dead at least two days. You understand?
“How do you know?” shouted the same man.
“Shut up and listen,” said D’Agosta. “We’re going to get you out of here. If we can’t open the door, they’ll do it from the outside. It may take a few minutes. In the meantime, I want you all to get away from the door, stick together, find yourself some chairs that aren’t broken, and sit down. Okay? There’s nothing you can do here.”
Wright stepped forward into the light. “Listen, [334] officer,” he said, “We’ve got to get out of here. Ippolito, for the love of God, open the door!”
“Just a moment!” said D’Agosta sharply. “Dr. Wright, please return to the group.” He looked around at the wide-eyed faces. “Are there any physicians here?”
There was a silence.
“Nurses? First aid?”
“I know some first aid,” someone volunteered.
“Great. Mister, ah—”
“Arthur Pound.”
“Pound. Get one or two volunteers to help you. There are several people who look like they got trampled. I need to know number and their condition. I’ve got a guy back at the exhibition entrance, Bailey, who can help you. He’s got a flashlight. We also need a volunteer to help collect some candles.”
A young, lanky fellow in a wrinkled tuxedo came out of the gloom. He finished chewing, swallowed. “I’ll help with that,” he said.
“Name?”
“Smithback.”
“Okay, Smithback. You got matches?”
“Sure do.”
The Mayor stepped forward. His face was smeared with blood and a large purple welt was emerging beneath one eye. “Let me help,” he said.
D’Agosta looked at him with amazement. “Mayor Harper! Maybe you can take charge of everyone. Keep them calm.”
“Certainly, Lieutenant.”
D’Agosta’s radio squawked again, and he grabbed it. “D’Agosta, this is Coffey. D’Agosta, do you read? What the hell’s going on in there? Give me a sit-ref!”
D’Agosta talked fast. “Listen up, I’m not going to say this twice. We’ve got at least eight dead, probably more, and an undetermined number of wounded. I guess you know about the people caught under the door. [335] Ippolito can’t get the fucking door open. There’s about thirty, maybe forty of us here. Including Wright and the Mayor.”
“The Mayor! Shit. Look, D’Agosta, the system’s failed totally. The manual override doesn’t work on this side, either. I’ll get a crew with acetylene to cut you guys out. It may take awhile, this door’s built like a bank vault. Is the Mayor okay?”
“He’s fine. Where’s Pendergast?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“Who else is trapped inside the perimeter?”
“Don’t know yet,” said Coffey. “We’re taking reports now. There should be some men in the Computer Room and Security Command, Garcia and a few others. Might be a few on the other floors. We got several plainclothes officers and guards out here. They were pushed out with the crowd, some of them got messed up pretty bad. What the hell happened in the exhibition, D’Agosta?”
“They found the body of one of my men stuffed on top of an exhibit. Gutted, just like the rest.” He paused, then spoke bitterly. “If you’d let me do the sweep I requested, none of this would have happened.”
The radio squawked again and went silent.
“Pound!” D’Agosta called. “What’s the extent of the injuries?”
“We’ve got one man alive, but just barely,” Pound said, looking up from an inert form. “The rest are dead. Trampled. Maybe one or two heart attacks, it’s hard to say.
“Do what you can for the live one,” D’Agosta said.
His radio buzzed. “Lieutenant D’Agosta?” said a scratchy voice. “This is Garcia, in Security Command, sir. We got ...” The voice trailed out in a burst of static.
“Garcia? Garcia! What is it?” D’Agosta shouted into the radio.
“Sorry, sir, the batteries on this mobile transmitter [336] I’m using are weak. We got Pendergast on the honk. I’m patching him over to you.”
“Vincent,” came the familiar drawl.
“Pendergast! Where are you?”
“I’m in the basement, Section Twenty-nine. I understand the power is out throughout the Museum, and that we’re trapped inside Cell Two. I’m afraid I’ve got a little more bad news of my own to add. Could you please move to a spot where we can speak privately?”
D’Agosta walked away from the crowd. “What is it?” he asked in a low tone.
