regardless though, Dr. Hall made it so that I could walk again, and while I never fully healed,” he said, gently tapping his right knee with his fist. “I was able to walk. And when I couldn’t help my father in the butchery, he offered me a job at his pharmacy.”
Grace glanced down at her hands, clasped together in her lap. So, the doctor had used his aunt’s teaching to help lessen Virgil’s illness. It was telling, particularly from someone who appeared so severely attached to the idea that modern medicine was the only way to handle the sick. While there was always room for advancement, Grace was a firm believer in documented recoveries that utilized age-old practices. For instance, where bloodletting was falling out of fashion as something that could drain poison from the bloodstream, it was common knowledge that mugwort helped relieve inflammation, or mint was used to calm nausea. Things that were used in everyday households, but Grace had an idea that there was more to the ancient art of healing that modern medicine seemed to ignore.
“Do not feel sorry for me though,” he said, interpreting her clasped hands and downcast gaze for pity. “I’ve learned a great deal from Dr. Hall and am grateful to him. I hope even one day that maybe I…”
Virgil’s mouth snapped shut, seemingly aware that he might be oversharing.
“What is it?”
He shook his head.
“It’s nothing. See,” he said, gesturing with his hand out in front of them as Grace turned. “There’s the university.”
Curious about what Virgil had been leading to, but more so about the autopsy, Grace knocked on the roof of the carriage, causing the driver to come to a halt. Exiting the vehicle, Grace noted a building made of large gray stone, with a cattycorner entrance and stone figures carved into the exterior walls. Atop a large, rounded window was the image of a man, holding another man’s arm out. They were surrounded by eight others, students, Grace guessed, seemingly learning from the first.
“Is this the university?”
“This building? No, but it is where the medical professors have their auditorium. Dr. Hall has performed several surgeries here.”
