Ubertino’s death did not arise through poison?”
The physician nodded. “The stomach is strong, Signore. But not that strong. Shall I show you all that I found in Ubertino’s body? Perhaps you would like to see for yourself and leave no doubt in your mind as to the cause of death. ”
At that instant the thought of Ubertino gorging himself to death appeared to me somewhat senseless. I gave a nod and stared at the physician as he motioned toward a door. I was not prepared for what he was about to show me. He entered a smaller room and stood beside what appeared to be an enormous covered jar. He tugged at the cloth and I saw at once, the repulsive content of that glass jar.
“That is impossible!” I could not believe it. “He swallowed it all?”
Abram grunted. He stood by the jar, tracing the mottled glass with his fingers.
“You will see here and here, the blood from the accident. Yes, yes, everything. It appears, Signor da Parma, that Ubertino was a very hungry man. If only he had shown some discipline.”
I think that was his attempt at wit but the gruesome sight had stripped me of humor. I waved at him, hoping that he would promptly replace the cloth, which he did.
“Ubertino dies of a stomach rupture and loss of blood,” I pronounced, brandishing my parchment. “Will you, dottore , sign this deposition?”
He appeared unwilling to do so.
“We will now proceed to Guido Canal, younger brother of Ubertino,” he replied, ignoring my request.
I followed him to the first room where for the second time, he presented me with a covered corpse. As he removed the linen, I immediately shielded my face.
“Drowning, Signor da Parma. That is clear. Guido fell into the Canal. The stench of alcohol fills his lungs and they, in turn, are filled with water from the lagoon. That, I can assure you, was the state of his body when it was retrieved near the Rialto on the steps of some citizen’s water door.”
I grimaced at the bluish bloated corpse. Again, I presented the physician with a parchment and asked him to write a due statement and sign it. But he frowned and looked to his feet in silence.
“Is there something wrong?” I asked.
“Yes, yes.”
“ Dottore , I shall need your signature. If we are to rule out murder of these two signori , your professional contribution to the case is necessary.”
“I am not certain that you would wish me to make this deposition, Signore,” he smiled almost apologetically, “once I reveal to you the unfortunate circumstances of the third signore’s death.”
“I do not doubt your abilities, dottore ,” I replied as he grew even more unsettled.
I watched him bite his lips as he looked away, evading my gaze.
“Signore,” he whispered, “you may doubt in my capacity to advise this case, once you learn more of Balsamo Morosini’s condition. Certainly, I can attest to my honesty and the verity of what I am about to say. But...are you, yourself, Signor da Parma, a man devoid of prejudices? Will you, when you have heard it, question my judgment?”
“You would do me a great honor, dottore , if you could lay aside your fears. The man who stands before you is more open on matters of the metaphysical than you would believe... I shall will myself to listen to what you have to say. I will not question your diagnosis of Balsamo’s death. If you say it is, then I will write it as you say it. Even if I do not understand, which is evident, considering my humble background, I will defer the medical summation of this man’s death to your solid judgment. You come highly recommended, dottore .”
As I spoke, I felt the intensity of his gaze. The sagging skin beneath his eyes trembled.
“But what if, Signore... What if what I have to say lies not in the sound judgment that one would expect of a physician. What shall you say to that, Signor da Parma?”
“How do you mean? You mean, you are not certain?”
“Oh, no,” he shook his head, “I am
The physician nodded. “The stomach is strong, Signore. But not that strong. Shall I show you all that I found in Ubertino’s body? Perhaps you would like to see for yourself and leave no doubt in your mind as to the cause of death. ”
At that instant the thought of Ubertino gorging himself to death appeared to me somewhat senseless. I gave a nod and stared at the physician as he motioned toward a door. I was not prepared for what he was about to show me. He entered a smaller room and stood beside what appeared to be an enormous covered jar. He tugged at the cloth and I saw at once, the repulsive content of that glass jar.
“That is impossible!” I could not believe it. “He swallowed it all?”
Abram grunted. He stood by the jar, tracing the mottled glass with his fingers.
“You will see here and here, the blood from the accident. Yes, yes, everything. It appears, Signor da Parma, that Ubertino was a very hungry man. If only he had shown some discipline.”
I think that was his attempt at wit but the gruesome sight had stripped me of humor. I waved at him, hoping that he would promptly replace the cloth, which he did.
“Ubertino dies of a stomach rupture and loss of blood,” I pronounced, brandishing my parchment. “Will you, dottore , sign this deposition?”
He appeared unwilling to do so.
“We will now proceed to Guido Canal, younger brother of Ubertino,” he replied, ignoring my request.
I followed him to the first room where for the second time, he presented me with a covered corpse. As he removed the linen, I immediately shielded my face.
“Drowning, Signor da Parma. That is clear. Guido fell into the Canal. The stench of alcohol fills his lungs and they, in turn, are filled with water from the lagoon. That, I can assure you, was the state of his body when it was retrieved near the Rialto on the steps of some citizen’s water door.”
I grimaced at the bluish bloated corpse. Again, I presented the physician with a parchment and asked him to write a due statement and sign it. But he frowned and looked to his feet in silence.
“Is there something wrong?” I asked.
“Yes, yes.”
“ Dottore , I shall need your signature. If we are to rule out murder of these two signori , your professional contribution to the case is necessary.”
“I am not certain that you would wish me to make this deposition, Signore,” he smiled almost apologetically, “once I reveal to you the unfortunate circumstances of the third signore’s death.”
“I do not doubt your abilities, dottore ,” I replied as he grew even more unsettled.
I watched him bite his lips as he looked away, evading my gaze.
“Signore,” he whispered, “you may doubt in my capacity to advise this case, once you learn more of Balsamo Morosini’s condition. Certainly, I can attest to my honesty and the verity of what I am about to say. But...are you, yourself, Signor da Parma, a man devoid of prejudices? Will you, when you have heard it, question my judgment?”
“You would do me a great honor, dottore , if you could lay aside your fears. The man who stands before you is more open on matters of the metaphysical than you would believe... I shall will myself to listen to what you have to say. I will not question your diagnosis of Balsamo’s death. If you say it is, then I will write it as you say it. Even if I do not understand, which is evident, considering my humble background, I will defer the medical summation of this man’s death to your solid judgment. You come highly recommended, dottore .”
As I spoke, I felt the intensity of his gaze. The sagging skin beneath his eyes trembled.
“But what if, Signore... What if what I have to say lies not in the sound judgment that one would expect of a physician. What shall you say to that, Signor da Parma?”
“How do you mean? You mean, you are not certain?”
“Oh, no,” he shook his head, “I am
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