No one came into view.
Bonner was confused. He’d read the rigid instructions the 1600 Patrol were to follow. With such buildings as the private hospital, housing a singular vehicular entrance and no more than three stories in height, one man was to remain outside, the other within, both in instant radio contact. The men from 1600 were the best in matters of security. They would not deviate except in an emergency.
To make certain it was not simply a case of observance without contact, Bonner walked slowly around the car and spoke clearly, projecting his voice slightly, not shouting.
«Bonner, Paul. Major, D.O.D. ‘Sixteen hundred,’ please respond… Repeat. ‘Sixteen hundred,’ please reply.»
Nothing. Only the silent tone of the night, the muted hum of the peaceful building.
Paul Bonner reached under his tunic to his belt. He withdrew his «civilian» pistol—a custom-tooled, short-barreled, heavy .44. It would blow a human being into a jack-knifed, flying corpse.
He raced across the drive to the front entrance of the private hospital. He couldn’t know what was happening inside. His uniform might be a deterrent or a provocation—it was certainly a target. He put the pistol in his tunic pocket and kept his hand on the stock, his finger curled in the trigger housing; with his thumb he released the safety and held the weapon in a horizontal position. He was prepared to fire through the cloth.
He turned the large brass knob quietly, and swiftly opened the white colonial door, startling an attractive, intelligent-looking nurse behind an admissions counter. She’d been reading at the desk; there was no panic within. He approached and spoke calmly.
«Miss, my name is Bonner. I understand Mrs. Andrew Trevayne is a patient here.»
«Yes … Colonel.»
«‘Major’ is fine.»
«I can never get those insignias straight,» said the girl pleasantly, getting out of the chair.
«I have trouble myself; the Navy stripes always confuse me.» Bonner looked around for the 1600 Patrol.
No one.
«Yes, Mrs. Trevayne’s a patient. Is she expecting you? It’s somewhat after the usual visiting hours, Major.»
«Actually, I’m looking for Mr. Trevayne. I was told I’d find him here.»
«I’m afraid you missed him. He left about an hour ago.»
«Oh? Then I wonder … perhaps I might speak with Mrs. Trevayne’s driver. I believe arrangements were made for a driver and a secretary; I think …»
«It’s all right, Major,» said the nurse, smiling. «Our registration book is filled with ‘captains and kings,’ and people who keep them from being bothered by other people. I gather you’re referring to the two gentlemen who arrived with Mrs. Trevayne. Nice guys.»
«That’s who I’m referring to. Where are they?»
«It’s not your night, Major. They left before Mr. Trevayne.»
«Did they say where they were going? It’s really quite urgent that I talk to them.»
«No… Mr. Callahan, the one in the corridor, got a phone call around seven-thirty. All he said was that he and his friend had the night off. I think he liked the idea.»
«Who took the call? I mean, do you know where it came from?» Bonner tried to conceal his anxiety, none too successfully.
«The switchboard.» The nurse understood the look in Paul’s eyes. «Shall I ask the operator if she can recall?»
«Please.»
The girl crossed rapidly to a white, paneled door to the right, behind the counter, and opened it. Bonner could see a small switchboard and a middle-aged woman seated in front of it. He thought how different things were in a private hospital; even a switchboard was kept from public scrutiny. No large glass walls with impersonal robots plugging in wires; no starched, hard mannequins announcing institutional names over the hectic drone of mechanized activity. Everything secreted gracefully, everything personal, so nonpublic; elegant, somehow.
The nurse returned. «The call was long-distance; a Washingon, D.C., operator. Person-to-person for Mr. Callahan, Mrs. Trevayne’s party.»
«And then he left?» Paul’s anxiety turned to concrete fear. On several levels; for a number of reasons. There had to be an explanation, and he had to know what it was.
«That’s right,» answered the girl. «Major? Would you like to use the telephone?»
Bonner felt relief at the nurse’s perception. «I would very much. Is there—»
«There’s a phone in the waiting room. Right through there.» She pointed at an open door across the hall. «On the table next to the window. Just tell the operator to bill it to room … two-twelve. You’ll have privacy.»
«You’re very kind.»
«You’re very uptight.»
The «waiting room» was a living room, gracefully secreted, warmly appointed, rugs on the floor. So different from the plastic couches and the confusing array of magazine racks usually found in hospitals.
Paul gave the Washington number to the operator, and before the first ring was completed, 1600 Security answered.
«It’s Major Bonner again. Is this the same—»
«Right, Major. Four-to-twelve shift. Did you find the place?»
«Yes, I’m calling from there. What happened?»
«What happened where?»
«Here. Darien. Who relieved the men?»
«Relieved? What are you talking about?»
«The men were relieved. They were released at seven-thirty, or around then. Why?»
«No one released anybody, Bonner. What the hell are you talking about?»
«The men aren’t here.»
«Look around, Major. They’re there. They may not want you to know it, but—»
«I’m telling you, they left. Do you have a man named Callahan?»
«Hold it. I’ll get the route sheet; it’s right over here… Yes, Callahan and Ellis. They’re on till two A.M.»
«They’re not on, goddamn it! Callahan got a phone call from Washington. At seven-thirty. He left; he told the nurse he and his partner had the night off.»
«That’s crazy! No release went out. If it did, I’d know about it; it’d be listed on the route sheet. Damn it, Bonner, I’d be the one to make contact.»
«Are you telling me Callahan lied? He’s not here; take my word for it. Neither of them is.»
«There’d be no reason for Callahan to lie. On the other hand, he couldn’t have been released unless the call came from here. He couldn’t have—»
«Why not?»
«Well, routine procedures … you know. I.D. codes change every twenty-four hours. Those words are locked tight. He’d have to be given a code phrase before he accepted any instructions. You know …»
«Then somebody’s got your words, buddy, ’cause the boys have gone.»
«That’s just crazy!»
«Look, I don’t want to argue; get the next team over.»
«They’re due at two—»
«Now!»
«They’ll be pissed off; I may have trouble finding—»
«Then use locals! Get this post covered within fifteen minutes! I don’t care if you have to use the Darien Boy Scouts! And find out who called Callahan.»
«Take it easy, Major. You’re not running this office.»
«You may not be either if a foul-up like this can happen!»
«Hey, wait a minute! You know who could have released them?»
«Who?»
«Trevayne.»
«He was upstairs with his wife when the call came.»
«He could have told them before, you know. I mean Callahan’s call could have been personal. Those guys do have wives and families, you know. People don’t think of that. I have to.»