Free City of God by Beverly Swerling Page B

totally unreasonable. Mankind has suffered these ills for all the years since Adam. Now you propose to cure them. With two thousand a year.”
    “I propose to study the methods by which they may be cured.”
    “At of all places the Almshouse Hospital.”
    “It’s the perfect place to make a start, Cousin Samuel. I want to equip a laboratory and put a half-dozen promising medical students to doing anatomies under my close supervision. That’s how—”
    “Cutting up the bodies of the dead.” Samuel snapped the watch closed. “It is a disgusting notion, Dr. Turner. Not to mention an illegal one. Not something the citizens of this city are likely to support, whatever you may think. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
    Over fifty years since the Doctors Mob Riot, when huge crowds took to the streets to protest grave robbing, but there was still a law saying only the bodies of hanged criminals could be dissected after death. Yet according to Manon, Sam Devrey had spent years in China. Surely that would broaden a man’s mind. Instead his cousin sounded like every other man of business who could see no further than the bottom line of a ledger. “Sir, I promise you, in Europe men are already—”
    “I must leave, Dr. Turner. And so must you.” Sam stood up. So did Nick. They shared the same rangy height, Sam noted, but his hair was Devrey-black and his cousin’s Turner-red. And no gray at Turner’s temples, though his own were heavily salted. He was thirty-six, so Turner was—what? Sam wasn’t sure, but some years younger certainly. “Good day to you, sir.” Sam stood up and extended his hand.
    Nick took it in a firm grip. “A final word if I may, Cousin.” He didn’t wait for permission. “If you’re correct and the council won’t appropriate the money, why don’t you?”
    “Me?”
    “Yes. Well, not you personally. Devrey’s. An act of philanthropy tomark your move to splendid new premises and celebrate the importance to New York’s prosperity of this venerable company. It’s an opportunity to associate Devrey Shipping with mankind’s salvation.” In the matter of flowery speech, that was the best he could do.
    “You don’t think small, Dr. Nicholas Turner. I’ll grant you that.” Sam started for the door. “But I think we’d best leave salvation to the preachers.”
    “No, we must not. At least not the kind of salvation that matters this side of the grave.”
    Sam’s hat hung on a peg on the wall. In the new building his private room boasted a coat cupboard, and a fancy new window glazed with a single sheet of glass rather than a dozen small panes. He’d have a clear view as far as the harbor. He’d instructed them to build in a set of shelves as well, for the collection of jade ornaments he’d brought back from Canton and prized more highly than any other souvenirs, except, of course Mei-hua. “I’m afraid you overestimate my means, sir.”
    “A thousand a year, then. We could have a smaller facility and put three young men to work at—”
    “Desecrating the bodies of the dead. We’ve already covered that, Dr….” There was a slight hesitation, then, “Cousin Nicholas.” Sam paused with his hand on the door. “Tell me one thing, if this is such an excellent plan, why hasn’t it been put into effect at New York Hospital?”
    “Because, as you point out, doing anatomies remains illegal. Besides, the bodies of the patients who die at New York Hospital are almost always claimed by relatives.”
    “While those who die in Bellevue have no relatives, at least none with sufficient money to give them a proper burial, and so are unclaimed.”
    “That is the usual circumstance,” Nick admitted.
    “However wretched their lives may be, Cousin Nicholas, does it not strike you as inhuman to deny them even the peace of a pauper’s grave?”
    Jesus God Almighty. The feral pigs roaming New York’s streets lived better than the sick in the Almshouse Hospital, but Sam Devrey was worrying about