Robert Bloch's Psycho (19 page)

“So while Miss Pearson continues to try and contact our missing pair, let us see what might be in their offices—if they have emptied them out—whether or not their automobiles are here—see if they hinted to anyone of their individual or joint plans … yes, Dr. Steiner?”

Steiner lowered his raised hand. “In light of Ronald Miller's recent escape, should we … well, do you think it might be advisable to contact law enforcement?”

Goldberg looked puzzled. “I don't understand the connection.”

“Well,” Steiner said, “there's been no trace of Miller either nearby or farther away. He could still be in the area. His case file suggests an extreme sadistic personality, and if a personality such as that has a desire for vengeance as well…” He shrugged.

“So you are suggesting that Ronald Miller might have … what? Kidnapped or harmed Myron and Nurse Lindstrom?”

“It's possible.”

“I suppose it is, but there have been no indications of foul play of which I am aware. While there
may
be indications of a lovers' tryst. Also, in the absence of such evidence of violence as what you suggest, Dr. Steiner, I believe the authorities require one to wait a certain length of time, twenty-four hours or so, before opening a missing persons investigation, is that not right?”

Dr. Berkowitz cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but that's a common misconception, Doctor. If there's any indication of violence, or unusual circumstances, the police want to hear about it. The sooner their investigation starts, the easier it is for them to pick up the trail.”

Goldberg beamed. “Ah,
mein jüngerer Bruder,
you have knowledge of more than psychiatry. And what you say makes sense. But before we contact the authorities, may we at least search the two prodigals' offices and also see if their cars are present, for I am sure the
Polizei
will wish to know that. And who knows, perhaps we may find a note saying that they decided to go together to a psychiatric conference in Omaha.” Goldberg chuckled, and the rest gave feeble laughs. “Also, I have already asked Mr. Wiseman to have all the attendants search all floors of the building thoroughly to make sure that the couple is not here, the same kind of search that was carried out after Miller's escape. And I'm sure that if there are any indications of violence, we will know quickly.”

The parking lot was found to contain Eleanor Lindstrom's green Buick Skylark, though Myron Gunn's black DeSoto Firedome was absent. In Myron's small office, barely larger than a closet, they found his waxed cotton cap with earflaps and the red plaid wool hunting jacket he wore in cold weather, but his car keys weren't in the pocket.

Dr. Berkowitz and Dr. Reed entered Nurse Lindstrom's office, where they found her purse along with her overcoat. “Strange,” Berkowitz said. “A woman runs off with a man, she hardly leaves her purse behind.”

“
Or
her coat,” Reed said. “Not in this weather. Are her car keys in her purse? The police might want them.”

Berkowitz opened it and dug around, then came up with a ring of half a dozen keys. “Bingo.”

The doctors met back in Goldberg's office. While it was conceivable that Gunn and Lindstrom had left in Gunn's car without their coats (“Maybe they ran off to Florida,” Goldberg jokingly suggested), it was unlikely she would have done so without her purse.

“
Unless,
” Berkowitz said, “it was an impulse, a spur of the moment thing where they … threw caution to the winds.”

Steiner nodded. “Possible. Also possible that they didn't intend to be gone for long, that they planned to do something together and then come back.”

“But do what?” Reed asked. “Her car is here, his is gone, so if they're not still here, apparently they drove away together, but to what end?”

“Sex?” Steiner said.

“A nasty night for coupling in an automobile,” Goldberg said with a frown. “Where could they have gone for a … what do you call it, a quick one?”

“Not Gunn's,” Steiner said. “He's married. That would leave Nurse Lindstrom's house—or apartment.”

“House,” Goldberg said. “She once spoke of it to me.”

Reed raised a finger. “May I suggest that at this point we call Sheriff Chambers, tell him what's happened, and ask him to check on Eleanor Lindstrom's house? If that's where they went, and it turns out to be … well, a crime scene, I'd much rather have the law discover it than one of us.” A heavy silence fell. “I'm sorry to suggest that, but what Nick here said about Ronald Miller … well, I guess it got my imagination working. I hope I'm wrong.”

