"Goldman! Is that you, Goldman?"
Still only partially awake, he answered, "Yeah."
"This is Nancy Molineaux. Listen to me!”
"Nancy Molineaux, you idiot!" Anger fought its way through sleep. "Molineaux, don't you know it's the middle of the night . . . “,
"Shut up and listen! Goldman, get hold of yourself and come awake. You and your family are in danger. Trust me . . ."
Raising himself on an elbow, Nim said, "I wouldn't trust you then he remembered what she had written yesterday, and stopped.
"Goldman, get your family out of that hotel! Now! Don't stop for anything! Bombs are going off."
Now he was wide-awake. "Is this some sick joke? Because if it is.
"It's no joke." there was pleading in Nancy's voice. "Ob, for Chrissakes, believe me! Those Friends of Freedom bastards have planted bombs disguised as fire extinguishers. Get your wife and kids . . ."
The words "Friends of Freedom" convinced him. Then he remembered the hotel, jammed with conventioneers.
"What about other people?"
“The alarm's gone out. You get moving!"
"Right!"
"I'll see you outside the hotel," Nancy said, but Nim hadn't beard. Instead he had slammed down the phone and was fiercely shaking Ruth.
Only minutes later, with the children crying, sleepily bewildered, and still in nightclothes, Nim rushed them from the suite. Ruth was right behind. Nim headed for the emergency stairs, knowing enough to stay away from elevators in a crisis in case they failed and occupants were trapped. As they began the long journey down twenty-six flights, he could hear the sound of sirens from outside, faint at first, then growing louder.
They were three floors down when fire alarm bells throughout the hotel began ringing stridently.
* * *
There were acts of gallantry and heroism that night. Some passed unnoticed, others were conspicuous.
Evacuation of the hotel proceeded swiftly and, for the most part, calmly. Police and firemen moved promptly onto every floor; they thumped on doors, shouted, brushed aside questions with commands, hurried people toward stairwells, cautioning them not to use elevators. Others from the emergency force, assisted by hotel staff, used passkeys to check rooms from which there had been no response. Through it all, the fire alarm bells continued ringing.
A few guests protested and argued, a handful was belligerent but, when threatened with arrest, even they joined the outward exodus. Few, if any, of the hotel guests knew exactly what was happening; they accepted the imminence of danger and moved fast, pulling on a minimum of clothing, abandoning belongings in their rooms. One man, obeying orders sleepily, got as far as the stairway door on his floor before realizing he was naked. A grinning fireman let him go back to put on pants and a shirt.
The evacuation was already in progress when the police bomb squad arrived in three trucks, tires and sirens screaming. The bomb men poured into the hotel and, working swiftly but carefully, checked every fire extinguisher in sight. Those which were suspect had ropes looped over them, after which-paying out rope as they went-the bomb men retreated around corners, getting as far away as was practical. When someone had made sure the immediate area was clear of people, the ropes were tugged. This jogged the extinguishers and toppled themnormally enough movement to set off any booby traps. However, there were no explosions and, after each extinguisher was dealt with, a bomb man lifted it and carried it outside. That represented the greatest risk of all, but was accepted because of the special circumstances.
From the street in front of the hotel, the extinguisher bombs were rushed, by a hastily assembled fleet of trucks, to a disused waterfront pier where they were dumped into the bay.
Soon after deployment of the police bomb squad, they were joined by an Army ordnance unit of a half-dozen officers and NCOs-bomb experts who helped speed the removal process.
Twenty minutes after the alarm was given, it became evident to those in charge that evacuation was going well, and faster than expected. The chances of having most guests out of the hotel before 3 am looked good.
By now, every street leading to the Christopher Columbus was jam-packed with vehicles-fire equipment, police cars and wagons, ambulances, all with dome lights flashing. A huge van, operated by the city's Office of Emergency Services, had just moved in and was setting up an on-site command post. Two GSP&L heavy-duty service trucks were among recent arrivals, one crew standing by in case of power problems, the other disconnecting gas service at the street main.
Representatives of press, TV and radio were arriving in growing numbers, eagerly asking questions of anyone who might answer. Two local radio stations were broadcasting live from the scene. The news was already international; AP and UPI had flashed bulletins nationwide and overseas.
Among the press corps, Nancy Molineaux was the center of attention by a group composed of several police detectives, an FBI special agent, and a young Assistant District Attorney. (tle Assistant D.A. had been on the police operations center list.) Nancy answered as many questions as she could, but was evasive about the two cassette tapes which had already been collected from her as arranged. Under a stern near threat from the Assistant D.A., she promised they would be handed to him within the next two hours. One detective, following discussions between his superiors and the Assistant D.A., left the group to telephone two instructions: Raid the house at 117 Crocker Street. Arrest Georgos Archambault and Davey Birdsong.
Through it all, police and firemen continued to hasten evacuation of the hotel.
Inevitably, as the hotel emptied, there were casualties. An elderly woman tripped on the concrete emergency stairs and fell heavily, breaking her hip and wrist. An ambulance crew carried her away, moaning, on a stretcher. A New England power company official had a heart attack after descending twenty flights and died on the way to the hospital. Another woman fell and suffered a concussion. Several more had minor cuts and bruises resulting from haste and congestion on the stairs.
There appeared to be no panic. Strangers helped each other. Boorishness or had manners were almost nil. Some hardy spirits made jokes, helping others overcome their fear.
Once outside the hotel, evacuees were herded to a side street, two blocks away, where police cars had been parked to form a barricade. Fortunately, the night was mild and no one seemed to be suffering because of scanty clothing. After a while, a Red Cross van appeared and volunteer workers passed out coffee, doing what else they could to console people while they waited.
Nim Goldman and his family were among the early groups to reach the cordoned-off area. By then, Leah and Benjy were thoroughly awake, and now excited by what was happening. When he was satisfied that Ruth and the children were safe, and despite Ruth's protests, Nim returned to the hotel. Afterward he realized he was foolhardy in the extreme, but at the time was prompted by the general heady excitement and the remembrance of two things. One was Nancy Molineaux's hasty reference on the phone to "bombs disguised as fire extinguishers," the other, the young man who, only yesterday, had placed a fire extinguisher behind a lobby chair while Nim and Wally Talbot watched. Nim wanted to make sure, with many people still in the hoteclass="underline" Had that particular extinguisher been found?
By now it was close to 3 am.
Despite a stream of agitated guests emerging from the hotel's main entrance, Nim managed to force his way back in. Once inside the lobby, he tried to get the attention of a passing fireman, but the man brushed him aside with a "not now, buddy," and raced upstairs toward the mezzanine.