The Stars Are Right: The Irish Rose: Heroic Doctor Speaks!

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Heroic Doctor Speaks!

Fateful Interview That Led to Monday's Bloody Clash

Doctor Parkhurst is a tall, fair man, with an unmasculine beauty balanced by a commanding grace of presence. When we spoke, he was nattily attired in a blue serge suit that complemented his eyes, a striking shade of almost metallic blue. He spoke lightly and rapidly on a number of topics, ranging from his history with Katie Flynn to his pioneering work with diseases of the blood to, finally, the seriousness of his family's loss.

Also present for this interview were certain select members of the Detroit underworld. While the Times is in all matters a tireless defender of civic virtue, their cooperation was instrumental in uncovering crime much more monstrous than the quotidian smuggling of contraband spirits from across the 49th parallel; it is in recognition of their singular contribution to the uncovering of this horrifying crime that their names have been withheld from this record.

GP: Thank you for your invitation, Mr. Lovejoy. How could I turn down such an unexpected pleasure? Detroit is a fascinating city.

DET: Thank you for coming. How did you first meet Miss Flynn?

GP: Heather -- I suppose you know her best as Katie -- was suffering from a rare blood disease, and I was the expert in the field. Nothing contagious -- you have nothing to fear, Mr. Lovejoy-- but chronic and sadly incurable. We had made significant progress --

DET: You'd found a cure?

GP: Alas, no. Not a cure. But we'd had indications -- strong indications -- that we'd found a way to manage the disease, to give it's sufferers something like a normal life. Of course, Heather-- that is, Miss Flynn -- couldn't stay with us. A minor tragedy; we had high hopes of retarding the disease in its early stages.

DET: Doctor--

It was at this point that one of our informants spoke up, seemingly unable or unwilling to wait any longer.

Informant: Say, you've got some queer eyes.

GP: Yes, it's one of the minor side effects of the disease, I'm afraid.

DET: You mean--

GP: I, too, suffer from the same disease as Miss Flynn, yes.

Our informant turned to one of his co-conspirators, and exclaimed that the doctor had the same eyes as "one of them kids." Dr. Parkhurst was suddenly, sharply interested; he fairly vibrated with a fury but barely restrained.

GP: What kids?

Informant: I told you they was bad news. I knew we shouldn't have gotten involved with those ********.

GP: What kids?

Informant: We were making a run for the Purple Gang, a slick and easy little trip across the border, no harm to anyone, only this time there was some weird crates mixed in with the rye, almost like coffins. It didn't set well with me, so I says to my boy here, I says, we'd better take a look in them crates. And when we crack them open, what do you think we find but two kids, like sleeping angels they were, out of their tiny minds on dope.

GP: What did you do with them?

A bare transcript does not do these words justice. There was a bottomless rage there that promised an ocean of blood; our informant visibly quailed.

Informant: Well what could we do? You don't run around on [Purple Gang leader, -ed.], not if you want to keep running around. We delivered them crates and didn't say word one. But it didn't set right with me, nossir.

Dr. Parkhurst fell silent for several minutes, then ended the interview. We did not hear from him again for several days, until the night of the raid on the farmhouse. Tomorrow: a brief history of the Institute Doctor Parkhurst founded only to abandon.

Published August 17, 1932