Read Online Murder on Gramercy Park by Victoria Thompson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Victoria Thompson
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The pain is unbearable.” The tears were running down her cheeks unchecked now. Sarah felt her anger melting.
“We won’t let your baby suffer, Mrs. Blackwell.”
The younger woman looked at her with desperate eyes. “I know you’re a midwife, but will you take care of him yourself? Will you come back and make sure he’s all right and help wean him from that awful stuff?”
Sarah could not refuse. “Of course I will, if that’s what you want. Tell me, though, how did you begin taking the morphine in the first place?”
She closed her eyes and seemed to shudder. “It was ... when I was hurt. I fell off a horse when I ... I hurt my back and my neck. The pain was horrible, and they gave me morphine. It was the only way I could bear it.”
“Didn’t you consult any physicians?”
Mrs. Blackwell stared at her in amazement. “Of course! My father called in every doctor he could find. There were dozens. None of them could do anything for me. They said I’d be an invalid for the rest of my life. I didn’t leave my room for almost a year, and I hardly even left my bed. Walking was excruciating and I could only sit in a chair for a few minutes at a time. And then Edmund came.”
“Your husband,” Sarah said. “What did he do that the others didn’t?”
Mrs. Blackwell’s smooth brow furrowed as she struggled to explain. “He touched me. The others wouldn’t touch me. It caused me too much pain. But Edmund told me he could make me well if he could just do some simple adjustments.”
“What kind of adjustments?”
“To my spine. That’s how he cures people. It’s like a miracle. I felt better almost instantly. Within a few weeks my pain was completely gone.”
“But you still needed the morphine,” Sarah guessed.
Mrs. Blackwell closed her eyes again, and Sarah could only imagine the anguish these admissions cost her. “Edmund thought I shouldn’t need the morphine anymore because my pain was gone. My father thought so, too. I didn’t want to take it anymore, so I did what they told me and stopped taking it. I thought I was going to die.”
“Stopping morphine is extremely difficult. Few people ever succeed,” Sarah told her, not mentioning that some of the aids physicians sometimes used were even worse than the agony of withdrawal itself.
“But I did succeed!” she informed Sarah. “It was the hardest thing I ever did in my life, but I did it! I was finally free of both the pain and the morphine. I thought I could go back to my normal life again. That was all I wanted.”
“But you didn’t?”
Mrs. Blackwell sighed, and another tear slid down her cheek. “Edmund asked me to help him. He said he could cure many other people, just the way he’d cured me, but he couldn’t unless those people knew his treatments worked. He was going to give a lecture in the city, explaining his techniques and how successful they were, but he needed someone to testify, someone he’d cured. He said ... I mean, after what Edmund had done for me, how could I refuse?” she asked, her eyes pleading for Sarah to confirm her decision.
“Of course,” Sarah said, knowing she could only imagine the pressure he must have put on her. “You must have been very grateful. But how did your father feel about it?” Sarah couldn’t imagine her own father allowing her to do such a thing as speak about her health problems at a public lecture.
“He didn’t really think it was proper, but he was so grateful to Edmund that he couldn’t refuse. I think he felt some sort of debt of honor to him. Edmund told me what to say. He wrote it out for me. All I had to do was read it, but I was so frightened! There were hundreds of people, and they were all looking at me. I was so terrified, I almost fainted. I don’t even remember giving the speech, but Edmund was very pleased, and many people came to him for his treatments after that. So of course he wanted me to speak again.”
Sarah was beginning to understand what had
“We won’t let your baby suffer, Mrs. Blackwell.”
The younger woman looked at her with desperate eyes. “I know you’re a midwife, but will you take care of him yourself? Will you come back and make sure he’s all right and help wean him from that awful stuff?”
Sarah could not refuse. “Of course I will, if that’s what you want. Tell me, though, how did you begin taking the morphine in the first place?”
She closed her eyes and seemed to shudder. “It was ... when I was hurt. I fell off a horse when I ... I hurt my back and my neck. The pain was horrible, and they gave me morphine. It was the only way I could bear it.”
“Didn’t you consult any physicians?”
Mrs. Blackwell stared at her in amazement. “Of course! My father called in every doctor he could find. There were dozens. None of them could do anything for me. They said I’d be an invalid for the rest of my life. I didn’t leave my room for almost a year, and I hardly even left my bed. Walking was excruciating and I could only sit in a chair for a few minutes at a time. And then Edmund came.”
“Your husband,” Sarah said. “What did he do that the others didn’t?”
Mrs. Blackwell’s smooth brow furrowed as she struggled to explain. “He touched me. The others wouldn’t touch me. It caused me too much pain. But Edmund told me he could make me well if he could just do some simple adjustments.”
“What kind of adjustments?”
“To my spine. That’s how he cures people. It’s like a miracle. I felt better almost instantly. Within a few weeks my pain was completely gone.”
“But you still needed the morphine,” Sarah guessed.
Mrs. Blackwell closed her eyes again, and Sarah could only imagine the anguish these admissions cost her. “Edmund thought I shouldn’t need the morphine anymore because my pain was gone. My father thought so, too. I didn’t want to take it anymore, so I did what they told me and stopped taking it. I thought I was going to die.”
“Stopping morphine is extremely difficult. Few people ever succeed,” Sarah told her, not mentioning that some of the aids physicians sometimes used were even worse than the agony of withdrawal itself.
“But I did succeed!” she informed Sarah. “It was the hardest thing I ever did in my life, but I did it! I was finally free of both the pain and the morphine. I thought I could go back to my normal life again. That was all I wanted.”
“But you didn’t?”
Mrs. Blackwell sighed, and another tear slid down her cheek. “Edmund asked me to help him. He said he could cure many other people, just the way he’d cured me, but he couldn’t unless those people knew his treatments worked. He was going to give a lecture in the city, explaining his techniques and how successful they were, but he needed someone to testify, someone he’d cured. He said ... I mean, after what Edmund had done for me, how could I refuse?” she asked, her eyes pleading for Sarah to confirm her decision.
“Of course,” Sarah said, knowing she could only imagine the pressure he must have put on her. “You must have been very grateful. But how did your father feel about it?” Sarah couldn’t imagine her own father allowing her to do such a thing as speak about her health problems at a public lecture.
“He didn’t really think it was proper, but he was so grateful to Edmund that he couldn’t refuse. I think he felt some sort of debt of honor to him. Edmund told me what to say. He wrote it out for me. All I had to do was read it, but I was so frightened! There were hundreds of people, and they were all looking at me. I was so terrified, I almost fainted. I don’t even remember giving the speech, but Edmund was very pleased, and many people came to him for his treatments after that. So of course he wanted me to speak again.”
Sarah was beginning to understand what had
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