These Honored Dead (A Lincoln and Speed Mystery #1) - Jonathan F. Putnam Page 0,91

arrest.

“So I moved from Lexington to Illinois, first to Albion, along the Wabash River, and then to Decatur. I ministered to the people of Decatur for nearly a decade. That’s where I met my beloved wife,” he added. For the first time in his testimony, the doctor looked directly at Jane, sitting near me in the gallery, and the two of them locked eyes for a moment.

“After my wife passed on,” Patterson continued, “I decided to move to Springfield to continue my practice. And I’ve been serving the people of this community ever since.”

“Have you done your best, at all times, to care for the people of this community faithfully and honestly?” Lincoln asked.

“I have.”

“Have you ever intentionally harmed any of your patients?”

“Of course not. The human vessel’s a mysterious thing, Mr. Lincoln. We can’t always be sure how the body will react to a particular trauma or to a specific treatment. The best I can do as a modern medical man is to apply my learning and my skill to the cases I’m presented.”

“You mentioned before the notion of ‘modern’ medical practices,” Lincoln said. “What do you mean?”

“Too many of my brethren are stuck in the medieval epoch of medicine,” Patterson replied confidently. “Knowledge of the medical arts has grown dramatically in the past few decades. New surgeries and treatments have been devised. But too few medical men are willing to acknowledge these improvements or to make use of them in treating their patients.”

“Such as what?” said Lincoln.

“Let me give an example one of the gentlemen of the jury is very personally familiar with,” Patterson replied. He gestured toward juror Burton Judson, who gave a nod back.

“Last April,” the doctor continued, “one of the sons of Judson over there was thrown from his horse and landed headfirst on top of a stone wall in their fields. When I reached him, the boy was insensible. His skull was swelling quite severely. The injury would have produced death within the hour had I not acted. In the event, I used my trephine to evacuate a hole half an inch in diameter in the skull in order to achieve an immediate reduction of the pressure.

“Most medical men would have stopped there, I daresay. But I knew, from my study of the lectures of great medical men such as Sir Astley Paston Cooper, President of the Royal College of Surgeons and the personal surgeon to the King, that it was also crucial to take a large quantity of blood, so as to reduce the ability of the brain to swell again. So I opened the boy’s arm and took ten ounces, twice, over a one-hour period and took another eight ounces in the evening. My treatments produced a very favorable outcome. The boy regained consciousness, and he was able to converse with Judson, and with Mrs. Judson too. They were able to say a few words of love to each other.”

Patterson looked over at Judson again. “Regrettably, even modern medicine has its limits,” the doctor continued. “The boy passed the following day. But his parents will always have the memory of that final conversation, I’m happy to say.”

As I studied Judson’s face, I wasn’t confident he would have described Patterson’s treatment of his son in such favorable terms. Lincoln must have feared the same because he interposed, rather hastily, “Let me ask about some more of your modern methods, Dr. Patterson, though perhaps it’s best if you leave out the jury and their families from the cases you discuss.”

Patterson proceeded to expound at great length on other modern treatments he had brought to the people of Springfield, including the application of blisters to the neck, sinapsims to the feet, calomel purges to open the bowels, a compound of lemonade and mercury to promote regularity, and antimonials to induce perspiration. Indeed, the discussion went on so long that Judge Thomas, chewing on his cigar with increasing agitation, was forced to call the morning recess. When, upon resumption of the proceedings, Lincoln continued the same line of questioning, the judge cleared his throat and looked at Prickett.

The prosecutor rose quickly from his seat and said, “I object, Your Honor. This testimony has got nothing to do with the three persons Dr. Patterson killed—is alleged to have killed.”

“Yes, I think the objection is well taken,” Judge Thomas said at once. “Move along, Mr. Lincoln.”

“With respect, Your Honor,” Lincoln said evenly, “we listened to Dr. Warren expound at length the other day. Seems to be a hazard