“Something of a breather for you. Much earned, I’ll add.”
“Thank you.” She sat back and looked at him over tented fingers. “Now tell me. What do you want me to do that I won’t like?”
“I sought you out because . . . well, to be frank, the services of a female doctor would be useful.”
“Sounds promising so far.”
“Last night, a constable took a young woman into custody near St. James’s Park. He spotted her walking alone on Birdcage Walk and talking to a pair of privates from the Wellington Barracks. So, she was—”
“Let me guess. The copper arrested her under the Contagious Diseases Acts.”
“Correct.”
“And you want me to perform a forced medical examination on her?”
“An examination required by law.”
“Because the law presumes any unaccompanied femalewalking near an army barracks is a prostitute, most likely a diseased one.”
Julia stood abruptly, her chair legs scraping the parquet floor. She crossed to the window and pushed the curtain aside. A wrought-iron fence edged her front garden, enclosing it from the foot traffic beyond. Sunlight caught the gilded pickets, a golden barricade pointing skyward. Anger radiated like a burn.
“Would any constable questionmyright to walk Finsbury Circus at dusk?”
Tennant stood. “Of course not, but—”
Julia dropped the curtain and turned. “But working women hurrying home in the evening? That’s another story.”
“Julia, don’t pretend you don’t understand the problem. Venereal illnesses are epidemic in the army. Parliament has raised questions about the readiness of our forces.”
“And passes laws that omit the forced examination of males.”
Tennant sighed. “Must we make this another argument about the many ways the world treats men and women unequally?”
“When Scotland Yard hires its first female copper, and they arrest the male partners of the women they exploit, then I’ll stop arguing with you.”
“Doctor Lewis, a job needs to be done. Will you do it?”
“I . . . I don’t think I can be a party to it.”
“For God’s sake, Julia.”
She threw out a hand. “I’m not the only one who thinks forced examinations are medical rape. I signed a petition to repeal the wretched acts. How can I—”
“You can stand on a soapbox on Hyde Park Corner, picket Parliament, or write to the queen, for all I care.”
“But—”
“If you don’t examine this young woman, the divisional inspector will call in a doctor who will. He may be less considerate of the girl’s feelings than you. Is that what you want?”
“Of course not.” Julia dropped onto her desk chair. She plucked a pencil from the desktop and tapped it distractedly on the blotter.
“The girl had a crown and six shillings in her pocket. It’s quite a sum for a hatmaker from Aldgate. She claims she works part-time as an artist’s model and was heading home to her bed.” Tennant shrugged. “She may be lying, but I’m inclined to believe her.”
Julia looked up. “Why did they call you? Prostitution is too commonplace a crime to involve the Detective Department.”
“I was at the station house on another matter. When I suggested a female doctor, the divisional inspector’s first response was . . . let’s say he wasn’t keen.”
“You surprise me.”
