TWENTY-FIVE

 

DAY 6. MONDAY, 9/25—6:15 P.M.

Alan led Noah to a bed in the children’s ward, about halfway down the corridor on the left. In it lay a girl of about ten, pretty and slight, with flaxen braids. At the side of the bed sat her mother, a larger, older, beaten-down version of the girl. The girl was sleeping, although Noah could tell instantly that she had been sedated.

“This is Magda Szysarska,” Alan said, indicating the mother. “And this is her daughter Wanda. They are from Canarsie. Mrs. Szysarska is a cleaning woman. She and Wanda live alone. Her husband ran off two years ago. She speaks almost no English. When we first saw Wanda, she was exhibiting all the symptoms of morphia deprivation. Her mother brought Wanda all the way here by carriage about seven hours ago.”

“Why did she do that?”

“You’ll see.” Alan motioned to a nurse who was tending a bed at the far end of the ward. “Rutya speaks Polish,” he explained to Noah as the woman hurried over. When she arrived, Alan said, “Tell Mrs. Szysarska to repeat what she told me before.”

The nurse said something unintelligible to the woman in the chair. Noah could not even get the gist; Polish seemed nothing like German. Mrs. Szysarska looked quizzically to Alan. She had just told the story. When the pediatrician indicated she should do so again, the woman let loose with a torrent.

The nurse nodded throughout the rendition. When the girl’s mother had finished, she gestured with a backhanded flick of her wrist for the nurse to relate the account to the doctors.

Rutya, the nurse, spoke in a thick Slavic accent. “Mrs. Szysarska say Wanda get sick ’bout four days ’go. Bad cough. Dry. ’Stead of free clinic, she go to local doctor. Molk. Dr. Molk very ’cessful. Big house. Two nurses. But Mrs. Szysarska know cough very dangerous and want to make sure Wanda get right treatment.

“Dr. Molk see Wanda and right away get very friendly. Mrs. Szysarska surprised. Dr. Molk usually charge two dollars for visit an’ poor people don’ come. But Dr. Molk say he know Mrs. Szysarska can’t pay. Then he say he got jus’ the thing to help Wanda.”

“What was it?” Noah asked. He looked to the Polish woman at the bedside. She was staring back at him and nodding, as if they were part of an unspoken conspiracy.

“Pill,” said the nurse. “Secret pill, doctor say. Very new. Mrs. Szysarska can’t tell no one. Dr. Molk say he come by in two days to check on Wanda. Mrs. Szysarska can’ believe. No doctor in America ever come to her house before.”

“And did he?”

“Ja. Wanda had got better by then. Cough stopped. But after doctor examine her, he’s not happy ’bout something. Asks how many pills Wanda took. Mrs. Szysarska says she got to give more pills ’cause they stop working sooner. Dr. Molk get upset and tell Mrs. Szysarska to give back rest of pills, ’cause they won’t work no more.”

Tilson, in Newark, had demanded the pills back only after the poor Ryan girl had died.

“After Dr. Molk leave, Wanda get sicker. But different. Stomach this time. Diarrhea, cramp, heavy perspiration. So Mrs. Szysarska bring Wanda here.”

“Why here?” Noah asked again. “Why not a hospital nearer her home?”

“Mrs. Szysarska don’t want to go anywhere that Dr. Molk might come. She say Dr. Molk turning Wanda into dope fiend.”

“How would she know that?”

Magda Szysarska looked up at Noah. “In . . . Poland . . . my . . . father . . . doctor.”

“When Wanda arrived here,” Alan said, “her symptoms were as acute as you described in the Anschutz boy. And, Noah, if it will help set your mind at rest, I also administered laudanum to deal with the immediate problem. Now that I know with what I am dealing, I intend to wean Wanda off her craving slowly.”

Noah turned to the nurse. “What color were these pills?”

Rutya wrinkled her forehead. For a moment, she thought she had misunderstood the question. Then she turned to Magda Szysarska and uttered a short phrase. Mrs. Szysarska replied with a one-word answer.

“Green,” the nurse said.

“If we only had one of those pills,” Noah said to Alan.

Noah felt a tap on his arm. He turned to see Magda Szysarska looking up at him from her chair, a thin smile on her face. The woman reached into the pocket of her dress. When she opened her hand, it contained two green pills. Mrs. Szysarska placed them in Noah’s hand. Then she said something to the nurse.

“She say she learn from her father which doctors to trust and which not.”

Noah did not need to wait for Justin Herold. He went quickly to the laboratory in the hospital basement, withdrew Herold’s text, and prepared the reagents. This time, he used only a few grains and performed all four tests. Each was positive. The green tablets that had sickened Wanda Szysarska, killed Sinead Ryan, and likely killed Willard Anschutz were a morphiate. Acetylized morphine almost certainly.

He returned to Alan’s office and handed him the tablet he had used for the test. “Alan, could you seal this in an envelope and engage a messenger for me?” Noah gave him Justin Herold’s address. On one of his cards, Noah wrote, “The sedative for coughs,” and asked Alan to place it with the tablet. Herold could perform the tests to confirm the composition of the tablet, although Noah had no doubt of what he would find.

Heroin. The new wonder drug. Safe. Tested. Without risk. The drug with which Arnold Frias had murdered Willard Anschutz.