ow," he said. "You see? Suppose you give me
back my clothes and let's get down to brass tacks."

* * * * *

It wasn't that simple, of course.

First the attendants had to go and get Dr. Blake, and everybody had to
explain everything three or four times, until Malone was just as sick
of being an FBI agent as he had ever been of being a padded-cell case.
But, at last, he stood before Dr. Blake in the corridor outside, once
again fully dressed. Slightly rumpled, of course, but fully dressed.
It did, Malone thought, make a difference, and if clothes didn't
exactly make the man they were a long way from a hindrance.

"Mr. Malone," Blake was saying, "I want to offer my apologies--"

"Perfectly okay," Malone said agreeably. "But I would like to know
something. Do you treat all your visitors like this? I mean--the
milkman, the mailman, relatives of patients--"

"It's not often we get someone here who claims to be from the FBI,"
Blake said. "And naturally our first thought was that--well, sometimes
a patient will come in, just give himself up, so to speak. His
unconscious mind knows that he needs help, and so he comes to us. We
try to help him."

Privately, Malone told himself that it was a hell of a way to run a
hospital. Aloud, all he said was: "Sure. I understand perfectly,
Doctor."

Dr. Blake nodded. "And now," he said, "what did you want to talk to me
about?"

"Just a minute." Malone closed his eyes. He'd told Burris he would
check in, and he was late. "Have you got a phone I can use?"

"Certainly," Blake said, and led him down the corridor to a small
office. Malone went to the phone at one end and began dialing even
before Blake shut the door and left him alone.

The screen lit up instantly with Burris' face. "Malone, where the hell
have you been?" the head of the FBI roared. "I've been trying to get
in touch with you--"

"Sorry," Malone said. "I was tied up."

"What do you mean, tied up?" Burris said. "Do you know I was just
about to send out a general search order? I thought they'd got you."

"They?" Malone said, interested. "Who?"

"How the hell would I know who?" Burris roared.

"Well, nobody got me," Malone said. "I've been investigating Rice
Pavilion, just like I'm supposed to do."

"Then why didn't you check in?" Burris asked.

Malone sighed. "Because I got myself locked up," he said, and
explained. Burris listened with patience.

When Malone was finished, Burri