Mortal Mischief

Rheinhardt made some notes. As his pen scratched across the paper he said: 'I owe you an apology, Fraulein von Rath. I am sorry I did not respond more promptly to your letter. Unfortunately, I have been rather busy.'

'I feared that you would dismiss my discovery,' said Cosima.

'No, not at all,' said Rheinhardt. 'In actual fact, I was in the process of planning a similar investigation myself.'

Cosima opened her fan again and fluttered it close to her neck.

'A seance?'

Rheinhardt placed his pen on the table.

'Fraulein, have you heard of Madame de Rougemont?'

'No,' said Cosima, her voice dropping in pitch. 'I don't think I have.'

'She is a French medium employed by the Surete in Paris. She is reputed to possess an extraordinary gift. It is my understanding that she has solved numerous crimes and mysteries.'

'Really?' Cosima's eyes glinted with interest. 'I've never heard of her.'

'Few people know of Madame de Rougemont's existence,' said Rheinhardt. 'The Surete guard her jealously.'

'Fascinating,' said Cosima, shifting her bulk forward.

'I had already telegraphed Inspector Laurent in Paris, requesting Madame de Rougemont's assistance, when I received your letter.'

'And?'

'The request was granted.'

'She has agreed to visit Vienna?'

'Madame de Rougemont will be here on Wednesday.'

Cosima seemed agitated with excitement, her wide mealy face becoming speckled with little red blotches.

'It may be that Madame de Rougemont will confirm your findings,' continued Rheinhardt. 'She may also help us to solve the mystery of Herr Uberhorst's tragic demise. To this end, she has proposed that we arrange another seance – to be attended by all the members of Fraulein Lowenstein's circle. I was wondering, would you be willing to assist with the arrangements?'

'Of course . . .' Cosima looked flushed and breathless.

Rheinhardt scribbled something in his notebook.

'Madame de Rougemont will be staying at this address,' he tore the sheet out. 'It's near the Peterskirche. I would like everyone to be there at eight o'clock on Thursday.'

Cosima took the sheet of paper. Her hand was shaking with excitement.

'I will send invitations immediately – to everyone – except for Herr Braun, of course.'

'No, include Herr Braun too.'

'You've found him?'

'He returned to Vienna last week. He had been called to the bedside of an ailing aunt in Salzburg – apparently.'

Rheinhardt's delivery was as dry as tinder.

52

'WHEN SIGNOR Locatelli was taken to the mortuary he was horrified to discover that his wife's legs had been badly burned. This of course confirmed what she had already written – that Professor Gruner had been subjecting her to an over-zealous regimen of electrotherapy. Locatelli spoke to some of his friends in the parliament building and a few days later a government inspector arrived. There's obviously some sort of inquiry under way – we're all going to be interviewed.'

'And what of Gruner?' asked Professor Freud.

'I don't know,' said Liebermann. 'I haven't seen him since he threatened to dismiss me.'

'It would seem, then, that you have been favoured by the god of healing.' Freud tapped the head of a small bronze figure seated on a primitive square throne. 'You will be able to continue your work with the English governess after all.'

'Well, for a few more weeks, perhaps. Until Gruner returns.'

'If he returns,' said Freud, exhaling a voluminous cloud of cigar smoke and smiling wickedly.

'I'm sure Professor Gruner has some very influential friends too,' said Liebermann.

Freud shrugged his shoulders and continued to toy with the bronze figure on his desk. It was a new acquisition and, typically, he seemed unable to leave it alone.

'Imhotep,' said Freud, suddenly aware of Liebermann observing him.

Liebermann's blank expression invited an explanation.

'He was identified during classical times with the Greek god of healing – Asklepios.'

'Ahh,' said Liebermann.

Freud pushed the bronze figure back into its space among the ancient statuettes and suddenly picked up the thread of their original conversation.

'The case you describe is extremely interesting, Max. But I have some reservations concerning your technique and interpretation.'

Liebermann raised his eyebrows.

'As you know,' continued Freud, 'I have abandoned hypnosis in favour of free association – encouraging the patient to say whatever comes to mind, without censorship. The analyst listens, and learns not only from what is said but also from its character and form: the silences, the hesitations, the changes of volume and direction. Hypnosis is fraught with problems . . . for example, not all patients are susceptible to the trance state. I remember, when I visited Nancy a few years ago, that Liebeault was perfectly happy to acknowledge this. Bernheim had greater success but, from my experience, true somnambulism is achievable in far fewer cases than Bernheim's reports would lead us to expect. Be that as it may, in my estimation the most significant problem associated with hypnosis is that one can never be entirely sure whether or not the phenomena under observation are genuine. The hypnotic trance renders the patient uniquely suggestible . . . I think it no coincidence that conditions such as multiple personality emerge more frequently in those clinics where hypnosis is practised.' Liebermann's disappointment was clearly evident, and the older man was moved to soften the blow of his critique with a modest qualification. 'Naturally, I cannot comment on the clinical authenticity of your governess – but it is something to bear in mind, Max.'

'Of course,' said Liebermann respectfully. Then, steeling himself for more disapprobation, he added tentatively, 'And you also had some reservations about my . . . interpretation?'

Freud stubbed out his cigar and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and linking his hands.

'You assume that your governess's symptoms are the direct result of traumata – the ostensibly offensive sexual overtures of her relative. But what if . . . what if your governess is ambivalent? What if she is attracted, albeit unconsciously, to this man? Perhaps her symptoms are not a defence as such against him, but a defence against her own powerful desire to reciprocate.'

Liebermann's brow was creased by a pronounced frown line.

'Ahh . . .' said Freud. 'I can see that you do not find such an explanation plausible – but you should not underestimate the significance of erotic life in the etiology of hysterical symptoms. I had a similar case a few years ago – an eighteen-year-old woman with tussis nervosa and aphonia. She too had been importuned by a family friend; however, it transpired that her symptoms were the result not of his transgressions but rather of the repression of her own libido. The entire case history is somewhat complicated and the conclusion unsatisfactory. But I wrote up my notes last year and the article was accepted for publication in the Monatsschrift fur Psychiatrie und Neurologie by one of the editors – a chap called Ziehen.'

'Well, I look forward to reading it,' said Liebermann. Nonetheless, he was a little troubled by the professor's customary insistence on the importance of repressed sexual desire. Freud had a reputation for being dogmatic in this respect, and Liebermann could not believe that Amelia Lydgate harboured a secret wish to be intimate with a