“I think that is a capital idea,” Goldberg said as he picked up the phone and called Sheriff Chambers, to whom he explained the situation.

Chambers called back a half hour later. “Had a deputy stop by the Lindstrom woman's house,” he told Dr. Goldberg. “Myron Gunn's DeSoto wasn't in the driveway or anywhere on the street. My man knocked, but there was no answer, so he radioed me and I told him to force the lock. House was empty, with no signs that anyone had made a speedy exit. You, uh, want us out there?”

Dr. Goldberg paused before answering. “
Ja,
if you wouldn't mind, Sheriff. There are a number of elements that are … questionable. Perhaps with an organized investigation, interviewing our staff, you may be able to learn things we have not. Would you want to get Captain Banning involved?”

“I'd rather not bring in the state boys just yet,” Chambers said. “We don't even know if a crime was committed, after all. We can call them if we need them.”

“You know best, Sheriff. It may be best to handle this situation discreetly. There may be nothing more to it than two people running away together, who knows?”

After Goldberg hung up, Steiner said, “You really believe that could be a possibility, Doctor?”

Goldberg sighed. “After a long life studying humanity and its behavior, Nick, nothing would surprise me. I can envision the two of them getting in the car on impulse and driving to a motor lodge, leaving all else behind in the throes of passion, having sexual relations, and then, away from the facility in which they have previously shared all their time together, come to a joint realization—or illusion—that one cannot live without the other. They then decide to leave together, run away for a brief time, or for forever, who knows? They simply get in the car and drive. Unlikely? Yes. Illogical? Yes. Unexpected? Of course. But passion and love make people do such things. So it is not
impossible.
As Conan Doyle said in the words of the world's greatest consulting detective, ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.'”

“So,” Steiner said, “is the involvement of Ronald Miller impossible?”

“Certainly not,” Goldberg answered. “There are still a great many things that are not impossible. Perhaps the police will discover some possibilities we have overlooked.”

*   *   *

But the police, consisting of Sheriff Chambers and two deputies, found little. They gathered all personnel together in the break room and Sheriff Chambers asked anyone with any personal knowledge of Myron Gunn and Eleanor Lindstrom to please stay there to be interviewed, and dismissed the rest. Several stayed, among them Nurse Tess Asher and Ray Wiseman. While Chambers talked to them, one of his deputies took the car keys that Berkowitz had found in Eleanor's purse and went outside to look in her car.

Ray Wiseman seemed comfortable with Sheriff Chambers. He'd lived in Fairvale his whole life, and knew the man. “So, Ray,” Chambers said. “What can you tell me about these two?”

“Look, Jud,” Wiseman said, “you didn't hear this from me. Myron comes back, I don't want him thinking I been telling tales on him, y'know? Man can hold a grudge.”

“Our secret,” Chambers said. “What do you know?”

“They had … well, they've
got
a romance going, all right. Have for years. I heard them one time, couple years back, in an empty patient room at night, but I think they do it mostly down in the laundry room. Warmer, and nobody goes there after six. They're not the only ones who use it, but we're just talking about those two now. I actually saw them once. I'd gone down for some cleaning supplies, and I heard them before I come across them, thank God. I was on the darker side of the corridor, so I peeked, and there they were, Myron and Santa … uh, Nurse Lindstrom. Had most of their clothes on, but it was pretty obvious what they were doing. On a big pile of clean towels.” Wiseman's face soured at the thought.

“You say anything to anybody about it?” Chambers asked.

“No, sir. Not my business. If it was somebody who was working under me, why then, I might've later. But tell my boss I saw him like that with the head nurse? No, thank you. I'd like to stay working here a little longer.”

Some of the other people who remained had similar stories, and some were just gossips, telling what they'd heard about but never seen. Nurse Tess Asher was more helpful in that she could actually confirm the relationship. “Eleanor was in love with Myron from the first day he walked in here. It was only a matter of time. And I
knew
when they first started … doing it.”

