by Sara Donati
55
NEW YORK TRIBUNE
EDITORIAL
In January we reported on the custody case of innocent and vulnerable children caught up in an age-old religious conflict. At the insistence of representatives of the Roman Catholic Church, Rosa, Tonino, and Lia, orphans of Italian silk factory workers, were taken from the custody of the devoted if unorthodox Mezzanotte-Savard family. Judge Sutherland did not return the children to the Foundling, as the Church requested; instead, guardianship was transferred to a different, Catholic branch of the Mezzanotte family in New Jersey.
Just four months later the three children returned to the city when Tonino Russo, age nine, was diagnosed with advanced cancer of the lymphatic system. To ensure that he received the best possible treatment, Tonino was installed in the private home of Dr. Sophie Savard Verhoeven on Stuyvesant Square. There he was attended by Dr. Abraham Jacobi, the Savard family physicians, numerous family members, and private-duty nurses. Everything possible was done for him, but the end came quickly. His sisters and many of the Mezzanotte and Savard family members were by his side when he left this world.
In an apparent attempt to add insult to injury, Andrew Falcone, an attorney for the Catholic archdiocese, petitioned Judge Sutherland to investigate a possible violation of the custody arrangements he signed in January. Justice Sutherland found no cause and declined to pursue this matter.
Yesterday Tonino was laid to rest in the Mezzanotte family plot in Greenwood, New Jersey. Despite the distance required to attend, a large crowd of reporters and the curious imposed on what should have been a solemn and private affair.
The death of a child is not an occasion for mobs, sensationalism, rumormongering, and opportunism. It pains us to observe that the residents of this city are not so civilized as we would like to believe.
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• • •
NEWS OF THE WORLD
ORPHAN DIES IN THE STUYVESANT SQUARE HOME OF DISCREDITED DOCTRESS
OUR READERS will recall that in early January Judge Sutherland ordered that three Italian orphans be removed from the household and custody of Det. Sergeant Jack Mezzanotte, a half Jew, and his wife, Dr. Anna Savard, an avowed atheist. The Catholic Church asked that the children be returned to the Foundling to be raised in their parents’ faith. Instead, Judge Sutherland transferred custody to Catholic relatives of the Mezzanottes in New Jersey.
In late April the three Russo orphans were removed from the family in New Jersey and brought back to Manhattan in violation of Judge Sutherland’s ruling. The orphans were passed into the custody of Dr. Sophie Savard Verhoeven without judicial review or approval. Dr. Savard is the mulatto doctress whose credibility as a physician was severely damaged last year after the suspicious death of a patient.
Antonio Russo, age nine, was committed to the custody of this lady doctor to be treated for cancer. The boy survived less than a month in her care.
According to the Department of Health, there was no autopsy nor has there been any official death certificate or cause of death made available to the press. The police department will not say if an investigation has been opened into what many find to be a suspicious death. Judge Sutherland has been made aware of the violation of his orders, but he has yet to take action.
The fate of the dead boy’s sisters is also uncertain. Whether they will return to New Jersey as required by law or remain in the Savard Verhoeven household is another question still to be answered.
* * *
• • •
NEW YORK PEDIATRIC MEDICAL JOURNAL
MALIGNANT LYMPHOMA
I report the death of a boy, age nine, from cancer of the lymphatic system. Symptoms began two months previous with sore throat, lethargy, weight loss. Enlargement of the cervical glands first noted four weeks prior to death. This case is notable for its very rapid progression. Macroscopic examination on autopsy revealed numerous large and distinct nodes occluding both trachea and larynx, enlarged nodes in all six of the axillary node groups bilaterally, a spleen twice the normal size, and enlarged nodes throughout the abdomen. Hilar and mediastinal lymph nodes were also enlarged. Given the insistence on the part of some colleagues to classify Hodgkin’s disease as another manifestation of the tubercle bacillus, microscopic examination of tissue taken from major node groups was done in accordance with methods developed by Dr. Koch and Dr. Ehrlich. None of the slides revealed any sign of bacilli and thus this case is submitted as further evidence that lymphoma is neoplastic in nature.
Abraham Jacobi, MD
* * *
• • •
S. E. SAVARD VERHOEVEN
243 SEVENTEENTH STREET
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
Friday, May 23, 1884
Misses Rosa and Lia Russo
Mezzanotte Farm
Greenwood, New Jersey
Dear Rosa and Lia
I want you to know that everyone here at Doves, Roses, and Weeds is thinking of you in this very sad time. We mourn Tonino, and we miss you terribly. You must know that I spend a good part of every day thinking about your Uncle Cap. Now I’ll think of him with Tonino, the two of them taking walks while they have long talks about bees and cows and the color of the sky and the people they miss. Because I see them as content and healthy, and still I know that they miss us as much as we miss them. That’s a good thing to know, and to hold close.
Just before we left for the ferry you came to me together and asked if it would be possible to come live at Doves permanently. This is, of course, a complicated question and so I have discussed it with everyone here and with the Mezzanottes. I have thought of little else, to be truthful. Now I will try to answer honestly and completely.
