Free City of Devils: A Novel by Diana Bretherick Page B

projects over the last few years.’
    ‘Anyone else?’
    ‘Madame Tarnovsky will be there.’
    ‘Yes, the professor mentioned that. I’d really like to meet her. I’ve read several of her monographs on the female offender. I’m actually looking forward to this evening now!’ James paused. ‘And of course, with all of these experts on crime in one place it would be a wonderful opportunity to consult them about the murder.’
    Ottolenghi poured some more Chianti. ‘So tell me, Murray, how long have you been qualified?’
    ‘Not long.’
    James wondered if the somewhat abrupt change of subject was intentional. Ottolenghi seemed almost as reluctant as the professor to get involved in the investigation of Soldati’s death.
    ‘And what brought you to medicine?’
    ‘My father was a doctor. He specialised in diseases of the mind.’ James paused, recognising, not for the first time, the irony of such a statement.
    ‘Are you in private practice? They tell me that is where the money is.’
    James laughed ruefully. ‘Not in Edinburgh. There are too many doctors and not enough wealthy patients to go round for that to be true. No. I was working with my father until . . . recently. I haven’t practised on my own account yet. I don’t know if could now.’
    ‘Oh, I see,’ replied Ottolenghi, who evidently didn’t.
    James looked at his new friend’s puzzled expression and wondered whether or not he should confide in him. He decided against it. They had not known each other long enough. Perhaps one day he would tell him everything but not yet. ‘And you, Ottolenghi, are you a medical doctor?’ he asked.
    Ottolenghi smiled and nodded. ‘I am indeed, though it seems a long time since I have tried to heal anyone. These days my patients are either already dead or perfectly healthy.’
    ‘How long have you worked for the professor?’
    ‘A while now. He is such a great mentor and I have learned a great deal from him.’
    ‘Do you agree with all of his theories?’ James asked, curious to see if Ottolenghi shared some of his own misgivings.
    There was a pause. ‘Well, not all. The professor is a great man but he is sometimes—’
    James grinned. ‘A little hasty in some of his conclusions, perhaps?’
    Ottolenghi smiled back. ‘I think I had better leave it there before I get myself into trouble!’
    A waiter brought over their stuzzichini, a welcome diversion that allowed James to change the subject back to the evening to come.
    ‘Will Madame Tarnovsky be giving a paper at the salon?’
    ‘No, it’s more informal than that. It’s a forum for discussion really. I think the professor has a soft spot for the lady, though, so make sure you are attentive to her views.’
    ‘That won’t be difficult. She has done some fascinating work in Prague. I hope she’ll discuss it.’
    ‘I daresay she will if she can get a word in but there is competition. Oskar Reiner from Berlin will be there and he has done some very interesting work on eroticism in crime with a special interest in vampirism, I believe.’
    ‘Vampirism! That sounds interesting,’ James said, wondering what connection there could be between such supernatural tales and crime.
    ‘It is. You should read his paper,’ Ottolenghi said matter-of-factly, as if it was a natural subject for academic discussion. ‘And of course some of our homegrown experts will be there too. They will all, no doubt, have plenty to say, and there’s DeClichy, of course.’
    ‘I got the impression that the professor doesn’t have much time for him. Why would he be invited?’
    ‘Something you should know about the professor, he thrives on conflict; that’s why having so many enemies doesn’t bother him. He considers DeClichy to be so wrong that it makes him look right. That’s why he’s agreed to debate with him at the symposium. He is very fixed in his ideas about things. Once he has made a decision then nothing will change it.’
    ‘Certainty in science has got to be a