Authors: Sheldon Russell
“I've seen those men in the security ward stare at a bowl of soup until it was stone cold. No one under that much sedation could plan a crime, even if he weren't locked up.”
Hook sat in the phone booth for several minutes before he called Eddie at Division.
When Eddie came on, he said, “Preston here.”
“Eddie, about this asylum deal.”
“Runyon, I just got a call from the Barstow supply clerk.”
“The supply clerk?”
“He says you brought the company truck back in a goddang mess.”
“I don't know what you're talking about, Eddie.”
“He's says it was full of mud. You don't have enough Brownies yet?”
“Mud? This is Barstow, the Mojave for Christ's sake. Besides, you can't believe anything that a supply clerk tells you.”
“What does that mean?”
“I think he's been stealing supplies.”
“You got any evidence of that?”
“It's a feeling.”
“You got too much riding on this board hearing to be playing games, Runyon.”
“Listen, I think I've located some men for security.”
Eddie paused. “How many?”
“Four. It isn't enough, but this is not the best job in the world either.”
“Who?”
“Soldiers,” he said. “Vets. Heroes. These bastards are disciplined heroes.”
“Where did you find them?”
“They come highly recommended. I'll get the paperwork in so you can get them on the clock.”
“What does Baldwin have to say about it?”
“I'm headed out there this morning. He'll be damn glad to get these boys. How many times you get the chance to hire true American heroes?”
“This better be on the level, Runyon.”
Hook took a deep breath. Talking to Eddie was like going under for the third time.
“Did you locate a passenger train?” Hook asked. “Baldwin's got inmates scattered everywhere out there, and some of them are pretty scary characters.”
“We have a war going on, remember?” he said.
“Yeah, I heard that.”
“The section foreman out of Needles called,” Eddie said. “He says someone's popped the spikes on a length of track.”
“It's a maintenance problem, Eddie. The whole damn line is in need of repair. What the hell am I supposed to do about it?”
“Get back there and take a look. We can't take a chance on some nut sending a train airborne.”
“Jesus, I'm kind of busy out here.”
“And call if you find something.”
“Yeah, you're first on my list, Eddie.”
Hook walked down to the supply shack to get the truck and found the clerk in the back counting out lightbulbs. He looked up when Hook came in and then went back to his counting.
“Like to sign out the truck,” Hook said.
The clerk pushed the box back. “What the hell you been doing to my truck? The damn thing smelled like swamp mud.”
“No time to chat,” Hook said.
“I'm signing out no truck until I get an explanation.”
“Well, I am kind of rushed this morning, seeing as how I've got to get my report on supply finished up and sent in to Division.”
“What report?”
“My investigation.”
“On supply?”
“After that, I got to get out to the Baldwin Asylum. Seems like I never get caught up.”
“What supply report?”
“That sort of thing is confidential, but I will say this. The company disapproves of shoddy inventory. You know what I mean?”
The clerk stood. “Now look, Runyon, I run a tight shop here. Nothing goes out but what's signed for.”
“I understand you wouldn't do anything like that yourself, but you know how these other bastards are, carrying things home in their lunch pails.
“I caught a man stealing signal wire out of the Needles supply shack. Had the damn stuff rolled up under his shirt. What the hell could he have been thinking? He got a year in the slammer on that one.”
The clerk dug in his pocket for the truck key and handed it to Hook.
“I run a tight shop here, Runyon.”
“Yes, sir, so I've heard. I doubt I'll find a thing in a shop such as this.”
Hook had no sooner opened the door to the company truck when a police car pulled in. The cop that got out stretched the kinks out of his legs. Gray tinged his hair, and a bandage had been taped behind his ear.
“I want to talk to you,” he said.
Hook closed the door. “Start talking.”
“What's your name?” he asked.
“Hook Runyon, railroad agent. What's yours?”
“We raided a jungle last night,” he said.
“Were they on railroad property?”
“Under a city bridge.”
“Out of my jurisdiction,” Hook said. “You see one on railroad property, give me a call.”
