Edinburgh Dusk (Ian Hamilton Mysteries Book 2) by Carole Lawrence

Author:Carole Lawrence [Lawrence, Carole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503903906
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2018-09-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The next morning broke bright and sunny, not a cloud in the bluebell-colored sky. Donald prepared a hearty breakfast of coddled eggs, sausage, and potatoes—he was doing much of the cooking now, an arrangement Ian found highly satisfactory.

As the day was fine, they walked to the surgical hospital on Drummond Street, zigzagging through the wynds and closes on either side of the Cowgate. The brothers shared a fondness for taking circuitous routes to their destinations, wandering the streets of the city as they had roamed the hills of the Highlands when they were young.

“Do you believe Margaret’s death is somehow related to her condition?” Donald asked as they turned south on Infirmary Street.

“If not, it strikes me as an unfortunate coincidence.”

“Dr. Bell claims that, in medicine, there are no coincidences.”

“One might very well say the same of police work.”

“Another way in which our professions are not so dissimilar,” Donald remarked as they approached the heavy, ivy-covered buildings of the surgical hospital. They were met at the door by Dr. Bell’s assistant, Arthur Conan Doyle. Ian was surprised by how glad he was to see the young medical student. He did not form friendships easily, but Doyle’s open, earnest face instantly put him at ease.

“Right this way,” Doyle said, leading the brothers down a spotless corridor. The floor was so shiny the sunlight reflecting off it from the tall, narrow windows hurt Ian’s eyes. “Dr. Bell is waiting in the east wing surgical ward,” Doyle added. They followed him past offices, patient wards, and nurses’ stations, finally passing through a set of double doors into a large operating theater.

“I must assist Dr. Bell now,” Doyle said. “Perhaps I’ll see you later.” He slipped back through the swinging double doors, leaving Ian and Donald alone in the rear of the room.

Ian was taken aback by the number of people packed into the steeply raked seats—medical students as well as older men he supposed were physicians and professors. Below them, at the center of the operating “stage,” stood a lone gurney. Upon it lay a body covered by a white sheet; next to it was a tray of gleaming surgical instruments. The air was electric with anticipation, the low voices of the spectators buzzing with excitement. He had never been in such a place before, and seeing so many people crammed into the room made him light-headed. He had never reacted well to crowds or enclosed spaces, a condition the fire had only worsened. As he followed his brother up the stairs, Ian was seized by a wave of dizziness. He grasped the wooden rail on either side of the steps to steady himself, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Are you all right?” Donald said.

“Give me a moment.”

He opened his eyes just as the rear stage door opened, and through it strode Dr. Joseph Bell. Clad in a long white laboratory coat, wavy gray hair swept back from his high forehead, the deep-set eyes thoughtful and piercing, he looked the embodiment of the scientist as intellectual.

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