LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

on his shoulder, holding him with one arm. When he moved back into the hallway, he did so without once banging the one hundred and fifty pound dead weight on his shoulder against the door jam.

      The hall was empty. He closed the door, glanced down at the luminous dial of his watch, took the pistol in his left hand, and moved along the hallway toward the rear of the complex.

      Considering the weight, he moved rapidly. He headed for the fourth building. He reached it without seeing anyone until he got to the entrance.

      The door had a double glass panel with steel mesh woven between the panes. Beyond it a large man in the uniform of an attendant, sat in a comfortable chair about twenty feet down the hallway.

      Even sitting, the man was massive. The intruder stepped back away from the door and quietly put his burden down. He relaxed his body. There might be action. He went back to the door.

      He transferred the pistol to his right hand. The door didn't have a knob, just a brass handle and a metal kick plate at the bottom. He pulled on it with a steady pressure. It stuck, so he jerked it open and stepped swiftly into the hallway. He moved directly toward the seated figure.

      The man looked up, his expression not alarmed, more curious. He hadn't seen the pistol held by the intruder's side.

      His lips were just forming the word, "who..." when the second dart caught him in the neck just below the ear.

      He started to pull it out when his whole body went limp and he slid out of the chair to the floor.

      The intruder waited, then stepped forward to the unmoving body and dragged it into a small cubicle, inside of which were a chair and a small desk. Above the desk was a board with a ring of keys, several notices and a clipboard.

      He lifted the heavy man awkwardly into the chair and arranged the body so that the man's head rested on his arms as though asleep. He took the ring of keys.

      The intruder went back for the body of the older man and brought it inside the building. Further down the hallway a gurney had been left to one side, and he carefully put the limp body on it, and then set off toward the end of the hall. Near the end he turned left through a pair of swinging doors marked 'Treatment', and passed through another room which contained a dozen unoccupied beds.

      Beyond this area was a small room equipped like an operating theater. The smells made the intruder nauseous. He ignored them; he knew the source.

      He lifted the man off the gurney onto the operating table, then quickly stripped him to his shorts, strapped him to the table and inserted a rubber bit between his teeth. He taped it in place. He didn't want it to come out during the treatment.

      The eyes of the man on the table began to flicker. The amount of drug in the dart had been carefully measured. His head swung from side to side and finally his eyes opened all the way. For a moment he remained absolutely still; then he surged up against the restraints with all his might. It did no good: Stronger men and women than he had tried to escape their inquisitors without success.

      The intruder laid his hand on the man's shoulder and spoke to him calmly, softly. His voice was surprisingly free of emotion.

      "Do not struggle, Doctor Malinowski. You, more than anyone, should know how futile it is. Just relax; this won't take long at all. I'm going to ask you a few questions. Just nod your head yes or no."

      The doctor's eyes were wild, filled with terror. Still he struggled desperately.

      The intruder slapped the doctor Malinowski face once, briskly. "Be quiet, Doctor. What do you fear? Have you done something for which you should be punished? Surely not? You're a health care professional, devoted to the gentle counsel of those whose minds have been hurt. You have given your life to the study of mental illness. What possible crime could you be guilty of? I have a few simple questions for you, and then this little play will be over."

      The doctor's struggles subsided, not from any lessening of fear; he had run out of strength.

      "That's better; I'm on a bit of a time schedule. First question, did you treat a patient, Mrs. Harriett Johannsen Piers?"

      The doctor renewed his struggles and made no sign for yes or no.

      "Okay, have it your way."

      The intruder moved silently to one side of the room and rolled a piece of electrical apparatus toward the side of the table. It was an older machine, black with a crackle finish.

      He moved it beside the operating table, next to the doctor's head, and flicked the 'on' switch. The machine came on with a low hum. The doctor strained so hard his scrawny muscles stood out like strands of rope, and his face turned purple with effort.

      The intruder slapped him again, hard enough that the crack rang through the small room.

      "Settle down, Doctor. Must I use drugs? I would rather not, without your permission. You know how that works."

      The doctor stopped struggling, but terror never left his eyes.

      "Are you ready to answer my questions?"

      The Doctor nodded his head, affirmatively.

      "Do you remember the last question? No? Again, did you treat a patient, Mrs. Harriett Johannsen Piers?"

      The man on the table nodded, yes.

      "Good, good. Now we're getting somewhere. I'm going to name some of the staff. If any were present or assisted in Mrs. Piers' treatment, just nod your head, please."

      The intruder listed eight staff members by name and the doctor nodded his head after three of the names: One woman, a staff nurse, a nurse intern and an attendant.

      "Thank you, Doctor, you've been helpful. I have read the records carefully and I'm curious. Why, I wondered, was it considered the best procedure to deliver ECT to a woman with a heart condition, particularly unmodified? How could anyone think it necessary to give ECT to an old woman, who at the worst was mildly eccentric? In fact, how could anyone try to electrocute a person and call it therapy? But that is a question that can never be answered here.”

      There was a long pause as the intruder reached toward the black machine with crackle finish. He did so with all the willingness of a man approaching a rattlesnake.

      "I have asked myself that question for weeks, twenty four hours a day. Yes, even in my sleep I ask that question. I have spent a lot of time reading about your profession, trying to understand."

      The intruder looked around the room in stark disbelief. "When people first heard of the Nazi death camps they could not comprehend such monstrous inhumanity.

      "This was a woman at the top of her profession, respected by men of all political persuasions as the best financial analyst of government organizations in the United States. Idiosyncratic? A little perhaps. Violent, never: Mad...no, never that.

      "So, as you can see, I ask myself why, and still no answer. If I thought you could provide me with an answer I would have taken you elsewhere, someplace where I could hear your answers, but as you have already deduced, I am not really interested in your explanations. All I want to know is were you the one who tortured and murdered Mrs. Piers."

      The doctor's eyes opened and closed rapidly. His face was the pale, translucent color of the dead. In his fear he lost control the muscles of his bladder and urinated uncontrollably.

      The intruder stood by the table for several minutes, unmoving.

      "Doctor Malinowski, it is obvious to me that you don't believe in the spirit that is man. One might not think so, but I do." He spoke with quiet conviction.

      "Because I do believe, I hold you responsible, body and spirit. I hope in lives to come you will remember what you have done, and find a way to atone.

      "I have looked into the possibility of the law punishing you, and I find they are completely ignorant of your crimes. So, it has fallen to me to punish you. I don't relish it, but in your case, I won't regret it."

      The stench of feces filled the still air of the treatment room. The last barrier

Скачать книгу