“Thing is, I caught one of them and cuffed him to the bridge support. When I got back the son of a bitch had escaped, gone, but his arm was hanging from the bridge. Someone cracked me behind the ear, and when I woke up, damn if that arm hadn't disappeared.”
“What does all this have to do with me?”
“So far, you're the only one-arm son of a bitch I've seen.”
Hook lit a cigarette and looked at the cop through a cloud of smoke.
“With all these army boys about, my guess is that there's more than one man in Barstow with an arm missing.”
“The son of a bitch better not let me catch him,” he said. “Any man cracks me on the head's going to get his ass kicked.”
“Mind moving your patrol car?” Hook said. “We got rules about blocking the right of way.”
Â
Hook pulled up at the bridge and got out, checking to make certain he hadn't been followed. The cops had done a fair job of wrecking the jungle. What they couldn't break up, they had thrown into the river.
“You boys can come out,” Hook said.
One by one they emerged from the weed patch.
“Hello, Hook,” Seth said, cocking his hat. “Some night.”
“You can figure those cops will come back,” Hook said. “And they're a little pissed, especially the one with his head cracked.”
“I hit my head all the time on these bridge supports,” Seth said. “It can sure make you mad.”
Roy buried his hands in his pockets. “You come for more shine, Hook? I got a small batch down there in the weeds.”
“Last time I drank your popskull someone tore off my arm,” Hook said, “and I didn't even know it.”
“I lost a nut the same way,” Roy said. “Woke up and the damn thing was gone.”
Hook worked his way into the shade. “I'm here about that proposition.”
Seth joined him. “Baldwin?”
“It's against my better judgment, but I need men. The railroad's agreed to put you on the payroll from now until we unload in Oklahoma. After that, you boys would be on your own.”
“Hear that?” Seth said.
“I figure you can get a little experience while we are waiting for a train. Working with those inmates requires know-how, and there's no weapons allowed.”
“Kind of like going to the front in your underwear, ain't it?” Seth said.
“Least you'll be riding on the
inside
of the train for a change,” Ethan said.
Santos rolled his shoulders and looked around. “No weapons? Maybe, I don't know.”
Hook shook his head. “That's the way it's got to be. These inmates aren't criminals, Santos, and they aren't Germans neither.”
“Do we get a company truck?” Roy asked.
“No truck, and I expect you boys to be professional.”
“Oh, sure,” Roy said. “We know how to do that.”
“Okay. We're going to load up and go talk to Doctor Baldwin. All you boys have to do is nod your heads once in awhile.”
“You got the truck?” Seth asked. “How did you manage that?”
“I reminded the clerk of my investigation powers.”
“He's stealing?” Ethan asked.
Hook shrugged. “I never knew one who wasn't.”
Â
Before going into Baldwin, Hook walked the men past the mass grave. Roy held his hat in his hand. Ethan's jaw rippled when he asked how many had died.
“Thirty,” Hook said, “more or less. I just wanted you men to see how it is out here. This place is under a lot of pressure. Now let's go see Baldwin. Try to act like you haven't been living under a bridge.”
Doctor Baldwin and Doctor Helms stood when Hook and the men came in. Hook made introductions all around.
“Veterans?” Baldwin asked.
“True American heroes every one,” Hook said.
Doctor Helms folded her arms over her chest.
“Have any of you men worked with mental patients before?” she asked.
“We been in the army, ma'am,” Seth said. “It don't get any crazier than that.”
“I'm afraid this won't do,” she said.
Doctor Baldwin pushed his glasses down to the end of his nose and looked over the tops, his huge eyes shrinking.
“Normally, I would agree, Doctor Helms, but we've had a major tragedy here. Sometimes you have to make do with what you have. These men have served their country and have suffered great hardships. They've demonstrated their ability to adjust to difficult situations. Perhaps we should give this a chance?”
Helms walked down the line of men, stopping in front of Hook. She wore a thin gold chain about her neck.
“Have you explained the security ward to these men?” she asked.
Doctor Baldwin said, “What Doctor Helms means is that the security ward is made up of criminally insane inmates. That's where you will be needed the most during the transfer.”
