and somehow elude a professional ground and air search party.'
Underwood gave him a sympathetic smile. 'Sheriff, I'll bet nobody told you it was going to be easy. Are you through with me?'
Ramsay waved him away. 'Yeah, thanks, Doctor. I'll be down to talk to you later. Try not to mention you- know-what to our reporter friends, will you?'
'Are you kidding? I walked past a bunch of them in the lobby, and all they're talking about is werewolves. I even saw a couple of them sharpening wooden stakes.'
Ramsay could not resist a smile. 'That shows how much they know. Stakes are for vampires.'
Dr Underwood nodded sagely and left the office.
It was past two o'clock and Ramsay had not eaten since a coffee and donut early this morning. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of the omission. He got up and went to the door where the deputies stood guard. To Fernandez he said, 'How about seeing if you can scrounge something to eat. I'm not ready to run the gauntlet in the lobby yet.'
Before the young deputy could answer, Holly Lang appeared wheeling one of the hospital food carts.
'I thought you men might be getting hungry,' she said.
'You're magic,' Ramsay told her.
She gave a tray to each of the deputies and wheeled the cart into the office. Ramsay closed the door behind her.
On covered plates there was coleslaw, roast beef, hot rolls, mashed potatoes, and peas. There was Jello for dessert and a flask of coffee.
'Not exactly cordon bleu, but nutritious, or so they tell me in the cafeteria.'
'It looks great. And I promised the next meal was going to be on me.'
'I'll catch up with you,' Holly said. 'Dig in while it's hot.'
Ramsay began to eat. He could feel Holly watching him. 'Go ahead and ask,' he said.
'All right. How are you doing?'
'Just swell. It appears that a nice-mannered fellow named Mr Derak walked into Dr Qualen's office, bit him to death, jumped out the window, and disappeared. It's a piece of cake.'
'You know Malcolm is gone, don't you?'
'Yes, of course.'
'The nurse, Rita Keneally, says Dr Pastory came in early this morning, had Malcolm sedated, and took him away.'
'So?'
'Don't you think there's a connection? This man Derak came here wanting to see Malcolm.'
'If there is a connection, I'm sure it will come out when we talk to Dr Pastory.'
'But I've asked, and nobody knows where he is.'
Ramsay swallowed a mouthful of roast beef. 'Holly, I am investigating a murder. I have two capable deputies and more help than I really want from the sheriffs of Ventura and Los Angeles counties. Suppose you stick to curing the sick and leave crime to me.'
'God, I hate it when they get condescending.'
'If by 'they' you mean me, I'm sorry that's the way it sounded to you, but I do have an awful lot on my mind.'
'Isn't kidnapping a big enough crime to get some attention?'
'Kidnapping? You're talking about Malcolm?'
'Who else?'
'As I understand it, that was a fairly routine transfer of a patient from one facility to another.'
'Bullshit!'
Ramsay lowered a forkful of mashed potatoes back to the plate. From a desk drawer he drew a clear plastic folder with several sheets of a printed form inside. The sheets were spattered with a brownish stain.
'I have here,' Ramsay said, 'what they tell me are the official and correct forms for transfer of our patient Malcolm from La Reina County Hospital to some clinic. They are a bit messy because they were found on the desk of the late Dr Qualen, who was more or less lying on top of them.'
'Have you read them?'
'Well,no, but-'
'I have,' Holly snapped. 'And there are some glaring irregularities.'
'How did you get hold of these reports before I did?' Ramsay asked.
'I have friends here. The point is that although Dr Wayne Pastory's name is all over those forms transferring Malcolm to his own clinic, nowhere is the location of that clinic spelled out.'
'So?'
'So I want to know where Malcolm was taken.'
'When Dr Pastory shows up we'll ask him. How about that?'
'Fine, but what makes you think he's going to show up?'
'What happened here this morning won't exactly be a secret by the time the six-o'clock news hits the air,' he said. 'Unless Pastory is a damn fool, he'll show up here voluntarily and give us his version of what happened.'
'Pastory is no fool,' Holly said tightly, 'but he may be something much worse.'
'What does that mean?'
'It means Malcolm could be in real danger. While you sit here waiting for Pastory to stroll in and chat, he could be harming that boy in some dreadful way.'
'Now listen to me, Holly. I know you have a special feeling for Malcolm, but it seems to me you're letting it get in the way of your professional judgement. I will want to question Dr Pastory as a witness, but as far as I know, he has committed no crime. This man called Derak is a bona-fide murder suspect. That is my number one priority, and it's going to stay that way until I have reason to change my thinking. Is that understood?'
She glared at him. 'Oh, absolutely, Mr Sheriff, sir. You just go ahead and play Dirty Harry and hunt down your phantom murderer. I trust you won't mind too much if I do what little I can to try to find a boy who may be in trouble like you've never imagined.'
'Do whatever you want to, Holly,' Gavin said, making an effort to soften his tone. 'But I'll appreciate it if you'll try not to interfere with the investigation.'
She sprang to her feet and glared, fists clenched at her sides. 'Don't worry, Sheriff. I won't come within shouting distance of your precious investigation.'
Without giving him a chance to reply, she spun on her heel and marched out of the office, startling Nevins and Fernandez, who were finishing up their lunches out in the corridor. By the time Ramsay got to the door she was not in sight.
'What did you do to the lady doctor, Sheriff?' Roy Nevins asked. 'She came out of there like her tail feathers was on fire.'
'I asked her to please stay out of the way.'
'Oh. Well.' The deputy nodded as though that explained everything.
When he could postpone it no longer, Ramsay made his way out through the crowded lobby of the hospital. Every third person seemed to be carrying a television minicam on his shoulder. Those that didn't have cameras had tape recorders and phallic microphones which they thrust at anyone who moved within range. When Ramsay appeared they surged toward him like piranha to a goldfish. 'Have you made an arrest, Sheriff?' 'Any suspects?'
'What kind of wounds did the dead man have?' 'Is it true his head was bitten off?' 'Is there a link to the killings last year at Drago?' 'What's your opinion of the werewolf theory?' Ramsay held up a hand like a traffic cop and waited a full minute until the reporters subsided into near silence. He said, 'There have been no arrests. We are following up on several possible suspects. I cannot describe the fatal wounds at this time for fear of jeopardizing the investigation. The victim's head was not bitten off. No connection has been found to any other crimes. In my opinion werewolves exist only in cheap horror movies. Thank you all very much.'
As he started toward the door the reporters crowded in around him, thrusting their ball-headed microphones close to his face, gabbling questions all at the same time.
'Excuse me. I'm sorry. I have a very important meeting that could be vital to the investigation. No, I cannot
