however, was notable on account of its size – being much bigger than the others he had seen to date. Gruner moved to the table and caressed the polished surface of a large teak box. He released two brass hasps and gently lifted the lid, the underside of which was lined with red leather that was embossed in gold lettering:
Inside the box was an arrangement of knobs, rollers and dials. Gruner removed two bright metal rods with wooden handles, which were attached to the assembly by long leads.
'For those interested in the technical specifications of this instrument, it is of standard design. It is powered by six-volt dry batteries which are both safe and easy to maintain. The output voltage can be varied by adjusting a simple metal cylinder that slides over the core of the induction coil.'
Gruner flicked a switch and the room immediately filled with a loud buzzing. He then invited one of the assembly to assist. A middle-aged man rose from his seat.
'Thank you, Herr Doctor,' said Gruner. 'If you would position yourself on the other side of the patient?' The man walked across the bare wooden floor boards, stepped up on to the stage, and stood to attention beside the diplomat's wife.
'Signora Locatelli,' continued Gruner. 'Could I prevail upon you to raise your gown?'
The woman gathered up the material of the skirt of her gown in her hands and, as she did so, the hem began to lift, revealing her slim ankles and calves.
'Signora,' continued Gruner, 'it will be necessary to raise your gown to a level above the knee.' The woman blushed and, gripping more material in her hands, exposed her legs completely. Liebermann turned away and looked disdainfully at his colleagues, most of whom had leaned forward. Sensing his friend's movement, Kanner delivered another elbow jab and nodded towards the demonstration.
Gruner stepped forward and passed the metal rods over Signora Locatelli's legs.
'Do you feel anything?'
'No.'
'Nothing – not even a tickling sensation?'
'No.'
Gruner addressed the audience. 'I will now increase the charge.'
He took both rods in one hand and reached into the box, adjusting the dials and cylinders. The pitch of the buzzing ascended an octave. Gruner then returned to his patient and passed the metal rods over her legs a second time. She did not move, and her gaze remained fixed on some elevated point at the back of the room. Liebermann saw that she was staring at the bust of some long-forgotten medical luminary.
'Signora,' said Gruner. 'You must feel something now. Perhaps pins and needles?'
Without moving her head to make eye contact, the diplomat's wife simply continued staring.
'Signora?' Gruner said tetchily. 'What do you feel?'
'I feel . . .' The woman paused before saying: 'That there is no hope.'
Gruner shook his head: 'Signora, please refrain from obtuse answers. Do you feel any sensations in your legs?'
Still without moving, she said softly: 'No. I feel nothing . . .' And then, after another pause, she added: 'In my legs.'
'Very well,' said Gruner. He passed both rods to his assistant and then plunged his hands into the electrical apparatus. The buzzing became louder: a horrible glissando ascending to a pitch that made Liebermann's ears ache. Gruner then took back the rods.
It was clear that Gruner had increased the charge considerably and the room was tense with expectation. Even Liebermann found himself attending more closely, drawn into the drama by the woman's declaration that there was no hope – a statement that he felt resonated with many meanings.
Gruner extended his arms and then, after the briefest of hesitations, prodded Signora Locatelli's legs. She opened her mouth and let out a cry, not of pain but of anguish. It was not particularly loud, yet it was deeply disturbing to Liebermann. It reminded him of an operatic sob, full of despair and melancholy. At the same time, the woman's right leg moved forward.
'Good,' said Gruner. He applied the rods again.
The woman's legs began to shake.
'Stand up, Signora.'
The shaking became more pronounced.
'Stand up!' Gruner commanded.
Grimacing, Signora Locatelli pressed her hands down hard on the arms of the wooden throne and a moment later she was standing up, her whole body trembling. Gruner stepped back so that every member of the audience could see and appreciate his achievement. He held the metal rods up like trophies.
'Observe, gentlemen. See how the subject stands. If hysteria were a psychological illness, then what you are now witnessing would not be possible.'
To Liebermann, Signora Locatelli's balance looked precarious. Her arms were extended outwards, a little like an acrobat standing on a high wire. She did not appear to be pleased or surprised by her accomplishment. Instead, her features seemed to be contorted by fear and confusion.
'Signora,' said Gruner. 'Perhaps you would care to venture a step or two?'
Her upper body swayed and wobbled above legs that refused to respond. It was as though the patient's feet were fixed to the floor.
'Come now, Signora. Just one step.'
Using all her strength, the diplomat's wife cried out as she forced her left leg forward. But as she did so she finally lost her balance and fell. The assisting doctor caught Signora Locatelli under the arms and lowered her gently onto the chair, where she lay back, breathing heavily, her forehead beaded with sweat.
Gruner placed the rods in the box and switched off his machine. The buzzing stopped, creating a strangely solid silence that was broken only by Signora Locatelli's loud exhalations.
A smattering of applause, which then became more vigorous as others joined in, passed through the audience. The man sitting in front of Liebermann suddenly stood up and cried out: 'Bravo, Herr Professor.'
Liebermann turned towards Kanner, raising his voice above the applause.
'I'm never going to sit through one of these absurd, barbaric and humiliating demonstrations again.'
Kanner leaned towards his friend and spoke directly into his ear.
'You'll be dismissed.'
'So be it.'
Kanner shrugged: 'Well, don't say I didn't warn you.'
4
THE CENTRAL PATHWAY
was flanked by eight muses and ascended to the lower cascade: a giant stone shell, supported by a team of tritons and sea nymphs. The balustrades lining the steps on either side of the fountain were populated by chubby putti, and beyond was the first of the Belvedere's celebrated sphinxes.
'Did the storm frighten you?'
'Max, I'm not a child. Of course it didn't frighten me.'
The ground was still wet, and Liebermann had to guide Clara through an archipelago of puddles. He couldn't help noticing her boots – so small and elegant.
'Although Rachel made a fuss.'
'Did she?'
'Oh yes, she knocked on my door and insisted that I let her in.'
'And did you?'
'Of course I did. I told her that there was nothing to be frightened of – and that the storm would pass. But it didn't seem to do much good. She simply crawled into my bed and pulled the covers over her head.'
'How long did she stay like that?'
'Until it stopped.'
Once they had negotiated the puddles, Liebermann offered Clara his arm, which she took without hesitation.
