Doktor Glass by Thomas Brennan Read Free Book Online Page B

jars. Other civilizations have used similar containers for similar reasons.”
    To Langton, the story could have come straight from the pages of the penny periodicals, and the more alarmist ones at that. But to have it endorsed by a renowned professor…
    “You actually believe this?”
    “Consider the times in which we live, Inspector. We have achieved more in the past fifty years than we have in the last five hundred, or a thousand. We have come so far since Thomas Willis and the ‘Oxford Circle’ of philosopher-physicians back in the seventeenth century first posited the human brain as the engine of reason, passion, and insanity.
    “We have pushed back the boundaries in every subject: science, engineering, medicine, manufacturing, art. Why not this? And why should there be any boundaries at all? What if all the disciplines are connected? There may be no separation between medicine and superstition, or between science and religion.”
    The Professor’s zeal disturbed Langton. And he thought he detected a hint of hubris, maybe even of arrogance. “What good would come from capturing someone’s soul?”
    “Apart from proving that such a thing existed? A good question.” The Professor sank down in his chair and suddenly looked old and tired. “Klaustus found a strange side effect in his experiment: He sealed the jars with copper and wax, and when he touched the metalcollar, he experienced a brief image from the subject’s life. For those few seconds, he relived some of the poor man’s memories.”
    Langton didn’t want to make the connection, but the Professor did it for him: “Some people, Inspector, like to vicariously replay those captured lives. They enjoy the sensation of being someone else, of plundering other minds. Some consider it a great…delicacy.”
    Langton looked around at the luxurious room and the staring Egyptian effigies. It seemed unreal, as did the city that surely existed beyond those walls. “This happens here? In Liverpool?”
    Professor Caldwell Chivers nodded. “Throughout Britain, Inspector. With the Span completed, no doubt America also, soon enough.”
    Langton remembered Mrs. Grizedale’s words, her belief that Sarah had been captured. Without realizing it, he gripped the Professor’s arm. “Who? Who deals in these jars? Who?”
    “Please, Inspector.” The Professor pulled back. “It might be no more than hearsay. I have no proof—”
    “Who?”
    The old professor hesitated. “There’s Springheel Bob’s gang, and the Caribs, but I know of one name that my patients and their families repeat over and over again in fear, a pseudonym for Lord knows who.”
    “What is the name, Professor? Please.”
    The Professor looked into Langton’s eyes and said, “Doktor Glass.”

Four
    L ANGTON WOKE IN his own bed and enjoyed a moment of absolute, stupefied forgetfulness. Then, when his searching hand found only crumpled bedclothes, reality returned with its burden of fresh memories. He lay there for a moment, staring at the dull grey light through heavy curtains, then threw back the tangled covers and found his robe. The bedside clock said seven.
    After the shocks and excitement of the previous day, he had been afraid to go to sleep. He’d expected the same recurring nightmare, only with the added horror that it might be more than a dream. Exhaustion had silenced his demons; he could remember no nightmares this morning.
    One decision remained from his interview with the Professor: to explore Sarah’s final moments. Although Langton had arrived too late at the Infirmary, Redfers, their family doctor, had accompanied Sarah from home to the emergency room. Elsie had called Redfers out that night, while a case had preoccupied Langton. Now he couldn’t even remember the details of the case, or perhaps he didn’t want to think of that night.
    He knew he must. He crossed to his bureau and jotted a note to Doctor Redfers. Not a request, but a statement: Langton would call on him that