Part 19 (1/2)

”Now, Doctor, we will go back to Dr. Meredith. Will you explain how it happened that, although you and he were enemies, he should have been called into the case?”

”When the attack of diphtheria presented, I undertook to treat it at first. Two days later I became ill myself, and called in Dr. Fisher. I did not tell him that Mabel was my wife, but let him think, with those in the house, that she was merely my _fiancee_. I gave the case entirely into his care. During my sickness Dr. Fisher became alarmed, and called in Dr. Meredith, of course not suspecting that there existed any ill feeling between him and me. That Dr. Meredith should have accepted the call under the circ.u.mstances, was contrary to medical etiquette, but he did so, and I found him attending my wife when I recovered. I could not interfere very well, without creating a scandal, and, besides, though I despise him as a man, I know him to be one of the best specialists in the city.” Dr. Medjora accorded this praise to his rival with every appearance of honest candor, and it was evident that his doing so was a wise course, causing the jury to receive his other statements with more credulity. If he was playing a part he did so with marvellous tact and judgment.

”Between the time of your return from Europe, and this attack of diphtheria, do you know whether your wife took any morphine?”

”Upon my return I did not question her at all. I had made the threat of abandoning her, with no intention of course of carrying it into effect, for whilst I hoped that it would act as a deterrent, stimulating her will to resist the attraction of the drug, I knew from my professional experience that she would not be able to withstand it entirely. Thus if I had questioned her, she must have confessed, as she was strictly truthful. This would have placed me in an awkward predicament, compelling me to admit that my threat had never been seriously intended, and thus I should have lessened my influence over her for the future. However, not long before her last illness, I found a syringe in her room as well as some tablets. These I appropriated and took away without saying anything to her.”

”How long before the attack of diphtheria was this?”

”Two or three days.”

”Supposing that she had been taking morphine prior to that time, do you think that it might have acc.u.mulated in her system, finally producing death?”

”I object!” said Mr. Munson. ”The witness is not here as an expert.”

”He is the accused,” said the Recorder, ”and as the party having the greatest interest at stake I will allow him to answer. He simply expresses his opinion. The jury will decide whether it is worthy of credence.”

Mr. Bliss smiled with satisfaction, but was a little surprised at the answer, though later he understood better that the Doctor appreciated what he said. The answer was:

”Considering the length of time which elapsed from the moment when I took away the syringe, to the day of her death, I cannot believe that morphine taken previously could have acc.u.mulated, and have caused death ultimately.”

Mr. Bliss was puzzled and paused a moment to think, whilst Mr. Munson, much pleased at this apparently damaging testimony given by the prisoner himself, wore a pleased expression. Mr. Bliss scarcely knew what to ask next. He glanced at a list of notes supplied by Dr.

Medjora and read this one. ”Ask me about retained morphine. Go into it thoroughly.” The latter part of this sentence convinced him that Dr.

Medjora must have conceived his defence along this line, and, therefore, though doubting the propriety of doing so, he ventured another question.

”It has been admitted,” said he, ”by the expert witnesses that morphine may be acc.u.mulated in the system, finally resulting fatally.

How does that occur, and why do you think it did not occur in this case?”

”I have not said that it did not occur. You asked me whether morphine taken prior to her illness, may have caused her death, and I said no, to that. I did not say that she did not die from morphine, because I do not know that. As I understand it, when morphine acts fatally by acc.u.mulation, it is where it is administered continuously. Part of the dose is eliminated, and the rest stored up. Finally this stored up quant.i.ty amounts to a lethal dose. In this case, as far as we know, there was a suspension of the administration. The acc.u.mulated quant.i.ty, when the drug was stopped, could not have amounted to a lethal dose, or death would have ensued. The dosing being discontinued, the stored-up quant.i.ty must have grown less and less, day by day, by gradual elimination.”

This interested the jury very evidently. They could not but decide that this man was honest, to offer such evidence as seemed against his own interests. Mr. Bliss, still puzzled, ventured another question.

”You said that your wife may have died of this drug, or words to that effect. How can you think that?”

”Whilst, as I have said, the acc.u.mulated drug was lessening in quant.i.ty daily, by elimination, nevertheless death by poisoning would have ensued at any time, if a dose of morphine had been administered, of sufficient size, so that when added to that still in the system, the whole would have amounted to a lethal quant.i.ty.”

”Miss Conlin, the nurse, testified that she saw you administer a dose of morphine. She afterwards admitted that she had only seen you remove a syringe. Did you at that time administer a dose of morphine, a dose large enough to have caused death in the manner you have described?”

”I did not.”

”Then as far as you know, your wife did not take any morphine on the day of her death?”

”On the contrary, she did take some!” This was a tremendous surprise.

”How did it occur?” asked Mr. Bliss, still following his notes and at length seeing the point to which Dr. Medjora had been leading.

”She administered it to herself.” The Doctor paused a moment as though to allow his startling statement to be digested. Then he continued: ”As the nurse testified, I gave her permission to go out. I sat and chatted with my wife a few moments, and then bade her be quiet, lest talking should injure the throat. She obeyed, and after a time seemed to be asleep. I sat over by the lamp reading, and, thinking that my patient was asleep, became absorbed in my book, until I was attracted by an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n from my wife. I went to her, and to my surprise found that she had just administered a dose of morphine to herself. I s.n.a.t.c.hed her hands away, and withdrew the instrument whilst there was yet a little of the solution in it. Miss Conlin came in at the moment.

I knew that she had seen me, and not wis.h.i.+ng to arouse her suspicions as to the truth, I preferred to let her think that I had given the injection myself. Therefore I washed out the syringe, and placing it in my pocket, took it away with me.”