The Devil's Grin: Illustrated Edition (An Anna Kronberg Thriller Book 1) by Annelie Wendeberg
Authors: Annelie Wendeberg
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like a sore navel. Behind it were several semi-circular rows of students, with each row one step higher than its predecessor — reminiscent of an inverted pyramid. Most of the men were familiar to me and the few new ones in the front rows would soon push back. The room was packed; murmurs and the scraping of feet filled the air.
I coughed and most faces turned into my direction. The ones who knew the rules elbowed the new students who were about to light their cigarettes or pipes, resulting in a moment of confusion and muttering.
Anatomical amphitheatre. (9)
‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ I announced. It was my private bold joke, for only male students were admitted, not to mention male lecturers. After a short while, the hall fell quiet. My reputation here was such that the young men obeyed the few rules I set: no talking and no smoking, or they would have to leave immediately. But they also knew that there wouldn’t be a dull moment in the next two hours.
‘Today around noon, this man was found at the entrance gate. He had severe muscle spasms and was unable to walk. He was brought into the ward for infectious diseases and died within minutes. Can anyone tell me something about the cause of death?’
After a moment, a new student from the front row squared his shoulders and cried, ‘Tetanus!’
As expected.
I shook my head and smiled. ‘You might be wrong there.’
His face fell. ‘With all due respect, Dr Kronberg—’
‘I do hope so, Mister, but I fear you forgot to introduce yourself.’
‘My name is Wallace McFadin.’
‘A Scot! Very well, then! I like your music, Mr McFadin; do you play the bagpipes well?’
‘Er… I’m… I don’t play bagpipes.’
‘But you are Scottish?’
‘Yes, I am.’ His face had acquired a purple hue.
‘So if you are a Scot, why don’t you play the bagpipes?’
‘Just because I’m a Scot doesn’t mean I play bagpipes!’ He slammed his hand on the table in front of him.
‘Precisely!’ I said and saw that I had lost him. ‘My apologies, Mr McFadin, I used you for a demonstration. When you meet a Scot, he doesn’t necessarily play the bagpipes. The same is true for Mr Unknown here.’ I pointed to the man on the slab. ‘He died while exhibiting severe muscle spasms. You can see all the typical tetanus symptoms, including the remarkable devilish grin.’
Touching the man’s cold cheek, I wondered how many of my students felt repelled, how many pitied the man, and how many were amused by his shocking appearance. I looked back at them and continued. ‘But does that necessarily mean that he died from tetanus? No, it does not! I urge everyone in this room to be cautious and to not let our limited knowledge mask our senses. Just because we think it must have been tetanus that killed the man, doesn’t necessarily mean this was indeed the case. Preconception prohibits learning! Only after we have learned all there is to learn, after we have studied and observed, only then can we draw our conclusions. And do not expect to always find an answer to your questions. If you have done your very best and still cannot find an explanation, it is acceptable and honourable to say, “I do not know.”’
Several students were looking a bit perplexed now. I knew they had learned that superiority went hand-in-hand with practising medicine. This, in my opinion, was all rubbish.
‘You must see yourselves as scientists. And science is a work in progress, as is learning. You are solving a bacterial crime, gentlemen! I know your anatomy professors teach you to view the person you are dissecting as a subject. It is easier to slice apart a thing than a human being. But if you do so, you are ignoring important facts. The man could have died of an infectious disease, which makes him a human being with a significant history. A history that you have to reveal! How else would you identify the causative agent and aid in the prevention of further infections? Read up on Dr
I coughed and most faces turned into my direction. The ones who knew the rules elbowed the new students who were about to light their cigarettes or pipes, resulting in a moment of confusion and muttering.
Anatomical amphitheatre. (9)
‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ I announced. It was my private bold joke, for only male students were admitted, not to mention male lecturers. After a short while, the hall fell quiet. My reputation here was such that the young men obeyed the few rules I set: no talking and no smoking, or they would have to leave immediately. But they also knew that there wouldn’t be a dull moment in the next two hours.
‘Today around noon, this man was found at the entrance gate. He had severe muscle spasms and was unable to walk. He was brought into the ward for infectious diseases and died within minutes. Can anyone tell me something about the cause of death?’
After a moment, a new student from the front row squared his shoulders and cried, ‘Tetanus!’
As expected.
I shook my head and smiled. ‘You might be wrong there.’
His face fell. ‘With all due respect, Dr Kronberg—’
‘I do hope so, Mister, but I fear you forgot to introduce yourself.’
‘My name is Wallace McFadin.’
‘A Scot! Very well, then! I like your music, Mr McFadin; do you play the bagpipes well?’
‘Er… I’m… I don’t play bagpipes.’
‘But you are Scottish?’
‘Yes, I am.’ His face had acquired a purple hue.
‘So if you are a Scot, why don’t you play the bagpipes?’
‘Just because I’m a Scot doesn’t mean I play bagpipes!’ He slammed his hand on the table in front of him.
‘Precisely!’ I said and saw that I had lost him. ‘My apologies, Mr McFadin, I used you for a demonstration. When you meet a Scot, he doesn’t necessarily play the bagpipes. The same is true for Mr Unknown here.’ I pointed to the man on the slab. ‘He died while exhibiting severe muscle spasms. You can see all the typical tetanus symptoms, including the remarkable devilish grin.’
Touching the man’s cold cheek, I wondered how many of my students felt repelled, how many pitied the man, and how many were amused by his shocking appearance. I looked back at them and continued. ‘But does that necessarily mean that he died from tetanus? No, it does not! I urge everyone in this room to be cautious and to not let our limited knowledge mask our senses. Just because we think it must have been tetanus that killed the man, doesn’t necessarily mean this was indeed the case. Preconception prohibits learning! Only after we have learned all there is to learn, after we have studied and observed, only then can we draw our conclusions. And do not expect to always find an answer to your questions. If you have done your very best and still cannot find an explanation, it is acceptable and honourable to say, “I do not know.”’
Several students were looking a bit perplexed now. I knew they had learned that superiority went hand-in-hand with practising medicine. This, in my opinion, was all rubbish.
‘You must see yourselves as scientists. And science is a work in progress, as is learning. You are solving a bacterial crime, gentlemen! I know your anatomy professors teach you to view the person you are dissecting as a subject. It is easier to slice apart a thing than a human being. But if you do so, you are ignoring important facts. The man could have died of an infectious disease, which makes him a human being with a significant history. A history that you have to reveal! How else would you identify the causative agent and aid in the prevention of further infections? Read up on Dr
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