Jolimont Street Ghost by Jeremy Tyrrell

Author:Jeremy Tyrrell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ghosts, occult, demon, victorian, ghost hunting, scientific method, paranormology

Doctor Halfpenny

Within a quarter of an hour I was shivering on an examination bench, stripped to my underwear, feeling weak, sad and awfully sorry for myself.

I fought back tears as Doctor Halfpenny liberally applied a strong smelling concoction to the wound that aggravated all of the nerve endings in the raw flesh of the leg-wound.

“I'm sorry, but it has to be done. This will clean it out and speed up the healing. That's a nasty gash you've got there. Keep this dressed for the next few days, changing the bandages over each day until the scab fully forms,” he instructed, “Apply this unguent and cover it with fresh plaster each morning.”

“Yes, Doctor,” I said.

“And if you can safely track down the dog that did this to you, shave off some of its hair and add it to your brew. That will help.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Only this is the strangest dog bite I ever did see. Normally it's ragged, there is bruising about the bite, saliva, all of that. This is fresh and clean, almost surgical,” he said, looking closer, “What kind of dog did you say it was, again?”

The Professor, evidently waiting just outside the door, hurried in, “Hello, Doctor Halfpenny, good to see you, just, ah, how do you do? Just checking in on my assistant and how he might be doing, eh?”

“Hello, Professor. If you don't mind, I do like to keep my consultations private.”

“Of course, of course, but he doesn't mind, I'm sure, do you laddie?”

To be perfectly honest, the familiarity that came from our professional relationship had not quite extended to having him see me in my underwear. Even so, I did my best to appear nonchalant and gave a shrug and a nod.

Doctor Halfpenny looked between us, muttered something to himself, scribbled a note in his notepad and continued the examination.

“Well, if you will, Professor, please do not interrupt. I'm sure a man of your qualifications understands the necessity of uninterrupted concentration.”

“Of course, Doctor, I am an advocate and evangelist,” the Professor replied.

“Quite,” he turned back to me, “Now, have you been hurt anywhere else?”

“My back. I think it is bruised, it is so sore,” I said.

“Your back? Laddie, just how big was this dog?”

“I, um, I don't know. Does it matter?”

“Normally dog bites are accompanied with injuries to hands and arms, not one's back.”

Suddenly aware of the Professor's glare, I said, “Er, maybe it wasn't a dog.”

“Not a dog?”

“It was dark, I couldn't see very well.”

“It's the middle of the day.”

“Yes, but, um, I was in a cellar.”

“A cellar?”

The Professor interrupted, “Oh, you know these young, adventurous chaps, poking around in places they don't belong, getting into mischief in all sorts of ways. Who knows what he got up to?”

“I need to know the nature of the injury, the provenance and context, otherwise I may make a misdiagnosis.”

“I'm sure that won't be the case.”

“Professor, please,” Doctor Halfpenny chided, “If I am to properly examine the patient, I need him to answer in his own words. Now, young man, can you please describe how you obtained this injury?”

“Well, er, yes.

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