“How?” Chambers asked.

“Oh, a woman knows.”

“And, being a woman, you did.”

She did, she replied, in no uncertain terms.

When the deputy returned from checking Eleanor Lindstrom's car, he had found only one item of interest. It was a small suitcase he had taken from the trunk. When Chambers unlatched it, he found several blouses and skirts, some bras and panties, and a black lace nightie.

“Well,” he observed to the deputy, “if she was planning on running away with this guy, she didn't take her supplies along.”

Chambers had no sooner closed the suitcase than his other deputy, whose job had been to canvass the building for anything out of the ordinary, returned. “Find anything?” Chambers asked.

“Not hardly,” the deputy said. “No signs of struggle, no bloody hatchets lyin' around.”

“Not funny,” Chambers said.

“Sorry. Only thing kinda out of whack was some missing towels.”

“What?”

“Yeah. The guys down in the laundry said that about half a dozen clean towels disappeared from some piles they have on pallets down there.”

Chambers thought about the laundry, and about what Ray Wiseman had said about Gunn and Lindstrom having sex on piles of towels. “Let's take a look.”

When they got to the laundry, the clean towels had already been taken away in wheeled baskets for distribution to the patients. Chambers asked where exactly the missing towels had been, and one of the workers showed him the now empty wooden pallet. There were other empty pallets near it, but each of them was covered with a large cloth.

“Was there a cloth cover on this pallet too?” Chambers asked the man.

“Sure. Can't put clean towels on rough wood like that.”

“So was the cloth cover missing on this one along with the towels?”

“Yep.”

Chambers lifted the bare pallet and looked underneath it, but saw nothing on the painted cement floor other than the usual scratches and gouges. Then he looked at the wood of the pallet itself.

“Whatcha lookin' for, Sheriff,” the deputy said, “bloodstains?”

“Nah, I'm just lookin',” Chambers replied. Finding nothing, he set the pallet back down and started examining the rest of the floor and the nearby walls. Nothing there either. The floor around the pallet appeared to be cleaner than the surrounding area, though not by much.

“How often this floor get mopped?” he asked the man, who had lit a cigarette to watch the police in action.

“Once a week or so.”

“Done recently?”

“Couple of days.”

Chambers nodded and dug out a cigarette of his own. He stuck it between his lips and lit it. “Can you think of any reason,” he asked the man, “for somebody to steal some towels? Or that cover?”

The man shrugged. “I don't know. People take stuff sometimes. But towels, they'd be hard to sneak out. Still, these are pretty thin. Guess you could always wrap them around yourself and put your coat over them. If you needed towels that bad. As for the cover, I don't know. They're just old sheets, really, too worn for the patients to use.”

Chambers nodded and looked around again. “Okay, that's all here,” he said, and he and the deputy walked back upstairs.

Dr. Goldberg was doing some paperwork when Chambers entered his office again. Music was playing on a big record player at one end of the room. It wasn't loud, but Chambers winced at the high voices, and Goldberg noticed. “You don't care for opera?” he asked.

“That what that is?” Chambers said. “I can stand it. Wanted to tell you what we found—or didn't.” Goldberg nodded and leaned forward. “Mr. Gunn and Nurse Lindstrom were most definitely an item. Plenty of proof of that. We found no signs of any violence or foul play, only thing strange is that somebody stole some towels last night.”

“Stole some towels?”

“Yep. But I don't see that it has much to do with this disappearance. Just kinda goofy, though.” He paused. “You want to know what I really think?”

“Of course.”

“I think they went off together. I think it was unplanned, and I think that once they did it, they liked it. Maybe it's just something they had to get out of their system, I don't know, you're the headshrinker. But I'd bet that once they realize what they've done, they'll come back, maybe today, tomorrow, next week, but sometime. You say they were in their late forties, early fifties? People get desperate at that age sometimes. Sex makes them do crazy things, but you know that, right?”