“A thoroughly dirty dish,” agreed Henning.
“From what Locke has told me, Westmorly knew some dirty secret about Chittenden and was extorting money to keep quiet about it. But—”
“But I can’t see him as Chittenden’s murderer,” interrupted Henning. “First of all, why would a blackmailer kill the goose who lays the golden egg?”
“There’s that,” conceded the earl.
“More important, the knife thrusts that killed both men were done by a skilled hand. Someone knew what he—”
“Or she,” interrupted Wrexford.
“A woman scorned, taking her revenge by murdering the handsome young Tulips of theton?” Henning made a rude sound. “You’ve been reading too many of Ann Radcliffe’s novels.”
“Give me a better plot. For it feels as if I’m getting nowhere in trying to work out a scenario for what was going on within the Eos Society.” The earl braced his elbows on the scarred wood. “However, perhaps I’ve stumbled upon a new lead. Getting back to my question about Aldini and Vitalism . . .”
Wrexford explained about his grotesque discovery in Thornton’s laboratory. “I confess, I’ve paid little attention to such ideas. But as you’re a medical man, I wondered whether you’ve done any reading in the field.”
“I have,” confirmed the surgeon. “Beginning with the discoveries of Galvani and Volta, and their invention of a device that could create electrical current—”
“The voltaic pile,” said Wrexford.
“Correct, laddie. Galvani may be mocked by many as a mere dancing master of dead frogs, but he did apply scientific thinking to his experiments. The fact that electricity could affect a body led him to theorize there existed what he called a ‘nervous-electric fluid.’ He believed illnesses might be caused by blockages of the fluid. And that led him to speculate that electricity might be a powerful force for good.”
Henning cracked his knuckles before continuing. “Thevoltaic pile generated great excitement within the medical world, as many wondered whether it could effect wondrous cures. Fix palsied limbs, bring new vitality to the old—”
“Raise the dead,” muttered the earl.
“Yes, well, Galvani’s ideas were taken to the extreme by his nephew, Aldini. You remember what a spectacle he created over the George Foster affair.”
The earl shook his head. “I was out of the country at the time, traveling with my brother in a remote part of Ireland.”
“You missed nothing but a regrettable farce.” Henning made a face. “Aldini had made himself the darling of London with his demonstrations of making dead frogs twitch. He then claimed his process could bring a man back to life. He got his chance when a man named George Foster was convicted of murder, sentenced to be hanged, and then given over for dissection. Aldini got permission to perform his experiment on the condemned man’s corpse.”
Wrexford grimaced, but said nothing.
“Foster was hung at the gallows of Newgate, and his body was immediately taken to the Royal College of Surgeons, where an audience eagerly awaited the momentous event. Aldini had attached a set of conducting rods to his voltaic pile and pressed them to Foster’s head, caused the jaw to start quivering and the left eye to fly open.”
This time, the earl couldn’t hold back an oath.
“It gets more revolting,” said Henning. “He then inserted the rod up poor Foster’s . . .” A cough. “The fellow’s legs kicked up, his arm raised, and his back arched in a bow.”
“But he didn’t get up and walk away.”
“Nor did he punch Aldini in the nose,” quipped Henning. “Indeed, after that, the public’s interest in the experiment died down, and after further experiments, Aldini conceded that he didn’t have the power to make a dead heart start beating.”
The earl shifted. “So the idea of reanimating the dead went to its own grave?”
“No, there are others who keep searching for the secret of Life. I take it, you haven’t heard of Karl August Weinhold, a German who claims he’s brought animals back from the dead.”
“Surely, you jest.”
“Unfortunately not. His experiments involved dissecting a cat and replacing its spine with a miniature voltaic pile constructed of zinc and copper. Touching the reconstructed animal with a connecting rod from a larger pile supposedly reanimated its heart and made it dance for several minutes.”
“Ye gods. Surely, no sensible person believes in such blatant quackery,” muttered Wrexford.
Henning looked thoughtful. “I happen to agree with you. However, we both know it’s important to be open-minded on such seemingly quackish subjects. One has only to look at the history of science, and how something that is thought to be absurdly impossible in one era becomes routine in another,” pointed out the surgeon. “There is so much we don’t know about the human body, and so much we don’t know about electricity.” He shrugged. “With the new developments regarding the trough battery, a more powerful variation of the voltaic pile, men of science will have far more current with which to experiment. Who is to say what the limits are?”
“I am the first to agree that science holds infinite mysteries that rational exploration can unlock.” Frowning, Wrexford lapsed into silence for several long moments. “You know my heretical views on most subjects. But tell me, do you truly believe that a man can be raised from the dead?”
