“The Kusevitskys mentioned a dossier… sent to an investigator at the security office?”
“Yes, by a member of parliament. It contained letters from the old baron, an unfavorable statement by a witness-an aspirant named Edlinger-and the draft of a scurrilous article.”
“Extraordinary.”
“If it had not been for the intervention of a friend, I might have been made the subject of an official inquiry.”
“And charged with religious agitation, no doubt.”
“That might have been the outcome, yes.”
“A very worrying development,” said Priel, tutting. “Very worrying. I understand that you are to appear before a hospital committee soon.”
“That is correct.”
“And a final decision will be made about your future.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, the chancellor is not very optimistic about my prospects.”
“The chancellor. Would that be Professor Gandler?”
“Yes.”
Priel hummed. When the sonic possibilities of the note had been thoroughly explored, he said, “Gandler will be more concerned about pleasing patrons than about your welfare. He has friends in the town hall, you know.”
Liebermann sighed. “I didn’t realize.”
“And if you are dismissed, what are your plans?”
“It will be difficult for me to get another position here in Vienna.”
“There are other hospitals-private establishments-that would not be unsympathetic; the hospital where Gabriel Kusevitsky works, for example.”
“I do not know the medical director,” said Liebermann meekly. He had not troubled to socialize advantageously, and now he regretted it. His only professorial acquaintance was Freud, a man who possessed little influence outside his own small circle of devotees.
“Introductions could be made,” said Priel, disregarding Liebermann’s reservation. “However, if your appointment at another institution was arranged, it would solve your problem, but it wouldn’t solve the problem.” Priel altered the position of his head, and his pince-nez flashed as they caught the light. “If you are dismissed, and the decision of the committee is not challenged, it will set something of a precedent-don’t you see? — a dangerous precedent in these difficult times.”
“Challenged?” Liebermann repeated. Not quite sure what the professor was proposing.
“This scandalous affair was never really about your ability to practice medicine. My dear fellow, there is more at stake here than your position.” The professor was beginning to sound a little like the chancellor. “We have a collective responsibility…”
The rest of Priel’s sentence was drowned out by a frantic banging on Liebermann’s door.
“Yes, please come in.” Liebermann called out over the noise.
A nurse appeared. Her face was flushed and she had clearly been running.
“Herr Doctor-Herr Poppmeier…”
“Yes? What about him?”
“You must come-immediately.”
“Why?” Liebermann’s first thought was that his patient might have-quite unexpectedly-attempted suicide. “What’s happened?”
“Something unbelievable.” The nurse glanced warily at Professor Priel and then back at Liebermann. “Please hurry.”
“Has he tried to harm himself?”
“No. He’s gone…” She raised her hands and stamped her feet. “He’s gone into labor!”
“But that’s ridiculous!”
“Forgive me, Herr Doctor, but I must insist that you come this instant. Herr Poppmeier is having a baby. He really is.”
Liebermann stood up.
“I am sorry, Herr Professor, but I must attend to one of my patients who-if I have understood Nurse Stangassinger correctly-is about to transcend the biological limitations of his sex.”
The professor smiled, wrinkles fanning out from his eyes.
“I am happy to wait. Not only am I anxious to finish our conversation, but I am now equally anxious to hear the outcome of Herr Poppmeier’s miraculous confinement.”
72
Liebermann followed nurse Stangassinger down the corridor and up a broad flight of stairs. They came to a set of rooms set a short distance apart from one of the psychiatric wards. Herr Poppmeier’s screams could be heard long before their arrival.
Nurse Stangassinger opened one of the doors, and Liebermann entered. The traveling salesman was lying on a cart. He was wearing a plain white hospital gown, which rose up to accommodate his swollen belly. The roundness and size of the swelling presented a fair imitation of pregnancy. Poppmeier, evidently in considerable pain, was clutching his distended abdomen. He was flanked by two nurses, one of whom was cooling his brow with a damp sponge.
“Dear God,” he cried. “What is happening to me?”
His eyes were bulging, and he appeared to be semi-delirious.
“How long has he been like this?” Liebermann asked.
The nurse with the sponge said, “We don’t know. He was in the toilet cubicle most of this afternoon.”
“Herr Poppmeier,” said Liebermann, “when did your stomach start to enlarge?”
“Oh, the pain,” said Poppmeier, writhing. “Please do something, Herr Doctor. Operate. Do anything you can. Get it out of me, for mercy’s sake!”
Liebermann grabbed Poppmeier’s jaw and held his head still.
“Look at me, Herr Poppmeier. When did your stomach start to swell? It is important. Try to remember.”
“I had some pains… earlier this afternoon. I thought it might have been something I’d eaten. I shut myself in the water closet, but to no avail. Evacuations did not solve the problem. In fact, the pain got worse.” Poppmeier gritted his teeth. “My stomach began to swell and it started to get hard.”
Liebermann raised the gown and laid his hand on the lower region of Poppmeier’s abdomen. The skin was tight and translucent. He felt movement-not as sharp as a fetal kick, but movement nevertheless. His patient rolled over, groaning.
“Please keep still,” Liebermann growled, hauling Herr Poppmeier back into his original position. He covered the man’s navel with the palm of his hand and applied some pressure. “Does that hurt?”
“Yes, yes. It’s very tender.”
“And here?”
“Yes. There too.”
“And what about here?”
“Argh!” Poppmeier cried out. “For heaven’s sake, man.”
“I’m sorry,” said Liebermann. Then he found a stethoscope on a nearby cart and rested the diaphragm on Poppmeier’s stomach.
Gurgling sounds: a swashing and murmuring-a strange, primordial effervescence.
Liebermann whispered something to Nurse Stangassinger, who subsequently left the room.
“Well?” said Poppmeier. “Is it trying to get out?”
Liebermann shook his head. “Herr Poppmeier, you are not carrying a baby.”
“How can you say that? Look at me!”
“You have swallowed a large amount of air and are suffering from severe abdominal distension.”
