Von Blon hesitated, and his eyes were focused intently like those of a man who is thinking rapidly.
“I know Schwarzwald, of course,” he answered. “But I’m ignorant of the particular work you mention. …” Slowly a look of amazement dawned on his face. “Good heavens! You’re not trying to connect the subjects of these books with Mrs. Greene’s condition, are you?”
“If I were to tell you that both of these books are in the Greene mansion, what would you say?”
“I’d say their presence is no more relevant to the situation there than would be a copy of Die Leiden des jungen Werther or Heine’s Romanzero.”
“I’m sorry I can’t agree with you,” returned Vance politely. “They are certainly relevant to our investigation, and I had hoped you might be able to explain the connection.”
Von Blon appeared to ponder the matter, his face the picture of perplexity.
“I wish I could help you,” he said, after several moments. Then he glanced up quickly: a new light had come into his eyes. “Permit me to suggest, sir, that you are laboring under a misapprehension as to the correct scientific connotation of the words in the titles of these two books. I have had occasion to do considerable reading along psychoanalytic lines; and both Freud and Jung use the terms ‘Somnambulismus’ and ‘Dämmerzustände’ in an entirely different sense from our common use of the terms ‘somnambulism’ and ‘twilight sleep.’ ‘Somnambulismus,’ in the terminology of psychopathology and abnormal psychology, is employed in connection with ambivalence and dual personality: it designates the actions of the submerged, or subconscious, self in cases of aphasia, amnesia, and the like. It does not refer to one’s walking in one’s sleep. For instance, in psychic hysteria where one loses one’s memory and adopts a new personality, the subject is called a ‘Somnambule.’ It is the same as what the newspapers commonly refer to as an ‘amnesia victim.’ ”
He rose and went to a bookcase. After a few moments’ search he took down several volumes.
“Here we have, for example, an old monograph by Freud and Breuer, written in 1893 and entitled Über den psychischen Mechanismus der hysterischen Phenomene. If you care to take the trouble to read it, you will see that it is an exposition of the application of the term ‘Somnambulismus’ to certain temporary neurotic derangements.—And here also is Freud’s Traumdeutung, published in 1894, in which this terminology is explained and amplified.—In addition to these, I have here Nervöse Angstzustände, by Stekel, who, though he leads one of the most important schisms in the Freudian school, uses the same nomenclature in referring to split personality.” He laid the three books on the table before Vance. “You may take them along if you like. They may throw some light on the quandary you are in.”
“You are inclined to believe, then, that both Schwarzwald and Brügelmann refer to waking psychic states rather than the more common type of somnambulism?”
“Yes, I am inclined to that belief. I know Schwarzwald was a former lecturer at the Psychopatisches Institut, in constant contact with Freud and his teachings. But, as I told you, I am not familiar with either of the books.”
“How would you account for the term ‘hysteria’ in both titles?”
“Its presence there is in no way contradictory. Aphasia, amnesia, aphonia—and often anosmia and apnoea—are symptoms of hysteria. And hysterical paralysis is quite common. There are many cases of paralytics who have been unable to move a muscle for years, as a result of sheer hysteria.”
“Ah, exactly!” Vance picked up his glass and drained it. “That brings me to a rather unusual request I desire to make.—As you know, the papers are waxing severe in their criticism of the police and the District Attorney’s office, and are accusing of negligence everyone connected with the investigation of the Greene case. Therefore Mr. Markham has decided that it might be advisable for him to possess a report of Mrs. Greene’s physical condition that would carry the very highest expert authority. And I was going to suggest that, merely as a matter of formal routine, we get such a report from, let us say, Doctor Felix Oppenheimer.”22
Von Blon did not speak for several minutes. He sat toying nervously with his glass, his eyes fixed with intent calculation on Vance.
“It might be well for you to have the report,” he acceded at last, “if only to dispel your own doubts on the subject.—No, I have no objection to the plan. I will be very glad to make the arrangements.”
Vance rose.
“That’s very generous of you, doctor. But I must urge you to attend to it without delay.”
“I understand perfectly. I will get in touch with Doctor Oppenheimer in the morning and explain to him the official character of the situation. I’m sure he will expedite matters.”
When we were again in the taxicab Markham gave voice to his perplexity.
“Von Blon strikes me as a particularly able and trustworthy man. And yet he has obviously gone woefully astray in regard to Mrs. Greene’s illness. I fear he’s in for a shock when he hears what Oppenheimer has to say after the examination.”
“Y’ know, Markham,” said Vance sombrely, “I’ll feel infinitely bucked if we succeed in getting that report from Oppenheimer.”
“Succeed! What do you mean?”
“ ’Pon my word, I don’t know what I mean. I only know that there’s a black terrible intrigue of some kind going on at the Greene house. And we don’t yet know who’s back of it. But it’s someone who’s watching us, who knows every move we make, and is thwarting us at every turn.”
XX
The Fourth Tragedy
(Thursday, December 2; forenoon)
The following day was one that will ever remain in my memory. Despite the fact that what happened had been foreseen by all of us, nevertheless when it actually came it left us as completely stunned as if
