The Doomsters Read Online Free PDF Page A

made, with a fine sweep of bosom and the shoulders to support it. Her black hair was drawn back severely in a chignon. She had on a rather severely tailored dress which seemed intended to play down her femininity, without too much success.
    “Miss Parish, this is Mr. Archer,” Brockley said. “Mr. Archer ran into Carl Hallman this morning.”
    Her dark eyes lit with concern. “Where did you see him?”
    “He came to my house.”
    “Is he all right?”
    “It’s hard to say.”
    “There’s been a little trouble,” Brockley put in. “Nothingtoo serious. I’ll fill you in later if you like. I’m a bit rushed right now.”
    She took it as a reproof. “I’m sorry, Doctor.”
    “Nothing to be sorry about. I know you’re interested in the case.”
    He opened the folder and began to scan it. Miss Parish went out rather hastily, bumping one hip on the doorframe. She had the kind of hips that are meant for child-bearing and associated activities. Brockley cleared his throat, and brought my attention back to him:
    “Compton High School. Rica’s your boy all right.”

chapter
6
          I WASN’T surprised, just disappointed. Tom had played his part in the postwar rebellion that turned so many boys against authority. But he had been one of the salvageable ones, I thought. I’d helped to get him probation after his first major conviction—car theft, as usual—taught him a little boxing and shooting, tried to teach him some of the other things a man should know. Well, at least he remembered my name.
    “What happened to Tom?” I said.
    “Who can say? He was only in a short time, and we hadn’t got to him yet. Frankly, we don’t spend much time on personal work with addicts. It’s mostly up to them. Some of them make it, some don’t.” He looked down into the folder on his desk. “Rica has a history of trouble. We’ll have to notify the police of his escape.”
    “What about Carl Hallman?”
    “I’ve been in touch with his family. They’re contacting Ostervelt, the sheriff in Purissima—he knows Carl. I’d rather handle it unofficially, if it’s all right with you. Keep this car trouble off the books until Carl has a chance to think twice about it.”
    “You think he’ll come to his senses and bring it back?”
    “It wouldn’t surprise me. We could at least give him a chance.”
    “He’s not dangerous, in your opinion?”
    “Everybody’s dangerous, given the wrong circumstances. I can’t predict individual behavior. I know that Carl got rough with you. Still, I’d be willing to take a chance on him. His hospital record is good. And there are other considerations. You know what happens when a patient goes out of here, with or without leave, and gets into any kind of trouble. The newspapers play it up, and then there’s public pressure on us to go back to the snake-pit days—lock the loonies up and forget about them.” Brockley’s voice was bitter. He passed his hand over his mouth, pulling it to one side. “Are you willing to wait a bit, Mr. Archer? I can get you transportation back to town.”
    “I’d like a few questions answered first.”
    “I’m overdue on the ward now.” He glanced at the watch on his wrist, then shrugged. “All right. Shoot away.”
    “Was Carl being kept here by his brother Jerry, after he needed it?”
    “No. It was a staff matter, essentially my decision.”
    “Did he tell you he blamed himself for his father’s death?”
    “Many times. I’d say that guilt feeling was central in his illness. He also attached it to his mother’s death. Her suicide was a great shock to him.”
    “She killed herself?”
    “Yes, some years ago. Carl thought she did it because bebroke her heart. It’s typical of psychotic patients to blame themselves for everything that happens. Guilt is our main commodity here.” He smiled. “We give it away.”
    “Hallman has a lot on his mind.”
    “He’s been getting rid of it, gradually. And shock therapy helped. Some of