They both glanced at the clock. It was nearing midnight.
“Me? Oh . . . my studies keep me up.”
An awkward silence followed until, noticing the pain he was in, she asked, “Are you all right? I heard about the horrible fire in which your . . . the lady you were seeing . . . that is Father told me how difficult it’s been for you.” “Your father bailed me out of jail. I mean to make good on 248
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it.” He pulled forth a twenty-five-dollar note from the Harris Bank and laid it on the table.
“You must speak to Father about your headaches.”
“Aye . . . it’s why I came—and to repay the note. But it’s rather late for—”
“Nonsense, you must take care of it right away.”
“But the lateness of the hour.”
“I assure you, for his fee, my father won’t turn you away.”
“Then the good doctor, he has not—”
“Retired? Wish it were so. I’m afraid, he doesn’t take care of himself half so well as his patients.”
“He works hard.”
Dr. Tewes came through the front door and into the parlor, saying, “So, you’ve finally come, Inspector, for a complete examination? At such an hour?”
“I do my best work after hours, when others sleep.” He stood and filled Tewes’s hand with the note to repay the bail-out.
“What is this?” Tewes was in the midst of asking when Ransom suddenly became dizzy and wobbly on his legs, almost falling before they got him back onto the settee where he’d been moments before.
Even dazed, Ransom saw that Gabby and Jane showed genuine concern, the caring written in their eyes. Tewes was barking orders and young Gabby, flitting about after cold water and a compress. So unconditional was this response to his near fall.
“It’s his head, Father. He’s been favoring it since he arrived.”
“Delayed reaction. You must take my cure, now, Alastair,” Tewes said. “Can you walk to my clinic? In the chair, under the strap, so your head’ll be stabilized as I conduct my examination.”
“I am quite all right. No need for a fuss. Don’t wanna be a bother or a—”
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“Burden? Inspector, trust me. You’ve long ago surpassed—”
“Why don’t you
“Tell me what?”
Jane gave her daughter a withering look, warning her not to say another word, but Gabby replied, “To get his blooming arse in that chair! Now!”
The two women each took an arm and helped him from parlor to clinic, guiding him into the doctor’s waiting chair.
From a haze, he smelled multiple chemicals and concoctions, saw shelves lined with books, and countertops strewn with gleaming instruments and probes.
Alastair felt instantly ill at ease even though the chair he found himself in was as comfortable as sin; in fact, doing as told, he closed his eyes and felt he could easily fall asleep here, finding himself awakened in the morning to the chime of Gabby’s voice calling him to consciousness, asking if he wanted one or two eggs with his bacon.
To further relax him, Dr. Tewes’s magical fingers began massaging Ransom’s neck, moving on to ridges behind each ear. Tewes’s thumb at each point, rhythmically rotated. Ransom realized this motion could put a man down fast. He thought what a tool of control is this. He’d never before been induced to such peace, but a sliver of suspicion kept fighting his desire to relax as Tewes repeatedly suggested—as the small, firm hands soothingly continued, careful to apply no pressure to the still throbbing sore point left by Muldoon’s blackjack.
Tewes’s hands pressed on, precision in each fingertip. Then all thumb action behind the ears ended for the full cranial massage, the talented fingers working to and from each temple, further easing his tension. He wanted to tell the doctor how wonderful this felt, but he felt perturbed, too, ashamed to be feeling so good at the touch of another man. In fact, the idea began to invade his mind—an inky stain fighting Tewes’s mantra: “Heal thyself, Alastair . . . heal, heal, heal . . .”
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“Tewes, I’m . . . I mean to say . . . I’ve never . . .”
“Quiet . . . heal, heal . . .”
“I find Jane intriguing. Being a man, I . . .”
She did not tell him to shut up.
“. . . that is to say, I like women as you know . . .” Jane realized what he was so clumsily trying to tell Mister Tewes.
“. . . and have naught interest in men in that regard . . . if you take my mean—”
“My God, Ransom. Each time I think there’s hope for you, a bit of progress.”
“I only want it clear that—”
“Please shut the noise out, especially the sound of your own voice! Not another word.”
Ransom took the doctor’s advice.
“Heal . . . heal thyself . . . heal . . .”
From somewhere nearby, Gabby’s sweet laughter erupted.
Tewes shushed her.
“Heal . . . heal . . . heal . . .”
Then Tewes’s fingers lightly hovered over the huge lump that still throbbed and caused so much pain. He sensed the doctor, using those large magnets he’d seen on the tray near the chair, now performed his patented magnetism treatment.
While Ransom’s eyes remained closed, Tewes softly whispered in his ear, “The body is filled with an electromagnetic energy that has the power to heal. I want you to picture this powerful energy inside your body, your head, your will, Alastair. You have it within to will this pain away . . . along with
“Mother,” said Gabby, looking deeply into his features where he’d slid low in the chair.
“Don’t interrupt, Gabby.”
“But, Mother, he’s asleep, otherwise I’d not call you mother.”
“Asleep?” She came around and stared. “He must’ve needed it badly. Tough guy. Doesn’t listen to his own body CITY FOR RANSOM
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screaming for mercy. Poor man carries a great deal on those big shoulders.”
“But why’d he come here to break down?”
“Had to stove in somewhere, so why not my chair?”
“But what’s to happen tomorrow when he wakes? Are you going to sleep in that getup?”
“Let tomorrow take care of itself. For now, we leave Ransom to whatever dreams he may find.”
“Fine . . . but are you going to stick to your resolution?”
“In time, yes.”
“Please, Mother, he’s falling for you!”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“He came here to see Jane again, not Tewes.”
“You think so?”
“It’s time he knows Dr. Jane Francis. Time he knows who he’s got eyes for.”
