CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Search for a Strange Medicine

Mr Utterson was reading a book in his library one evening when his servant entered to tell him that Poole was in the hall, wanting to speak to him immediately.

"Yes, of course, show him in," said the lawyer. A moment later Poole entered the library; his face pale and his body shaking.

"My God, Poole!" exclaimed Mr Utterson. "What's the problem? You look terribly ill. Or is the doctor ill? Come and sit by the fire."

"Mr Utterson," cried Poole, "something is very wrong with the doctor!"

"Please calm yourself, Poole," said the lawyer. "Sit down and have a glass of wine with me. When you have your breath back, you can tell me what the problem is." Utterson was very professional at calming upset clients.

Poole obeyed him and sat down. "Sir, you know the doctor has been staying in his office these weeks. He almost never comes out. We just bring him food every day. I have not seen him for a week, so I'm afraid."

"Afraid?" asked the lawyer. "Tell me what you are afraid of, and I will help." Poole did not seem to hear Utterson. "I've been very afraid for a week now." His voice became louder. "I can't bear the situation at the house any longer. None of the servants can."

Utterson faced Poole and spoke a little more sharply. "Poole, tell me exactly what you are afraid of."

Poole looked into the lawyer's eyes. "Murder, Mr Utterson. I don't know how, but I think there's been a murder."

Utterson was shocked to hear mention of murder and sat up all the way in his chair. He asked Poole for more details, but Poole, usually a calm and clear-thinking man, was too terrified to speak. All he would say was that Utterson should come to Jekyll's house and see for himself. At once, Utterson called for his hat and coat. This made Poole a little calmer.

The night was cold and the wind was wild. The moon was pale white and shining brightly. As they walked, the wind blew so loud that talking became difficult, so neither man spoke. Mr Utterson was trying to remain calm and prepare himself for what he might see. However, he feared that something terrible had happened to his friend and this made him hurry.

Poole walked up to Jekyll's front door and knocked softly. The door opened, but the chain was still fastened. Utterson heard a woman's voice ask, "Is that you, Poole?"

"It's me and Mr Utterson. Open the door."

They entered into the hall and the lawyer noticed a group of people sitting close around a fire. The group turned their nervous faces toward Utterson and he saw that they were Jekyll's servants. A young maid was crying loudly. Suddenly, Jekyll's cook ran to him, waving her hands wildly and crying, "Thank God! Mr Utterson, you must help us."

"What is happening here?" said the lawyer. "Why are you all here in the hall?"

Poole answered for all of them, "We're afraid," he said. Then he picked up a candle and added, "Please, sir, come with me to the laboratory. Be completely silent and just listen. If Dr Jekyll asks to see you, don't go in."

Utterson was surprised by this strange advice, but he did not say anything. He followed Poole up the stairs to the office door.

Poole knocked, saying, "Sir, Mr Utterson is asking to see you." He raised his hand to his ear to show Utterson that he should listen.

A strange voice from inside the office said, "Tell him that I am busy and cannot see anyone."

"I will, sir," said Poole, and they quickly went back down the stairs. "Now, Mr Utterson, did that sound like my master's voice?"

Utterson thought for a moment and said slowly, "No, it's ... changed."

"Changed? Not changed, sir!" cried Poole. "That is not his voice at all. My master is dead! That voice is Mr Hyde's; I recognize it from when he was staying here before. Hyde is in that office pretending to be Dr Jekyll. Eight days ago, we heard the master make a terrible cry, calling on God. Since that day, this strange voice has been answering me when I knock and giving me orders."

Mr Utterson realized that he was sweating from nervousness. "Your story is a wild one and I cannot understand it, Poole. Why would a murderer stay in the room after he's done his killing? And for eight more days ... that wouldn't be very smart!"

"I don't know how to answer that question, sir," said Poole. "But I know my master's voice. Hyde, or whoever is now living in that office, has been ordering me to find some special medicine every day and night. Before, when Dr Jekyll was working, he would write down any medicines he needed on a piece of paper, and leave the paper on the stairs for me. I would then take the notes to the medicine stores. Well, this past week he has been leaving me notes every hour. I have done nothing but run to different stores!"

Utterson shook his head. "Perhaps he is working on an important experiment. He often works on experiments using many medicines. There's nothing strange about that, is there?"

"Wait, sir, I haven't finished telling you all the details. Each time I bring some medicine the doctor says that it is not the right one. Each time he sends me back to the chemist, along with an order to return the drug I have just brought home. I don't know what kind of medicine he is looking for, but you can see he wants it desperately!"

"Do you have any of these notes?" asked Utterson.

Poole reached into his pockets and pulled out a few small pieces of paper. Moving over to the light of a candle, Mr Utterson read: "Dr Jekyll gives his greetings to Mr Maw, Chemist. I wish to tell you that the last medicine you sent me was impure and of bad quality. Two years ago I bought a large quantity of this same medicine, and I wish to find the same good quality as I received then. Please search your store for more of that same kind of medicine. I am willing to pay any amount of money."

The letter sounded normal and professional at first, but soon it became strangely full of emotion. The handwriting in the second half of the letter was hard to read and the words said: "For God's sake, quickly find me some of the old!"

Mr Utterson looked up to Poole. "You are right. This is most strange. Why is the letter not in an envelope, Poole? Are you daring to open his letters?"

"No, sir. When I delivered the envelope to the chemist, the man became angry and threw it back at me. He said that they had already sent their best medicines to him, and that they did not want to send more and have him return them again."

The lawyer looked again at the paper in his hand. "I have seen Jekyll's handwriting many times and I would say that he definitely wrote this letter. Do you disagree with me, Poole?"

Poole shook his head sadly, "No, sir. You are right. This is definitely his handwriting. But now I must tell you the worst part of my story. I have seen this person in the office—this thing. One evening it left the office to look in the boxes in the laboratory just as I came in through the garden entrance."

Mr Utterson stood very still. "Please continue, Poole."

"He saw me coming in and let out a strange cry. Then he ran quickly up the stairs and back into the office. He closed the door so loudly that it almost broke off." Poole's voice became scared and he began to whisper. "Why would my master have hid his face from me? Why would he cry out like an animal and run from me?"

Mr Utterson tried to think of a reasonable explanation, as lawyers are trained to do. "I agree that these are very strange things, Poole. But there must be an explanation. Perhaps Dr Jekyll has become ill with a sickness that has affected his skin. That is why he covered his face and why he hides from his friends. And, of course, he is now searching for a cure, so he has sent you from chemist to chemist looking for medicine. I think that this must be what is happening."

Now Poole stood up as tall as he could and spoke out firmly and bravely, with none of his usual politeness. "No, sir, I must disagree! That man I saw in the laboratory was very short, a dwarf even, not my master, who is very tall. That thing in there is not Dr Jekyll! It does not have his body, his face, or his voice. No, I tell you that Dr Jekyll has been murdered! I promise you that!"

For many minutes Utterson thought about Poole's words. Finally he said, "Poole, if you are sure about what you say, then there is only one thing to do. We must go get tools from the house, and then break down the door to that office!"

(end of section)