Indeed, would you write down all the witnesses? I think we had better have a list of the dramatis personae.”
I was alarmed at my friend’s tone, which seemed part scepticism and part downright churlishness.
“Their names? I do not think …” Our visitor was plainly upset at this novel suggestion that he should be the one to take a copy of the evidence he was giving.
“If you please!” Holmes insisted, as if about to sigh with weariness.
“I will do it,” I said, taking out pencil and notebook and wondering what the devil my colleague was up to. “Leave Mr. Dordona to tell his story.”
Samuel Dordona followed my pencil.
“The surgeon was Major Callaghan. Mrs. Carey you already know.”
“The surgeon remained with Captain Carey?” I asked.
“At first, Major Callaghan remained, but he had other duties. Annie Carey or I watched by her husband that night. The captain slipped in and out of consciousness; but when he was awake, his words were never rambling. It was only the inquest which suggested they were—and that was wrong. Once he had woken, he had complete and lucid command of his faculties. He knew what he was saying as clearly as you and I do at this moment.”
There was a silence and then Holmes spoke, still rather coldly:
“You, sir, are the minister of an overseas medical mission. You do not yet claim, I take it, to be a medical man? Or do you?”
I flinched again at his tone. Mr. Dordona sat like stone on the edge of his chair, upright in threadbare clerical suit, hands clasped, dark eyes intently on Holmes, black hair absurdly sculpted in its ridge-tile peak.
“Sir, I have used my furlough to study for the First Aid Diploma. I hope to be of some extra use to my people when I return to India. That is all.”
“You were not called by the court of inquiry into the accident?” I asked.
Mr. Dordona glanced at each of us in turn, as if wondering whom to trust.
“That court of inquiry was held quite some time after the inquest. I was on the high seas by then, returning to England. I should not have been called anyway. I had no conclusive evidence to offer. I was not, as you say, an eye-witness. What Captain Carey said to me during that last night could not be corroborated and was perhaps best not repeated in public just then. Unfortunately, the regimental surgeon had already assured the inquest that the injured man was never more than semiconscious after the accident. In other words, rambling. That word again! I carried no credit against that, gentlemen, and so I have kept my evidence for you.”
“Tell us about the prognosis after the accident,” I asked him. “Do you think Captain Carey knew that he was going to die—or was likely to die? As a matter of law, that might make a real difference to the validity of his uncorroborated words as evidence.”
“Not at first, I think. To begin with, Major Callaghan thought he would pull through and indeed said so. He said that as long as the intestine was not ruptured, there was hope. He instructed the orderly to use hot fomentations to relieve the abdominal pain. But nothing more.”
“As I should have done,” I said approvingly.
“His wife, Annie, however, was very distressed by his condition. Poor soul, she asked if a mild dose of laudanum could be given to ease the unhappy man’s ordeal. The surgeon advised against laudanum. It would relieve the pain, he told her, but it would also mask any further symptoms.”
“That was correct again,” I said, “so long as there was still hope for him.”
“The rest of that first day, it still seemed there was no rupture. The doctor’s exact words were that it would be looking on the black side to think there was such serious damage. That night we were advised to keep applying hot fomentations and to administer sips of hot water. But poor Carey looked dreadful by this time, eyes sunk and cheeks drawn in. I believe there was what is known as the facies Hippocratica, so the inquest called it, a sure sign of the worst. I saw that for myself. Next morning, his condition had not improved. However, they administered turpentine internally.”
I shook my head. “That would do no good. It would be too late. Did his temperature sink?”
Samuel Dordona nodded. “It continued to sink after that. Of course, the diagnosis now changed. His intestine had been ruptured after all. The surgeon acknowledged