Page 37 of The Scent of Intuition
“What did he want?” Felix asked as he and Andre walked in, arms crossed, and looked out the window. They had seemingly been waiting outside the apothecary’s door until the prince left.
“Langley said he was on a diplomatic mission. He doesn’t look sick to me,” Andre said, poking at the truth in his telltale Italian method of interrogation. Whoever credited the Greek philosopher Socrates for investigative methods hadn’t met Dr. Andre Fernando from Florence, Italy.
“I can’t say.” Alfie squatted under the counter to pick out the beakers and flasks for the mixture he needed to make.
“We are a practice, so in fact youcansay,” Felix said. “Patient information is held closely among us.”
There was even more to it and Alfie knew that. If anything could harm one of them, they’d all be affected—not merely if their business suffered but because they were like a family. Secrets shared between the five of them—Alfie, Nick, Andre, Felix, and Wendy—were sacred. And they’d protect each other, their patients, and the confidentiality of their patients, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t consult with each other and help. That was the thing with the doctors at 87 Harley Street. They weren’t just collaborators or colleagues; they weren’t merely friends. They were family. They’d lay down their lives for one another. And what was worth even more than life itself, they’d sacrifice their licenses to practice for one another.
They had an unwritten code of honor dictating that they’d share delicate questions of ethics, medicine, or even life itself. Like in a family, the others might get upset and admonish him for his mistakes, but they would always come to his rescue. Not telling them about this was too big, too dangerous.
“He’s not a patient,” Alfie mumbled behind the counter.
“Then tell me what you’re making.” Andre leaned forward and tried to peer over at him. “I worry that it’s dangerous or else you wouldn’t make such a secret of it.”
Alfie got up and placed three small glass vials on the counter along with the glass flasks to boil his concoction over the burners. He cast Andre a look and pinched his lips; he wouldn’t say. That didn’t mean he couldn’t show.
And yet, he had a duty to preserve his customers’ secrets.
“Indian pennywort, belladonna, and henbane,” Alfie said. “Then muskroot and valerian. I cannot tell you any more.”
Andre cocked his head. “Isn’t henbane what they poured in Hamlet’s father’s ear to kill him?”
“The Greeks poisoned their arrows with a decoction of henbane. Vikings even took the seeds to their graves,” Felix added. If it weren’t helpful for a muscle ache or to clean wounds, an ordinary orthopedist wouldn’t know. Felix, however, had studied in Delhi with Alfie. Even if he didn’t know how to mix the medicines, Felix knew what to ask for, given various symptoms.
“If you had a patient with earaches, rheumatism, sciatica, and insomnia, you could tell me. If it were for a toothache, you’d have already sent him to me. That leaves only one use.” The dentist opened his eyes wide. “Hallucinations, the inability to withhold the impulse to speak, and unconsciousness.” Andre leaned forward. “Who’s getting the truth serum?”
Alfie held Felix’s gaze momentarily and then surveyed Andre’s expression. It was stern and unforgiving, with a gravity unusual in the man’s expression.
“Someone who deserves it,” Alfie said.We all know him and yet I can’t say.
“Alfie, we swore the Hippocratic oath. You mustn’t administer poisons that could alter a person’s perception of reality without their consent.” Andre, usually the first to joke and promote mischief, had lost the benevolent Italian lilt, and now his accent sounded rather strict.
“I’m not doing anything like that.”
“Ayurvedic medicine should be used for cures and treatments, Alfie. You promised never to act in bad faith,” Felix said. “You’re not above the law and you can’t take justice in your own hands. We both promised to Master Varier when we completed our apprenticeships in India. You even stayed an extra two months until you earned your fare back to England!”
“Yes! We promised not to use it for evil or to manipulate people.That’s whyI agreed to make it.”
Felix’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth slightly agape as he blinked rapidly, seemingly struggling to comprehend Alfie’s words.
“Some people use their influence to manipulate and twist the truth, to create hurdles for the people I love and respect. I’m hoping to extract some information to make it stop,” Alfie added.
“By poisoning them? It’s not your job to bring justice to where you believe it belongs,” Andre said.
Alfie swallowed hard. He knew that.
Yet, this was necessary.
He pulled out the vials and little paper packets of dried herbs from his drawers, then uncorked the belladonna extract from the drawer of his counter. Felix grabbed his wrist.
“Who’s this for, Alfie?”
“What if I told you it was for the enemy?”
Felix let go of his wrist. “My enemy or yours?”
“Does it matter?”