First, and most important: you are as dear to me as any blood kin, and you are always welcome in my home. I want to explore this possibility of you coming to live here, but it must be discussed openly and honestly with everyone who has a part to play, so that no one feels slighted or disregarded or unappreciated.
I see two distinct issues.
First, is such a move the best thing for you two, both in the short and long term? You need to ask yourselves why would you want to be here, and not in Greenwood. How would your lives be different? What advantages and disadvantages might come of such a change? What would it mean to the people around you?
These are questions for you to think about carefully, to discuss together and with everyone there at Greenwood and with us here in the city. Such a decision is not to be rushed, and certainly it is not one to make when the loss of Tonino is so new and raw for all of us.
The second question has to do with the law. A permanent change would require that we go back to court so that I may petition for guardianship and custody. I had a brief conversation with Leo and Carmela, who are willing to consider this. Their willingness to appear before the court would be necessary to proceed.
Uncle Conrad says that while he will take the case before the court, there is no guarantee that the judge who is assigned to the case will be as fair-minded as Judge Sutherland proved to be. He will do his best, but he cannot predict the outcome.
Such a court case is a sensitive matter for reasons you probably have not considered. Everyone here agrees that you need to understand that it would be impossible to keep a case like this one out of the newspapers, and that many or most of the reporters will be cruel. Things will be printed that you will find painful and insulting. We must trust that the court will come to a decision independent of newspaper reports and public opinion, but we cannot be sure of it.
In the end my petition for guardianship and custody might be refused for reasons that don’t make sense to you, but you should be aware of them: I am not married; I am not a practicing Roman Catholic; I have a career outside the home; I am of mixed race, and you are not. My ancestors were African and Indian and European; yours are European. Whet
her or not this seems right to you, the courts may reject my petition on that basis.
Now this is a lot for you to think about, I know. As a first step it would be best if you would share this letter with Leo and Carmela, Nonno and Nonna, and anyone else at Greenwood whose opinions you value.
Whatever the outcome, I want you to know that I love you both dearly whether you are with me or not. I plan to help you in every way I can as you grow into the strong, caring, independent, self-confident young women I know you will be. At this moment do not forget that I am just across the river, after all. Just a ferry ride away.
Your devoted aunt and friend of the heart
Sophie
56
ON THE WAY home from Greenwood, standing at the rail on the Hoboken ferry, Anna finally had time and the presence of mind she needed to tell Jack about her visit to Dr. Channing. If she could only get started.
He said, “Can you take another day off? You need more sleep than you’re getting.”
She had to smile at this. “More sleep would be good, but no, I can’t take tomorrow off. And neither can you, despite the dark circles under your eyes.”
Neither of them had been able to sleep very long or very deeply over the past three days. In her misery Rosa had gravitated to Sophie, but Lia stuck to Anna and Jack like a burr. Her small pale face was always there, streaked with tears even when she was trying to smile, the eyes wide as she asked her questions, most of them impossible to answer.
Where, she wanted to know, was her mama buried? Why had they not been there when she was put in the ground? Could they go see her grave? Could they visit her grave and Papa’s grave, to tell them about Tonino, or would they already know? Where were all Tonino’s dreams? Were they still inside his head, stuck there? If the priests and nuns were right and Tonino was in heaven with Mama and Papa (a question she asked when Rosa was out of earshot, because talk of priests might be enough to get her talking again, but in a way that would not be pleasant) would he dream of his sisters? Would he talk in heaven? Would he be sorry in heaven that he had never talked to them while he was alive?
Even when she slept, Lia’s questions held Anna captive. She lay awake staring into the dark, her mind racing back and forth. Lia and Rosa and Tonino, his head full of unrealized dreams. Nora Smithson. Nicola Visser. Three slashes with a dirty scalpel. Lia, Rosa, Tonino.
And her own brother. She realized now what she should have seen before: the girls had lost a brother, as she herself had lost her brother when she was about Lia’s age. Her brother had promised to never leave her, and then he had gone off to war and left her anyway.
The truth was, Anna remembered very little about the days after Paul died, and wondered now if she had been as Rosa was, cocooned in silence, or if she had erupted with questions as Lia was doing. It seemed important now to remember how she had felt, whether she had turned inward, or if she had wanted answers to impossible questions.
Just after the burial, while they were sitting at lunch with all the Mezzanottes around, she had wanted to ask her Aunt Quinlan about the single day when Paul and Uncle Quinlan had been laid out in their coffins in the parlor. High summer in the city meant a short wake, and so the house must have been overflowing with mourners. She could remember none of it.
But it was not the time to ask such questions. This was not about her or even about Tonino, but about two little girls who had lost mother, father, and two brothers in the span of twelve months.
“Maybe it’s best for both of us to get back to work,” Anna said now to Jack. “What better distraction?”
She glanced up at him and saw that his thoughts were far away.
“Jack?”
He blinked as if to clear his eyes of sleep. “Sorry. My mind wandered. You think it’s good that we have to go back to work.”