Helms sat back down and crossed her legs, and a garter snap at the top of her nylons peeked out.
“You should understand what you're getting into,” Helms said. “These inmates have committed horrific crimes. They did so without provocation and without the slightest remorse. Given an opportunity, they would do so again.”
“Sounds like my old drill sergeant,” Roy said.
Hook shot Roy a look. “I been thinking a short training period would be in order,” Hook said. “Division's having trouble locating a passenger train. In the meantime, these men could be instructed on how to handle these inmates.”
“I'm not sure the security ward is the place for training,” Doctor Helms said. “One mistake and someone could lose his life.”
“Well now,” Doctor Baldwin said. “We've trained others, haven't we?”
Helms uncrossed her legs and adjusted her skirt.
“But they worked in the institution for years before transferring to the security ward,” she said. “It's a very dangerous place.”
Doctor Baldwin picked up his pen and commenced doodling on his desk pad.
“Your point is well taken, Doctor, but the fact is very few of our employees have agreed to the move. We don't have a lot of choice.
“We could start these men in the boys' and the women's wards. When the time comes, we'll move them to the security ward. With your supervision, I'm certain things will work out.”
Doctor Helms stood. “I'll do as you say, of course, Doctor Baldwin. But I think it's inadvisable. We cannot afford another calamity like we just had. Baldwin Asylum would not survive.”
Baldwin said, “Place two of your men with Nurse Andrea, Mr. Runyon, and two with Frankie Yager in the boys' ward.”
“Right away,” Hook said.
“And, Mr. Runyon, would you have any idea when a train might be located?”
“I'm sorry, Doctor Baldwin, but I can't be sure. Division is trying to put something together. Equipment is difficult to come by. With a little luck, something will break soon.”
“I do hope so,” he said. “I received a call from Oklahoma last evening. Word has gotten out about our move. The community there is less than happy about our opening an asylum in their town. The longer this goes on, the worse things are likely to become.”
Â
Hook left Seth and Ethan at the boys' ward. Frankie Yager rolled his eyes and turned back to his magazine.
Santos stood behind Hook as he explained the situation to Andrea.
“They've never worked with patients before?” she asked.
“They're good boys, Andrea, a little rough here and there.”
Andrea looked at Santos, who peeked over Hook's shoulder.
“What's the matter with him?” she asked.
“Santos is shy around women, I think,” Hook said. “Roy here will keep an eye on him. Won't you, Roy?”
Roy didn't answer inasmuch as he was watching Ruth, who sat on the cot with her legs apart.
Andrea lifted her brows. “Are you sure about all this, Hook? This
is
an insane asylum.”
“No,” he said. “I haven't been sure about anything since I left Needles. I just get up every morning and do what's in front of me. Once in awhile it works out. I needed men, and these are the ones I found.”
Santos said, “Without fear, I once killed a German soldier in a mud hole, but this place⦔
Andrea took Santos's arm. “It will be alright. You just go about your business, and pretty soon you'll forget all about it. Lots of people are afraid at first.”
“Roy,” Hook said, “when you're done there, Andrea is going to show you around.”
“Sorry, Miss,” he said. “What do we call them?”
“By their names,” Andrea said.
Hook said, “I have a little business to take care of, Andrea. Needles is having rail trouble, so I might be out of pocket for a few days.
“Roy, you boys stay out of trouble while I'm gone.”
“Yes sir,” Roy said. “Everything's under control here.”
Andrea arrived at work early. Santos and Roy were waiting outside the gate for her. Both had gotten haircuts and wore new shirts with the hanger creases still in them.
“Morning Nurse Andrea,” Roy said. “Seth and Ethan went on to the boys' ward.”
“Morning,” Andrea said. “Are you men ready?”
Santos ducked his head and Roy said, “It's like going over the top and not knowing if there's a bullet waiting.”
“Well, there's no bullet. Most of this is just common sense.”
They trailed behind Andrea like little boys at their mother's dress tail. She paused outside the tent.
“These women are here because they're deeply troubled,” she said. “Their judgment, for one reason or another, is impaired, so you are responsible, not only for them but for yourselves. Do you understand what I'm saying?”
