Anna reasoned that if this announcement in the newspaper frightened one woman away, it was worth the effort and expense. “But what if it makes him angry, what might that mean? Would it make him—strike out more often?”
“My sense is that it won’t make a difference,” Jack said. “I think he’s picking up his pace anyway, and that may mean he’s getting sloppy. I’ve been wondering ever since we interviewed Mamie Winthrop’s maid. She gave me the impression that women like Winthrop don’t have trouble finding a doctor to solve this particular problem, if the price is right and it can be handled privately. Is that true?”
“Nobody talks about it, but yes, probably. This is one of those areas where physicians say one thing publicly to protect themselves, but then do what they must in the patient’s best interest.”
“Or for their bank balances.”
She nodded, stiffly. “There are unscrupulous physicians, as there are unscrupulous bankers and factory owners and police. Can we talk about something else?”
Just then Mrs. Cabot brought in the mail, a letter from Amelie on the very top.
“Apparently not,” Anna said, and opened it while Jack began to look through the rest of the mail.
She said, “She sent a newspaper clipping with a note. We’re supposed to go see a woman called Kate Sparrow who lives on Patchin Place; she’s got a market stall where she sells sewing supplies, buttons and ribbons and such. I know her stall, but where is Patchin Place?”
“Just across from the Jefferson Market, off Tenth. What’s the clipping?”
Her gaze still on the letter, she handed the newspaper article over.
“From the Morning News.” He swallowed the last of his coffee and read aloud.
SHOCKING TESTIMONY DURING THE CAMPBELL INQUEST
LADY DOCTORS PROVIDE SALACIOUS DETAILS IN A PUBLIC FORUM
OUTRAGE IN THE GALLERY
Yesterday the jury of physicians hearing evidence in the Janine Campbell inquest heard testimony from Dr. Anna Savard and Dr. Sophie Savard Verhoeven. Questioning of Dr. Savard Verhoeven was particularly sharp and often accusatory in tone.
“She may be a lady of unusual intelligence,” commented a juror who wishes to remain anonymous. “But she is still a woman and a mulatta, and unsuited to the practice of medicine.”
In questioning Dr. Savard Verhoeven, Anthony Comstock of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice criticized the deceased’s behavior and declared that in pursuing an illegal operation Mrs. Campbell had reaped the terrible harvest of her sins against the laws of God and man. In the testimony that followed the jury and gallery heard details of the Campbells’ marriage that were so personal in nature that Dr. James Cameron, a retired physician, left the courtroom in an outrage.
“Such topics violate all rules of decency,” he told reporters outside the Tombs. He went on to quote the second book of Timothy, verses 11–12, “Let a woman learn quietly with all submissiveness. I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man; rather, she is to remain quiet.”
When asked whether his admonition was meant for the deceased Mrs. Campbell or the Drs. Savard, Dr. Cameron said: “Both.”
Jack said, “She underlined the name of the doctor they quote, James Cameron. In the margin she wrote: ‘He’s not dead after all.’ What does that mean?”
Anna felt as if she had been struck hard in the stomach.
“Anna, is this the old man who bellowed at the coroner and then stomped out of the courtroom?”
“I think it must be. Do you remember what he looked like?”
Jack shrugged. “Frail, bent. Very proper, old-fashioned. Walked with a cane.”
“Yes,” Anna said. “Of course, the cane.” She looked at him directly and knew that she could not hide the disquiet she was feeling. “I saw him, this Dr. Cameron, just the other day, but I didn’t recognize him. It was when I came out of the coffeehouse across from Jefferson Market.”
One of his eyebrows peaked, and she knew she had his entire attention. “Go on.”
“He was coming down from the el platform. I suppose I never really looked at him in the courtroom, I was so focused on Sophie on the stand. But he looked at me as if he knew me and didn’t like what he knew. I remember now, there was another letter he wrote, to the editor at the Tribune.”
Jack stood up and walked across the room and then back again to sit down where he started. “Tell me what your cousin said about him when you saw her.”
Anna closed her eyes to concentrate, and then recounted what she remembered: a man more bent on purifying women’s souls than saving their lives.