“I do,” Anna said. “And there’s something I have to tell you about Dr. Channing. About visiting him, the morning Tonino died. You remember the name, don’t you? Dr. Channing. Amelie sent Nora Smithson to him?”
His expression cleared. “Now I remember, yes. You went to see him.”
Anna said, “Pay attention, Mezzanotte. This will be distraction enough for both of us.”
By the time she had finished telling him the essentials, they were in line to get off the ferry. Jack said, “Let’s get out of this crowd and you can tell me again, because I’m sure I must have misunderstood you.”
* * *
• • •
THEY WALKED TOWARD home, stopping to sit on a favorite bench under the old English elm at the northwest corner of Washington Square Park.
“Let me see if I understood you correctly,” he said. “There are two people who can testify that Nora Smithson attacked her grandfather by slashing his hand with a dirty scalpel. Three times.”
Anna nodded. “They knew both her grandparents, quite well. The nurse I think knows more than she said about the family.”
Jack’s gaze was sharp on her face. “What are you saying?”
She took a moment to collect her thoughts, and then responded with a question of her own. “Why has no one asked about the father of Nora’s child? Did Amelie know?”
The question took him by surprise. “I didn’t ask her. Should I have?”
“I think the question is relevant.”
He stared into the park for a moment, thinking. “You have an idea.”
“I suppose I do.” It took her a moment to go on.
“Ever since Sophie told me about the examination and the things Nora said, I’ve had this idea nagging at me, just out of reach. Then Dr. Channing—” She broke off, and started again. “You know what the most powerful emotion is? Anger. Anger can move mountains. Anger tamped down is more powerful than any volcano. And Nora Smithson is angry. She’s built out of anger. Would you agree?”
Jack inclined his head. “She keeps a tight grip on it most of the time, but yes. We saw it slipping.”
“Where did that anger come from?” Anna asked. “She lost her parents as a young girl, but she never had to fend for herself. Her grandparents gave her a home. Maybe it wasn’t a joyful place to be, but she was fed and clothed, and it seems as though her grandmother was loving. It was when the grandmother died that things began to go wrong for her.”
“You’re still not saying what you’re thinking.”
She nodded. “It’s not easy to say. I’ve seen too many cases to deny the possibility, but it still just goes against the grain.”
“Cases of?”
Anna drew a deep breath and let it go. “Incest.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “I wondered if you’d come to that conclusion.”
It was her turn to be surprised. “You were thinking—”
“We considered it,” Jack told her. “Oscar raised the possibility soon after we read the day-book pages, but we left it at that. Short of a statement from Nora herself, it seemed something that could only be guessed at.”
Anna suddenly was very tired. The terrible sorrow of losing Tonino, her guilt about coming too late, the constant need to provide the comfort the girls needed, and now this open acknowledgment that Nora Smithson had been a victim of her grandfather’s mania. She had been terribly used, a young girl with nowhere else to turn, by the one adult who had power over her. If what Anna suspected was true, then she must believe that Nora Smithson was insane, but it was insanity born of horrific circumstances.
“Do you see such cases often?” she asked Jack.
“Once is enough,” he said. “Once is too often. But I’ve seen six or seven certain cases since I joined the force. Another ten or so where I had suspicions but no proof. Mostly in motherless households where a daughter—”
She held up her hand to stop him. “I’ve seen those cases too. When I was an intern I assisted at a home delivery. A family of four young boys, and one daughter, t
he eldest. She was all of fifteen years and pregnant for what we were told was the second time. The mother was there, a little mouse of a woman, wouldn’t meet anybody’s eye, wouldn’t stay in the room. Sent in one of the younger children to bring whatever we asked for. But the father sat by the girl’s side all through her labor and wouldn’t leave. The whole time he was whispering in her ear. It was a difficult delivery and a frightening one. I still think about it.
“The baby was stillborn. When he heard that, the father smiled. He really smiled, obviously relieved. Then he got up and left the room without another word to anyone.
“Later when Dr. Marshall was making notes about the delivery I asked her what the girl’s father had been saying to her. She gave me the strangest look, as if I had asked her something patently obvious.”
“And what was it he had been saying?” Jack asked.
Anna shrugged. “Threats. He was filling her head with threats and insults. What it would mean if she didn’t hold her tongue. I didn’t understand, but later I asked Aunt Quinlan and she explained to me—” She shook her head. “It made me sick to my stomach to realize what that young girl had been suffering. And would probably continue to suffer. And now the thought of Cameron using his granddaughter, I could scream.”
Jack took her hand between two of his own and cradled it. “It would make anybody with half a heart and any sense of right and wrong sick. If it would do any good I’d go dig Cameron up and shoot him in the head.”
They were quiet as people passed. A man leaning on a cane, his back bent by age. Barefoot children caught up in some game. Two young mothers pushing carriages, and behind them a nurse-maid, holding a little boy by the hand. No more than a toddler, still unsteady on his feet, but crowing with self-satisfaction at every step. His nurse laughed with him and he looked up at her with such a smile, it made Anna’s own heart clench.