“What happens if they attack?” Roy asked.
“That's not likely, Roy. But if it happens, you have to protect yourself, of course, but do so in the least physical way possible. Words are the weapon of choice here.”
“Santos only has about two words,” Roy said. “And they're both in Mexican.”
“Santos will do just fine,” she said and led them inside.
“Now, Esther over there suffers from dementia. She's quite harmless but confused. Don't expect her to follow directions.”
“Seth don't follow directions, either,” Roy said. “But he's just contrary.”
“Ruth is in the general category of paraphilias, specifically exhibitionism.”
“Someone ought tell her to keep her dress down,” Roy said.
“That's just the point, Roy. She gets intense sexual urges to exhibit herself. Her behavior can be quite disturbing. It's best to not reinforce it. Do you understand?”
“I'll do my best,” Roy said, “though it's right disturbing, as you say.”
“The same is true with Bertha, who is sitting over there by the tent flap. She has what we refer to as Histrionic Disorder. She often misreads her relationships with others as being more intimate than they are in reality. It's an odd form of narcissism, in a way.”
“Those are sure big words,” Roy said. “I don't think Santos understands them.”
“Well, don't worry about the words. Just tread carefully in these situations.”
“Santos freezes up around women,” Roy said. “But he's damn handy in a fight.”
“Anna, the old lady over there by the tent pole, has never recovered from her husband's death. She believes she caused it and can't forgive herself.
“Elizabeth, the young girl on the cot, has a malignant brain tumor. Her condition is deteriorating, and her depression has deepened as well.”
“Why won't she look at you?” Roy asked.
“She has trouble focusing now, and she sometimes thinks she's back home again with her people.”
“Doesn't she have anyone left?” Roy asked.
“None to see her through,” she said.
Roy looked at the girl, who had turned her back to them. “I seen boys on the front just the same,” he said, “waiting for word. It's a pity when it don't come. Ain't much left after that, I guess.”
“Okay, we'll meet the others later,” Andrea said. “Questions?”
“What do you want us to do first?” Roy asked.
“You should just get acquainted. The inmates need to get comfortable with you. Mostly what we need is help in managing the daily chores. It has become particularly difficult under these conditions. We have to take them to the cafeteria each day to eat, and the nights are getting colder. Bathing has also become complicated.
“Anyway, for now, just circulate. Talk to them if they want or just sit quietly.”
“Okay,” Roy said. “Come on, Santos. Be sure and don't talk too much.”
Andrea turned to go get the medications ready and then paused.
“About Hook?” she said.
“He caught the east-bound for Needles early this morning,” Roy said.
“I was just curious about the train.”
“Oh, yes ma'am,” Roy said. “I can see where you would be.”
Frankie's record player cranked up over in the boys' ward while Roy and Santos made the rounds. Bertha soon took to Santos's reticence as a sure sign of his infatuation with her and started following him about the tent.
Roy and Santos escorted a small group to the restrooms while Andrea finished her meds. She bandaged Esther's hand, which had been pinched in the tent rope, and looked up to see Doctor Baldwin approaching from across the compound.
“Nurse Andrea,” he said, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
Andrea picked up her tape and gauze. “What is it, Doctor Baldwin?”
“I've decided to call a staff meeting in my office. Do you think you could attend?”
Andrea looked about the tent. “Well, we were just getting ready to take the inmates to lunch.”
“Perhaps you could get someone else to do it.”
“There's Roy and Santos, but they've never done it before.”
“Thank you, Nurse Andrea. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important.”
Andrea lined up the women, making certain that Ruth had all her clothes on and that Esther had gotten in line. Bertha took her place next to Santos, gazing up at him.
“Now,” Andrea said, “their meds have been administered. All you have to do is walk them to the cafeteria. When they've finished eating, bring them back here. I'll be along as soon as I can. Do you think you can do that?”
“Why, sure,” Roy said. “How hard can that be?”
Â
Doctor Baldwin looked up from his papers when Andrea walked in. Doctor Helms stood at the window.
“I'm glad you could make it, Nurse Andrea,” he said. “Please take a seat.”
