The intruder waited, then stepped forward to the unmoving body and dragged it into a small cubicle, inside of which were a chair and a small desk. Above the desk was a board with a ring of keys, several notices and a clipboard.
He lifted the heavy man awkwardly into the chair and arranged the body so that the man's head rested on his arms as though asleep. He took the ring of keys.
The intruder went back for the body of the older man and brought it inside the building. Further down the hallway a gurney had been left to one side, and he carefully put the limp body on it, and then set off toward the end of the hall. Near the end he turned left through a pair of swinging doors marked 'Treatment', and passed through another room which contained a dozen unoccupied beds.
Beyond this area was a small room equipped like an operating theater. The smells made the intruder nauseous. He ignored them; he knew the source.
He lifted the man off the gurney onto the operating table, then quickly stripped him to his shorts, strapped him to the table and inserted a rubber bit between his teeth. He taped it in place. He didn't want it to come out during the treatment.
The eyes of the man on the table began to flicker. The amount of drug in the dart had been carefully measured. His head swung from side to side and finally his eyes opened all the way. For a moment he remained absolutely still; then he surged up against the restraints with all his might. It did no good: Stronger men and women than he had tried to escape their inquisitors without success.
The intruder laid his hand on the man's shoulder and spoke to him calmly, softly. His voice was surprisingly free of emotion.
"Do not struggle, Doctor Malinowski. You, more than anyone, should know how futile it is. Just relax; this won't take long at all. I'm going to ask you a few questions. Just nod your head yes or no."
The doctor's eyes were wild, filled with terror. Still he struggled desperately.
The intruder slapped the doctor Malinowski face once, briskly. "Be quiet, Doctor. What do you fear? Have you done something for which you should be punished? Surely not? You're a health care professional, devoted to the gentle counsel of those whose minds have been hurt. You have given your life to the study of mental illness. What possible crime could you be guilty of? I have a few simple questions for you, and then this little play will be over."
The doctor's struggles subsided, not from any lessening of fear; he had run out of strength.
"That's better; I'm on a bit of a time schedule. First question, did you treat a patient, Mrs. Harriett Johannsen Piers?"
The doctor renewed his struggles and made no sign for yes or no.
"Okay, have it your way."
The intruder moved silently to one side of the room and rolled a piece of electrical apparatus toward the side of the table. It was an older machine, black with a crackle finish.
He moved it beside the operating table, next to the doctor's head, and flicked the 'on' switch. The machine came on with a low hum. The doctor strained so hard his scrawny muscles stood out like strands of rope, and his face turned purple with effort.
The intruder slapped him again, hard enough that the crack rang through the small room.
"Settle down, Doctor. Must I use drugs? I would rather not, without your permission. You know how that works."
The doctor stopped struggling, but terror never left his eyes.
"Are you ready to answer my questions?"
The Doctor nodded his head, affirmatively.
"Do you remember the last question? No? Again, did you treat a patient, Mrs. Harriett Johannsen Piers?"
The man on the table nodded, yes.
"Good, good. Now we're getting somewhere. I'm going to name some of the staff. If any were present or assisted in Mrs. Piers' treatment, just nod your head, please."
The intruder listed eight staff members by name and the doctor nodded his head after three of the names: One woman, a staff nurse, a nurse intern and an attendant.
"Thank you, Doctor, you've been helpful. I have read the records carefully and I'm curious. Why, I wondered, was it considered the best procedure to deliver ECT to a woman with a heart condition, particularly unmodified? How could anyone think it necessary to give ECT to an old woman, who at the worst was mildly eccentric? In fact, how could anyone try to electrocute a person and call it therapy? But that is a question that can never be answered here.”
There was a long pause as the intruder reached toward the black machine with crackle finish. He did so with all the willingness of a man approaching a rattlesnake.
"I have asked myself that question for weeks, twenty four hours a day. Yes, even in my sleep I ask that question. I have spent a lot of time reading about your profession, trying to understand."
The intruder looked around the room in stark disbelief. "When people first heard of the Nazi death camps they could not comprehend such monstrous inhumanity.
"This was a woman at the top of her profession, respected by men of all political persuasions as the best financial analyst of government organizations in the United States. Idiosyncratic? A little perhaps. Violent, never: Mad...no, never that.
"So, as you can see, I ask myself why, and still no answer. If I thought you could provide me with an answer I would have taken you elsewhere, someplace where I could hear your answers, but as you have already deduced, I am not really interested in your explanations. All I want to know is were you the one who tortured and murdered Mrs. Piers."
The doctor's eyes opened and closed rapidly. His face was the pale, translucent color of the dead. In his fear he lost control the muscles of his bladder and urinated uncontrollably.
The intruder stood by the table for several minutes, unmoving.
"Doctor Malinowski, it is obvious to me that you don't believe in the spirit that is man. One might not think so, but I do." He spoke with quiet conviction.
"Because I do believe, I hold you responsible, body and spirit. I hope in lives to come you will remember what you have done, and find a way to atone.
"I have looked into the possibility of the law punishing you, and I find they are completely ignorant of your crimes. So, it has fallen to me to punish you. I don't relish it, but in your case, I won't regret it."
The stench of feces filled the still air of the treatment room. The last barrier to bodily dignity had burst.
The intruder reached over and fastened a plastic band with electrodes in firm contact with the man's temples. He reached down to the electro-shock machine and set the voltage to maximum, pressed the activate switch and held it. He did not look away from the effects of his decision.
Normally it is held for a few seconds. In this case, the intruder held it for three minutes until the body on the table ceased to shake.
He reached out and put his gloved fingers on the man's throat, feeling for a pulse. There was none. He stood beside the table for another five minutes and then checked the doctor's pulse again. There was still none.
He left the clinic as he had come, silently.
