I stared into the looking glass for a long moment, then nodded at my own reflection, trying to convince myself that I was able to face the world of Dr Anton Kronberg yet again.
***
It took me a considerable time to get dressed, walk down onto the street, and find a cab to the medical school. My forehead itched with cold perspiration. Taking my seat in the cab, I condemned my weakness. The timing was more than inconvenient.
My two assistants were busy preparing a fresh batch of media when I entered the laboratory. Everyone adhered to etiquette — I bade them a good morning and they politely enquired about my health.
However, the surveillance had fortified — the two men kept within a three yards’ radius from me. While I struck a match on the table and lit the Bunsen burner, I wondered how much time I had left.
Using a magnifying glass, I inspected the colonies that grew on the solid media. The Petri dishes clinked quietly while I pushed them about, opening and closing their lids. Behind me, my two assistants were silently observing my doings, boring their stares into my neck, causing it to tingle constantly.
Bacterial colonies in a vast diversity of shapes and colours had formed under both oxic and anoxic conditions. We would need a lot of mice to test these on. I turned to my two companions.
‘Mr Strowbridge, we will need at least one hundred mice to test our new germs. I need you to procure them immediately. And supplement the cages and the fodder, please.’ My voice was thin, supposed to reflect my weakened state.
Strowbridge nodded and left, while Bonsell stayed behind and moved a bit closer yet, compensating for the lack of his colleague and back-up. Several minutes after Strowbridge had gone, faint footfall sounded in the hallway. I hoped it would be Bowden. Meanwhile, Bonsell had squeezed himself a little too close.
‘Mr Bonsell, are you resistant to cholera?’ I held a slender iron lance into the Bunsen burner’s flame, just above the hottest blue. ‘I know you are supposed to keep an eye on me,’ I said softly, pushing the glowing lance into the solid media. The hiss made him jump. ‘But you are overdoing it. I might stumble over you and accidentally infect you with cholera.’
‘My dear sir!’ he cried in disbelief, taking a step back, possibly afraid I would drive the smouldering metal into his hands if he didn’t keep them off the workbench.
‘I mean it, Bonsell. The way you handled that woman was most unprofessional,’ I barked, using up my feeble breath. ‘You left a trail of highly contagious faeces that contaminated my entire laboratory. Or how do you think I contracted cholera? And worst of all, you risked the contamination of our valuable pure cultures. Your carelessness threw back our work for more than a week!’
I had risen to my feet, my face now very close to Bonsell’s. ‘Should you get too close to me while I work with my cultures, or should you so much as think of touching my work, I will break your arm!’
‘Well, well, Dr Kronberg,’ interrupted Bowden with a snarl, entering the room with long strides. He had overheard us and I was satisfied. This charade had been played solely for him.
‘Mr Bonsell, give us a moment of privacy,’ said Bowden and positioned himself to my right, his arms cross over his chest, eyes black like the fetid mud on the Thames’s bank. I sat back down and let him tower over me.
‘Dr Kronberg, how far did you advance with the cholera germs?’
‘I have a number isolates that need to be characterised and identified. Strowbridge is procuring mice this very moment. I’ll use them to test the cultures, and in no more than five days, we should be able to tell which ones are the cholera germs. After that, I can grow the amount you require.’
Bowden merely inclined his head, cleared his throat, and took a step closer. I forced myself to meet his gaze and remain steady. It took some effort; his eyes made me feel as though I was drowning in tar.
‘How come you contracted cholera? Shouldn’t you, of all, know how to avoid it?’
‘One would expect so, yes. It was inevitable, though.’
‘I don’t understand,’ responded Bowden to my cryptic statement.
‘My two assistants brought in a dying woman and smeared a trail of her contagious faeces from the entrance all through my laboratory. That left me with two choices — fume the room with concentrated acid and sacrifice my tetanus cultures, or scrub the floor. Naturally, I chose the latter.’
‘You could have told them,’ he jerked his head towards the door, ‘to do it for you.’
‘Excuse me, Dr Bowden, but had they not proved unreliable?’
Bowden’s eyes narrowed and he contemplated for a moment. Then he leaned forward and rasped, ‘What, in your opinion, should we be doing with the isolated cholera germs?’
I stared into the flame. In contrast to all other fires, the Bunsen burner flame was perfectly steady. My answer would most likely decide whether I would survive this day or not.
I swallowed the possibility of a very short life span and answered calmly, ‘I can only guess, Dr Bowden. But the fact that you abducted a cholera victim must raise the impression that you are a man without scruples.’
The blood vessels in his throat hectically tapped underneath the skin, his blood rose to his cheeks, and his mouth compressed to a thin line.
I smiled at him. ‘I admire that.’
Slowly, the colour drained from his face and I added, ‘You are well aware that my neck is already in your noose. I euthanised the woman. That might be interpreted as manslaughter, but more likely as murder. How often do I have to prove my trustworthiness, Dr Bowden?’ I tried to keep most of the rage out of my voice. Just a little remained audible, to let him taste my impatience.
‘I repeat my question: What are we doing, then?’ he hissed, and suddenly I saw the door of opportunity open wide.
‘Test both germs and vaccines on human subjects,’ I replied.
Bowden’s expression relaxed, but there was still a trace of doubt in his eyes. I took a deep plunge into the black and let my imagination go rampant. ‘Considering that the Kaiser might be planning a war, I would try to develop highly aggressive strains of pathogenic bacteria to use them in systematic germ warfare.’
It was an insane idea, a wild guess, something to press the point that I had absolutely no scruples.
It had the desired effect — Bowden was thunderstruck.