Doctor Baldwin filed his papers before beginning. “There, now,” he said. “The reason I've called the meeting, the reasons, I should say, are because some pressing matters have arisen.”
Doctor Helms took her chair and fished a pen and paper out of her purse.
“Doctor Baldwin,” she said, “I've left the security ward in the hands of the guard.”
“I will get right to the point. I've received word that the insurance company has delayed payment. They've decided to conduct an investigation of the fire.”
“Do they suspect foul play?” Andrea asked.
“It's just precautionary, to make certain that arson didn't play a role in all of this. I don't anticipate a problem except that it does delay payment. That means I'll have to tap the general fund to pay for the transfer.”
“This could be a problem,” Helms said.
“We should be alright, but it does put a strain on the budget. On top of that, I've had three more locals quit. We are running dangerously low on help. I've called you here to get your advice.”
“Advice?” Andrea said.
“My biggest concern is how to transfer the security ward. Manpower is limited at best, and to move them such a distance and without sufficient help is risky. I can't afford an incident.”
Andrea looked over at Helms and then back at Doctor Baldwin. “I have a suggestion,” she said. “It's only a suggestion, of course.”
“Please,” Doctor Baldwin said. “That's why I asked you to come.”
“Well, given the situation, why couldn't they be sedated? Most of them are on meds now. It would be a matter of increasing the dosage for a temporary period of time. Restraints could be used as a backup when necessary.”
“This presents an ethical problem,” Helms said. “Drugging inmates for our convenience is a questionable procedure.”
“But how ethical is it to risk these men escaping?” Baldwin said.
“Frankly, in my opinion the security ward should not be moved as a group. It puts both the public and the inmates in danger.”
“Time is critical here,” Baldwin said. “The community where the fort is located has become increasingly agitated about having the asylum located there. They've organized a committee and have made their objections known to me.”
Helms checked her watch. “Doctor Baldwin, there is another alternative that you haven't mentioned.”
“Oh?”
“You've intimated that the Baldwin Asylum faces financial problems. Are you sure it's prudent to move all these people to some abandoned fort and without proper funding? If this institution is facing insolvency, then perhaps that issue should be addressed first.”
“I didn't say it was insolvent. Barring complications, I see no reason why we can't reestablish the asylum.”
“But that's exactly the problem,” she said. “If there's one thing I've learned about an insane asylum, it's that there's never a shortage of complications.”
Â
As Andrea walked back to the tent, she thought about what Helms had said. If the situation had been dire enough to call a staff meeting, Baldwin could be in more of a financial bind than he was admitting.
When she rounded the corner, she stopped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God,” she said.
Her patients were coming up the hill from the cafeteria with Roy at the lead and Santos bringing up the rear. In between, the women marched in single file, their hands locked behind their heads prisoner style.
As Roy approached the tent, he said, “Arms down.”
The inmates dropped their arms and remained at attention.
“At ease,” Roy said. “There you go, Nurse Andrea. Fed up and ready for their naps.”
Andrea clamped her hands on her waist. “What
are
you doing?”
“We had a little trouble getting them to line up,” Roy said. “But not for long. One time me and Santos marched a whole squadron of German soldiers fourteen miles the very same way. Didn't have a bit of trouble, did we, Santos?”
“These are patients, Roy, not prisoners of war,” Andrea said.
“Yes, ma'am,” he said. “That's what I told Santos when he wanted to make Bertha do push-ups 'cause she wouldn't leave him be. I says, âSantos, Bertha there is a hysterectomy, and you can't be making her do push-ups.'
“By the way,” he said. “Just so you know, Ruth dropped her britches in the cafeteria, and the cook spilled a pan of biscuits. We ate them anyway. You learn not to be persnickety in the army.”
“Perhaps this is enough training for one day,” Andrea said. “I'll see you men in the morning.”
Andrea watched as Roy and Santos made their way to the gate. She looked back at the security ward and wiped the palms of her hands on her skirt. She hoped she had made the right decision to go along with this move. It would be all too easy to wind up a thousand miles from home with no job and no future.