"I didn't put him into a catatonic state, Slycke; I brought him out of the first one."
"And what we're seeing now may be the price your brother is paying for your interference. The first priority now is to stabilize his physical condition. Then we're going to have to begin all over again with a therapy program. I'm responsible for this man's health, and in my judgment he must be treated in a strictly controlled environment, without any distractions or outside influences."
"You have no right to cancel my badge," I said in a trembling voice, fighting against a sudden wave of nausea that made me want to gag. I was thoroughly frightened.
"On the contrary," the psychiatrist replied tightly. "This is strictly a clinical decision, Frederickson, not a personal or political one. When you call Mr. Lippitt, as I'm sure you'll do the moment you leave here, he'll tell you that I've acted within my authority, which takes precedence in all medical matters. I'm not barring you as an administrator; I'm barring you as a physician."
There was something in the other man's voice that just didn't ring true to me. Struggling to contain my fury against Slycke, and my piercing anxiety over Garth, I clenched my fists and glared at the psychiatrist. Slycke refused to meet my gaze. Despite the fact that it was a cool morning, he was sweating through his lab coat.
"My God, you're lying," I breathed. "You son-of-a-bitch, you're lying!"
Now Slycke glanced at me; I could see the confirmation in his eyes. . along with not a little fear of his own. He tried-too late-to cover his reaction by spluttering, "That's preposterous!"
"Prove it to me! I don't want the badge back! Just let me see my brother for five minutes so that I'll know you're telling the truth!"
"How dare you call me a liar!"
"You listen to me, Slycke," I intoned in a voice I hoped was sufficiently threatening to bring him up short the way he had brought me up short. "I don't know what games you're playing upstairs, but you're not going to use my brother for them. I don't need to call Mr. Lippitt-at least not until I'm ready to level some pretty heavy accusations against you. My brother wasn't committed here by any court; he was admitted on a voluntary basis, and I was the one who signed the papers. That means I can get him out seventy-two hours after filing official notice that I want him out. When I walk away from here, the first call I make will be to my lawyer. RPC, under whose aegis you operate, will have my official request for Garth's release on file before noon. In three days, exactly at the appointed hour, a private ambulance is going to pull right up to the entrance to this building. Then, no matter what shape my brother is in, he's coming out of there. You got that, pal?"
Slycke's face had gone pale, and the dark pouches beneath his eyes began to quiver. "I wouldn't do that, Frederickson."
"Let me go up to see him!"
"I. . can't."
Struggling to keep my voice and emotions under control, I took a deep breath, slowly let it out. "Then there's something you should know, Slycke, and I'm saying it in front of these witnesses so that you will most definitely take it as a threat. If anything happens to my brother before that private ambulance can take him away-if he's in any kind of damaged state which I even suspect could have been caused by your games-I am going to take it very personally. You were worried about me spying for Lippitt when I wasn't; now you're just likely to have cause to worry. If I don't like what I find when I see Garth, if I think there's been any monkey business with his head or body that I think you're responsible for, then I'm going to start spying on you with a persistence you won't believe. If I ever start digging, Slycke, then your personal life and your stewardship of this clinic had better be purer than the Virgin Mary. If you don't want to find yourself up to your ass in alligators, you make damn sure Garth Frederickson is in good shape when I pick him up in three days."
And then I turned on my heel and stalked away. When I was certain I was out of sight, I ducked behind some bushes and threw up.
By the end of the day I had. filed official notice that I wanted my brother released from the clinic within seventy-two hours. I'd also made arrangements for a private ambulance to transport him, and booked a room in a private sanitarium in New York just in case Garth really was out of it when I got him back.
Then there was nothing more to do but wait-which I didn't like at all. I tried to call Lippitt, just to keep him informed, but he wasn't in his office. By using "Valhalla" as a password, I could have been put in touch with him, no matter where he was, almost immediately, but I did not choose to use this emergency procedure. There wasn't an emergency-yet. I felt I owed him the courtesy of telling him I was removing Garth from the clinic, and why, but I wasn't yet ready to push any panic buttons. I left a message asking him to call me, at his convenience.
Everything that could be done had been done, I thought. And so I continued to wait.
I no longer had access to the secret clinic, but I still had my apartment on the grounds of the hospital complex, and that's where I waited after filing notice that I intended to take my brother home. Slycke called me early in the evening of the second day.
"Frederickson, this is Charles Slycke." He sounded out of breath, as if he'd been running.
"I know who it is," I replied curtly. "Is my brother all right?"
"I must speak with you."
"I asked you about my brother!"
"He's … all right," Slycke said with what I considered rather ominous hesitation.
"He damn well better be."
"I must speak to you, Frederickson. Alone."
"Come on over. You know where I am."
"No. I must meet you here. There's something I have to show you."
"What?"
"Not over the phone."
"I'm on the way."
"No!" Slycke said quickly. There was a lengthy pause, during which I could hear the psychiatrist breathing heavily. Finally he continued, "There are too many people around now. Tonight there won't be so many, and I can arrange to keep the night staff busy elsewhere. Will you come to my office at eleven?"
"You took my badge, remember? I've still got my keys, but I can't get in the building without the electromagnetic strip on that badge."
"All right, I'll come down and let you in at eleven."
"Why do we have to meet in your office at eleven? Why can't we meet someplace else right now? For that matter, why can't you tell me what's on your mind over the phone?"
"I just can't speak over the phone about this, and I can't remove what I want to show you from the building. You have to come here; eleven o'clock. We won't be disturbed at that time."
"Put my brother on the phone."
"I can't do that, Frederickson." "Why not?"
"It would look suspicious."
"To whom?"
"Not over the phone, Frederickson."
"But he is awake."
"Yes. . he's awake."
"All right, Slycke. I'll see you at eleven."
"And you'll come alone?"
"I'll come alone."
Slycke hung up. I pressed down the receiver bar, released it, and got a dial tone. I called Veil, grimaced with frustration when his telephone answering machine came on. I was starting to leave a message that I needed to speak to him as soon as possible when there was a click and he came on the line.
"Hi, Mongo. I was painting, and I didn't want to be bothered by some idiot trying to sell me something."
"Sorry for the interruption, Veil."
"You're never an interruption. What's up?"
"I could use some help tonight. Can I pick you up?"
"No. I can get hold of a car and save you the trip into the city. What's the problem?"
Quickly, I filled Veil in on what had been happening with Garth, my banning from the clinic, my filing of the seventy-two-hour notice, and Slycke's phone call.