Абрахам Меррит - Burn, Witch, Burn!

private room, and went through the necessary hospital formalities. Ricori gave the man's name as Thomas

Peters, asserted that he knew of no close relations, had himself recorded at Peters' nearest friend,

assumed all responsibility, and taking out a roll of currency, skimmed a thousand dollar bill from it,

passing it to the desk as "preliminary costs."

I asked Ricori if he would like to be present at my examination. He said that he would. He spoke to his

two men, and they took positions at each side of the hospital doors-on guard. Ricori and I went to the

room assigned to the patient. The orderlies had stripped him, and he lay upon the adjustable cot, covered

by a sheet. Braile, for whom I had sent, was bending over Peters, intent upon his face, and plainly

puzzled. I saw with satisfaction that Nurse Walters, an unusually capable and conscientious young

woman, had been assigned to the case. Braile looked up at me. He said: "Obviously some drug."

"Maybe," I answered. "But if so then a drug I have never encountered. Look at his eyes-"

I closed Peters' lids. As soon as I had lifted my fingers they began to rise, slowly, until they were again

wide open. Several times I tried to shut them. Always they opened: the terror, the horror in them,

undiminished.

I began my examination. The entire body was limp, muscles and joints. It was as flaccid, the simile came

to me, as a doll. It was as though every motor nerve had gone out of business. Yet there was none of the

familiar symptoms of paralysis. Nor did the body respond to any sensory stimulus, although I struck

down into the nerve trunks. The only reaction I could obtain was a slight contraction of the dilated pupils

under strongest light.

Hoskins, the pathologist, came in to take his samples for blood tests. When he had drawn what he

wanted, I went over the body minutely. I could find not a single puncture, wound, bruise or abrasion.

Peters was hairy. With Ricori's permission, I had him shaved clean-chest, shoulders, legs, even the head.

I found nothing to indicate that a drug might have been given him by hypodermic. I had the stomach

emptied and took specimens from the excretory organs, including the skin. I examined the membranes of

nose and throat: they seemed healthy and normal; nevertheless, I had smears taken from them. The blood

pressure was low, the temperature slightly subnormal; but that might mean nothing. I gave an injection of

adrenaline. There was absolutely no reaction from it. That might mean much.

"Poor devil," I said to myself. "I'm going to try to kill that nightmare for you, at any rate."

I gave him a minimum hypo of morphine. It might have been water for all the good it did. Then I gave him

all I dared. His eyes remained open, terror and horror undiminished. And pulse and respiration

unchanged.

Ricori had watched all these operations with intense interest. I had done all I could for the time, and told

him so.

"I can do no more," I said, "until I receive the reports of the specimens. Frankly, I am all at sea. I know

of no disease nor drug which would produce these conditions."

"But Dr. Braile," he said, "mentioned a drug-"

"A suggestion only," interposed Braile hastily. "Like Dr. Lowell, I know of no drug which would cause

such symptoms."

Ricori glanced at Peters' face and shivered.

"Now," I said, "I must ask you some questions. Has this man been ill? If so, has he been under medical

care? If he has not actually been ill, has he spoken of any discomfort? Or have you noticed anything

unusual in his manner or behavior?"

"No, to all questions," he answered. "Peters has been in closest touch with me for the past week. He has

not been ailing in the least. Tonight we were talking in my apartments, eating a late and light dinner. He

was in high spirits. In the middle of a word, he stopped, half-turned his head as though listening; then

slipped from his chair to the floor. When I bent over him he was as you see him now. That was precisely

half after midnight. I brought him here at once."

"Well," I said, "that at least gives us the exact time of the seizure. There is no use of your remaining, Mr.

Ricori, unless you wish."

He studied his hands a few moments, rubbing the carefully manicured nails.

"Dr. Lowell," he said at last, "if this man dies without your discovering what killed him, I will pay you the

customary fees and the hospital the customary charges and no more. If he dies and you make this

discovery after his death, I will give a hundred thousand dollars to any charity you name. But if you make

the discovery before he dies, and restore him to health-I will give you the same sum."

We stared at him, and then as the significance of this remarkable offer sank in, I found it hard to curb my

anger.

"Ricori," I said, "you and I live in different worlds, therefore I answer you politely, although I find it

difficult. I will do all in my power to find out what is the matter with your friend and to cure him. I would

do that if he and you were paupers. I am interested in him only as a problem which challenges me as a

physician. But I am not interested in you in the slightest. Nor in your money. Nor in your offer. Consider

it definitely rejected. Do you thoroughly understand that?"

He betrayed no resentment.

"So much so that more than ever do I wish you to take full charge," he said.

"Very well. Now where can I get you if I want to bring you here quickly?"

"With your permission," he answered, "I should like to have-well, representatives-in this room at all

times. There will be two of them. If you want me, tell them-and I will soon be here."

I smiled at that, but he did not.

"You have reminded me," he said, "that we live in different worlds. You take your precautions to go

safely in your world-and I order my life to minimize the perils of mine. Not for a moment would I

presume to advise you how to walk among the dangers of your laboratory, Dr. Lowell. I have the

counterparts of those dangers. Bene-I guard against them as best I can."

It was a most irregular request, of course. But I found myself close to liking Ricori just then, and saw

clearly his point of view. He knew that and pressed the advantage.

"My men will be no bother," he said. "They will not interfere in any way with you. If what I suspect to be

true is true they will be a protection for you and your aids as well. But they, and those who relieve them,

must stay in the room night and day. If Peters is taken from the room, they must accompany him-no

matter where it is that he is taken."

"I can arrange it," I said. Then, at his request, I sent an orderly down to the doors. He returned with one

of the men Ricori had left on guard. Ricori whispered to him, and he went out. In a little while two other

men came up. In the meantime I had explained the peculiar situation to the resident and the

superintendent and secured the necessary permission for their stay.

The two men were well-dressed, polite, of a singularly tight-lipped and cold-eyed alertness. One of them

shot a glance at Peters.

"Christ!" he muttered.

The room was a corner one with two windows, one opening out on the Drive, the other on the side

street. Besides these, there were no outer openings except the door to the hall; the private bathroom

being enclosed and having no windows. Ricori and the two inspected the room minutely, keeping away, I

noticed, from the windows. He asked me then if the room could be darkened. Much interested, I

nodded. The lights were turned off, the three went to the windows, opened them and carefully scrutinized