Free Doktor Glass by Thomas Brennan Page B

life.”
    Again, Langton wondered why she had come here. He had the sense of things unsaid, of facts or suspicions behind her words. Perhaps she didn’t register their existence herself. “Do you believe in the Jar Boys?”
    She thought for a moment. “I understand why people believe in them. I understand the reason for their existence.”
    That didn’t really answer Langton’s question, but he did not want to press the subject. “Could you tell me some of the other areas that interest the Professor?”
    Sister Wright twisted her hands in her lap. “I’m not sure that I should.”
    Langton waited.
    Sister Wright glanced through the window to Victoria Street and then nodded. “He has a great interest in Egyptology, in the Orient and its philosophies: Buddhism, particularly Zen; Hinduism from India; the works of Confucius and Sun Yat-sen. Acupuncture, the stimulation of nerve points throughout the body, and the Chinese belief in
qi
, or the force within us.”
    “That is quite a list.”
    “It is only the tip of his knowledge,” she said. “He is a true polymath.”
    Langton could see her respect for the Professor in her eyes, and that made him pull back from the questions he longed to ask. Instead, carefully, he said, “Have his interests ever led him astray?”
    “Astray?”
    “Has he ever…Have his interests ever affected his patients?”
    “Never.” The word came hard and sharp. “His patients have never suffered.”
    Langton saw he would get no further than that at this stage. As Sister Wright gathered her gloves and purse to leave, Langton said, “Thank you for telling me all this. I appreciate your honesty.”
    “I wanted you to know.”
    “May I ask one final thing, Sister? It isn’t about the Professor.”
    She tilted her head to one side and waited.
    Langton said, “When we saw the man’s body, you seemed to recognize the tattoos.”
    Sister Wright stood up and set her gloves and purse down on the chair. With efficient movements, and before Langton could stop her, she unbuttoned the jet buttons at the side of her dress. The grey wool fabric fell open.
    Langton raised his hand as if to stop her. His pulse raced in histhroat. The sight of her skin silenced him. For, between the edge of the white lace bodice that covered her breasts and the slender curve of her throat lay a network of fine scars; the wan office light turned them silver.
    “I joined the nursing corps at sixteen,” Sister Wright said as she closed her dress. “We treated the injured Boers alongside our own brave troops, showing no aversion or favoritism. That didn’t stop the Boers and their Irregulars that overran our field hospitals from…from…”
    She turned away and rebuttoned her dress.
    “I’m sorry,” Langton said. “I’m so sorry.”
    Sister Wright turned and gave a tight smile. “We survive, Inspector. We go on with our lives, for we have no choice.”
    Sarah’s image filled Langton’s mind.
    “Inspector? I must go.” Sister Wright stood at the door and waited for Langton to open it. She held out her hand. “I hope I haven’t made a mistake today.”
    “I promise that you haven’t.”
    With one final smile, she left him. Langton saw Harry giving him a strange look. He closed the frosted door and rested his back against it.
    His estimation of the sister had increased. Whatever reason she might have had for visiting him, whether conscious or unconscious, was unimportant, in a sense. She had revealed to him a major part of her life, given him a glimpse of the horrors that had shaped her. He doubted she would do that for just anybody. Why for him?
    At least she seemed to have survived the experience, not just physically but mentally. Some of the survivors who returned home had found no solace from the war, no dwindling of their memories. Unable to resume their interrupted lives, they drank, took opium, fell into crime or through the fabric of society to the depths below.
    Yes, Sister Wright was strong. Of