car.
During the fast drive to police headquarters, Terrell considered what he had to do. He walked briskly up the steps leading to the Detectives’ room where he found Beigler still issuing orders on the telephone.
“Okay, Joe,” he said as Beigler hung up. “You get up there. You’re sure it is Paul Forrester?”
“Dr. Hertz said so . . . he must know.”
“Okay, get off. I’ll be along later,” and Terrell took over Beigler’s desk. As Beigler left the room, Terrell picked up the telephone receiver. “Charlie, get me Roger Williams.” A minute later, a man’s voice said sleepily. “This is Williams . . . what the heck is it?”
This is Captain Terrell. Paul Forrester has broken out and is on the run.”
Terrell heard a quick intake of breath. Then Williams, who was the Federal Agent in Greater Miami, now suddenly very alert, said, “What action have you taken?”
“Road blocks. My men are at the asylum now. We’ll need help. This only broke half an hour ago. I’m getting every man we have out of bed, but we’ll want more. The C.I.A. must be told . . . Washington too. Can I leave all that to you?”
“I’ll handle it,” Williams said. Unless he steals a car, he can’t get far.”
“We haven’t a description of him. Will you get one on the wire? I’m going up to the asylum now. You can contact me there.”
“Okay,” Williams said and hung up.
Terrell turned to Jacoby.
“You stay here, Max. Handle all calls. Anything important get me on R/T.”
“Yes, sir,” Jacoby said and as Terrell left, he walked over to Beigler’s desk and sat down.
He looked at the wall clock. The time was fifteen minutes after five a.m. He had a depressing feeling that his bed was miles out of reach.
Dr. Max Hertz was endeavouring to keep calm. He sat behind his desk, a cup of black coffee close at hand, a cigarette burning a little feverishly between his lips. He was wearing a sky blue dressing-gown over white and blue piped pyjamas. His thinning hair was ruffled. He was certainly not looking his best.
“This has never happened before,” he was saying to Terrell who sat opposite him. “This is a great shock. My sanatorium is the best there is. I don’t have to tell you that. We have only the most important people here as patients. I have been in charge now for more than fifteen years. Not one patient has ever escaped . . . or attempted to escape.”
Terrell shifted restlessly.
“Well, one has,” he said. “We have to find him. Just how did he escape?”
Dr. Hertz sipped his coffee, then put down the cup.
“I can only assume Lewis was careless. I don’t like to say this because he and all my staff have been hand-picked and more than trustworthy, but this seems to be the only possible explanation. We have strict security rules. At night, there are always two male nurses on duty on each floor. One of them sleeps, the other has a desk at the head of the stairs where he can watch every door to our patients’ rooms, If the patient rings, the rule is that the nurse on duty must alert the nurse sleeping before he goes to the patient’s room. These unfortunate people we have here are mostly dangerous. I suspect that Lewis failed to follow my rules. Forrester rang for him and instead of disturbing Mason, who works the night shift with Lewis, Lewis foolishly went to Forrester’s room alone. When I say foolishly, perhaps that is being harsh, for Forrester has shown no signs of violence. He has been the ideal patient, so, I suppose, Lewis felt justified in not disturbing Mason. I suppose when Lewis entered the room, he was attacked. Forrester then got the master key from Lewis, opened the front door and the door of the outside gate.”
Beigler put his head around the door.
“Excuse me, Chief . . .”
Terrell got to his feet.
“Okay, doctor, you can leave all this to us. There’s just one thing . . . please don’t talk to the press. Washington is coming into the picture and this could be a
During the fast drive to police headquarters, Terrell considered what he had to do. He walked briskly up the steps leading to the Detectives’ room where he found Beigler still issuing orders on the telephone.
“Okay, Joe,” he said as Beigler hung up. “You get up there. You’re sure it is Paul Forrester?”
“Dr. Hertz said so . . . he must know.”
“Okay, get off. I’ll be along later,” and Terrell took over Beigler’s desk. As Beigler left the room, Terrell picked up the telephone receiver. “Charlie, get me Roger Williams.” A minute later, a man’s voice said sleepily. “This is Williams . . . what the heck is it?”
This is Captain Terrell. Paul Forrester has broken out and is on the run.”
Terrell heard a quick intake of breath. Then Williams, who was the Federal Agent in Greater Miami, now suddenly very alert, said, “What action have you taken?”
“Road blocks. My men are at the asylum now. We’ll need help. This only broke half an hour ago. I’m getting every man we have out of bed, but we’ll want more. The C.I.A. must be told . . . Washington too. Can I leave all that to you?”
“I’ll handle it,” Williams said. Unless he steals a car, he can’t get far.”
“We haven’t a description of him. Will you get one on the wire? I’m going up to the asylum now. You can contact me there.”
“Okay,” Williams said and hung up.
Terrell turned to Jacoby.
“You stay here, Max. Handle all calls. Anything important get me on R/T.”
“Yes, sir,” Jacoby said and as Terrell left, he walked over to Beigler’s desk and sat down.
He looked at the wall clock. The time was fifteen minutes after five a.m. He had a depressing feeling that his bed was miles out of reach.
Dr. Max Hertz was endeavouring to keep calm. He sat behind his desk, a cup of black coffee close at hand, a cigarette burning a little feverishly between his lips. He was wearing a sky blue dressing-gown over white and blue piped pyjamas. His thinning hair was ruffled. He was certainly not looking his best.
“This has never happened before,” he was saying to Terrell who sat opposite him. “This is a great shock. My sanatorium is the best there is. I don’t have to tell you that. We have only the most important people here as patients. I have been in charge now for more than fifteen years. Not one patient has ever escaped . . . or attempted to escape.”
Terrell shifted restlessly.
“Well, one has,” he said. “We have to find him. Just how did he escape?”
Dr. Hertz sipped his coffee, then put down the cup.
“I can only assume Lewis was careless. I don’t like to say this because he and all my staff have been hand-picked and more than trustworthy, but this seems to be the only possible explanation. We have strict security rules. At night, there are always two male nurses on duty on each floor. One of them sleeps, the other has a desk at the head of the stairs where he can watch every door to our patients’ rooms, If the patient rings, the rule is that the nurse on duty must alert the nurse sleeping before he goes to the patient’s room. These unfortunate people we have here are mostly dangerous. I suspect that Lewis failed to follow my rules. Forrester rang for him and instead of disturbing Mason, who works the night shift with Lewis, Lewis foolishly went to Forrester’s room alone. When I say foolishly, perhaps that is being harsh, for Forrester has shown no signs of violence. He has been the ideal patient, so, I suppose, Lewis felt justified in not disturbing Mason. I suppose when Lewis entered the room, he was attacked. Forrester then got the master key from Lewis, opened the front door and the door of the outside gate.”
Beigler put his head around the door.
“Excuse me, Chief . . .”
Terrell got to his feet.
“Okay, doctor, you can leave all this to us. There’s just one thing . . . please don’t talk to the press. Washington is coming into the picture and this could be a
Similar Books
