And this new group would arrive so late. Couldn't even begin processing them. Or could they?

Might have to.

Let's look at the details.

Connecticut: Musto, John, and his brothers, Ralph and Pietro. Murders.

Following those names, five others of the gang that had terrorized the banks in that area for two years. Capturing all of them at once by putting a sleep-gas bomb in a basket of groceries delivered to their hideout, that had been a neat bit of police work. But till those boys were conditioned or drugged, they would need special guards.

Delaware: Clarens, Walter. Murders. The name was familiar--Oh yes, three killings, one of them a little girl with whose blood Clarens had written at the scene. "For G.o.d's sake, catch me before I kill again."

Well, Thornberry would be happy.

Maryland: Major crimes, but no killers.

New Jersey: The usual list from the waterfronts and the usual wide variety of manslaughter and homicide.

New York: Dalton, Harry. Let's see, haven't I ... yes. "The Man No Jail Can Hold." Another special guard.

Pennsylvania:...

The name jumped out. _Rooney, Michael_.

The intercom on his desk buzzed and he flipped the switch. "Go ahead, Bennington here," he said, and realized only after he had spoken how the thought of Rooney had made his voice a growl.

"Dr. Thornberry, sir. May I see you?"

"By all means," Bennington said. "The sooner, the better."

Thornberry started talking as soon as he opened the door between the two offices.

"General, did you see the list of new arrivals? Of all people, Dalton!

And arriving too late to be conditioned!"

Bennington said nothing until the psychologist had seated himself. He simply watched his chief a.s.sistant and tried to find some reason to like the man.

"What do you mean," he finally said, "too late to be conditioned?"

Having just considered this problem, Bennington's question was a testing of Thornberry, not a request for information.

Thornberry was looking aggrieved, as if the fact was so obvious even the general could understand it. "Processing takes all day, sir, and this group does not arrive until late afternoon."

"Does the processing have to be continuous?" Bennington hoped his chief a.s.sistant would show a little flexibility.

But the question threw the bureaucratic psychologist into mental dishevelment. "I beg your pardon?"

"All we have to worry about is keeping them quiet tonight, then you can slip them back to normal in the morning and run them through as if they had arrived tomorrow."

Thornberry pursed his lips. "But that would mean--"

"A little extra work on the part of very few men," Bennington snapped.

"We'll keep them away from the rest tonight by sleeping them in The Cage. A couple of men in Supply can move cots and blankets over there now. Feed them coffee and sandwiches. Call the Mess Hall and get them made up. At the same time I know you'll find three or four men who want the overtime for dishing it out.

"How long do you need to know if you can use hypnosis or if you need drugs, and wouldn't it be simpler to drug the whole lot?"

"No, definitely not the last," and for the first time Thornberry was being positive, "because we have to use a ma.s.sive dose and they can't shake it till--day after tomorrow, at the best tomorrow afternoon."

"The Army can decide to hypno in two minutes with a spin-dizzy wheel and some lights. How long for you?"

Thornberry bridled. "The same, especially if _I_ do it."

"Good. So now you need a doctor to drug the ones who need it, a psychologist to decide who gets what, one machine moved and one technician." Bennington snapped on his intercom, said to his secretary, "Get Judkins in here."

"Yes, _sir_!"

_The word seems to be getting around_, Bennington decided, _but this will take a moment_.

He started on his next problem. "Have you ever inspected the prison grounds at night?"

"No, sir! That is Slater's duty!"

Thornberry was again the proper bureaucrat, horrified at the thought of invading another's domain.

"Judkins here," came from the intercom.

"Bennington speaking. You know the corridor between the reception and interview rooms in The Cage?"

"Yes, sir."

"Get your equipment over close to there. We have a group of prisoners arriving around 1530, too late for complete processing. But at least you can condition them against escape."

The intercom was silent a moment, then, "But how will I know who I'm working on?"

Bennington questioned Thornberry with a raised eyebrow.

The psych-expert shook his head, no.

"This time you don't need to know," Bennington said. "Get your equipment set up and report to me when it's ready."

Another long silence, then, "Yes, sir."

"He should know who he has under the hood," Thornberry said thoughtfully, after Bennington had silenced the intercom, "especially since the group includes a man like Dalton--"

"We have something more important to discuss," Bennington cut in, dismissing the subject. "Last night I inspected the prison compound."

He described what he had found, then leaned back to hear Thornberry's reaction.