A New York Haunting: Pt. 09

The three men had evidently already risen, for he was alone in the dormitory. It was Saturday, and a clock on a nearby nightstand told him he was due in short order at his job in the anatomy lab. Fortunately, the medical school was just across the street from the hospital.

An hour later, while engrossed in his disquieted thoughts and in preparing a teaching specimen for the second-year dissection class, Anders was pulled back to his present surroundings by a knock upon the hall door at the far side of the lab. Gazing over the rows of shrouded cadavers, he saw the door ease open and a head poke in.

And not just any head.

"Mr. Røkke?"

His body surged. "Mrs. Van der Veen! Hello!" Setting aside the instruments and doffing his oilskin butcher's apron, he washed his hands and hastened across the lab. "Let's talk in the hall, away from the fumes. How did you find me?" He tried to contain his happy grin.

"Your landlady said you work here Sat--- Oh! What happened to your head? Are you injured?" Her wide, worried eyes fastened upon his scalp.

"It's a long story." In the morning sunlight streaming through the hall window, Anders drank in her presence. She was clad in a black wool jacket trimmed with rows of black braid in the manner of a military uniform but fitted oh so sweetly to her little round breasts and slender waist. Below that, the dark plum silk of her skirts extended to the floor. Upon her piled up hair was a small black hat with the veil turned up, exposing her lovely face.

Was it his imagination, or did she appear paler and yet more troubled than when he had last seen her? Concerned, he ventured an inquiry, "Did the trip to Boston grant you a reprieve from the ghost's visits?"

"I prayed it might, but evidently someone sent a telegram to Peter in purgatory, for he found me there." Ondine smiled bleakly then glanced over her shoulder towards the door to the street. "I haven't much time. Braddock is waiting outside. I'm supposed to meet my aunt and cousins, and the excuse of being detained in traffic will only suffice for so long." Her eyes searched his face. "Perhaps we can meet tonight in the park? I believe I'll be able to slip away later."

He was agreeable to anything proposed in that soft, slightly husky, feminine voice. He nodded. "The big news is that I tested the stomach contents from Peter's autopsy and confirmed the presence of arsenic."

The girl's eyes grew round, her luminous hazel irises fixing intently upon him. "Stomach contents?"

"Yes."

"That's wonderful news! What happens next? Have you told the police?"

He shook his head. "I was planning to tell my friend who's a pathology resident on Monday. He'll know what the first step is --- whether it's going to the police or the coroner."

"I'm eager to hear the details tonight." Her gaze again flitted towards the street door before returning to him. "Before I go, I wanted to give you this." Pulling in front of her the portfolio bag which Anders now realized was slung over her shoulder, she extracted a large brown envelope and handed it to him --- her gloved hand momentarily was connected to his by the paper bridge. Last they were together, that little hand had been stroking his engorged cock... had been flooded by his hot, pearly seed...

He cleared his throat and focused his attention upon the envelope. Undoing the string closure, he withdrew a small stack of heavy paper sheets. They were the illustrations for the article! Grinning, he looked up. "Thank you, Mrs. Van der Veen! These are perfect!"

A pleased smile flashed upon Ondine's face. "I'll send you a message about tonight," she murmured, turning away. With a quick wave, she departed.

*****

He was overcome by an unexpected rush of fatigue and a renewed headache when he was done in the anatomy lab. After Dr. Hale unlocked the clinic for him to get some aspirin, Anders returned to the cot in the residents' dormitory and immediately fell asleep.

It was after several dreamless hours that he at last awoke again, his headache largely abated. In chagrin, he realized it was early evening. Rising and straightening his clothes, he headed out onto the darkening streets.

When he reached his neighborhood, he slowed to survey the vicinity of the boardinghouse. Nothing was out of the ordinary --- he did not spy Fulton, and there were no waiting carriages or automobiles.

Entering the house, Anders checked the hall table for messages, said hello to young Jimmy Sullivan in the dining room setting the table, and continued to the kitchen.

Mrs. Sullivan looked up from the stove. "Ah, Dr. Røkke! There ye--- Jesus, Mary, Joseph! What happened to your head?"

"Just an accident on a boat."

"Och, me poor lad! Does it hurt?"

"It's all patched up now. I'll live."

"As tall as ye are, 'tis a wonder you're not knocking your noggin more often." She shook her head and opened the icebox, taking out a milk bottle. "Oh, I almost forgot --- there's a message for you on the kitchen table."

Anders lifted aside the latest issue of the gossip newspaper to see an envelope labeled Mr. Røkke --- his heart beat faster when he recognized the handwriting. "Thank you. Erm --- by any chance, did a man come here looking for me?"

The landlady turned around from the stove with a fierce expression. "Aye, last night just before supper --- some rogue was asking after ye."

"Did he give a name?"

"No. He was a young man with curly black hair, so he was. Said he was worried about you and demanded to see inside your room."

Anders' eyebrows lifted.

"Sure, I didn't much care for his high-handed manner, so I sent him packing. But I went up to check for meself. I trust you'll forgive me for looking in your room."

"Of course."

Mrs. Sullivan removed the lid from a pot and stirred the steaming contents. "I swear I've seen that devil somewhere before --- what with his insolent face and fancy clothes --- in the papers maybe. I was afeared you had run afoul of some infamous scoundrel."

Anders couldn't help smiling.

"When I was in your room, seeing as how your coat was wet, I took the liberty of hanging it up in front of the parlour fireplace. You need your good coat in this cold weather, so ye do."

"Did the man see my wet coat?"

Mrs. Sullivan shook her head. "I'd sent him on his way by then."

"God bless you, Mrs. Sullivan!" On impulse, Anders hugged her --- she patted his back and laughed.

"A lad without a family --- even one as big as yourself --- can use a little help now and then."

"If that man comes back, please don't tell him you saw me."

She winked. "Sure, me lips are sealed."

Anders retrieved his now dry coat from the parlour and sprinted up to his room. The message from Ondine read:

Tonight is impossible. Please meet me on the tower at Madison Square Garden tomorrow at 11 am. Give the guard my name.

Damn! He would have to quell a little longer his impatience to see her. But he could not wait here --- as he had feared, Fulton had come looking for him. Pulling out his battered leather Gladstone bag, he packed a textbook, clothing, and other necessary items. While everyone was at dinner, he slipped out of the house and headed back to Roosevelt Hospital.