document. "This," he said, "is a
court order, instructing you to hand over to us the person of one
William Logan, herein identified and described." He waved it at the
Doctor.

"That's your William Logan," he said, "only now he's ours."

Dr. Dowson took the papers and put in some time frowning at them. Then
he looked up again at Malone. "I assume that I have some discretion in
this matter," he said. "And I wonder if you realize just how ill Mr.
Logan is? We have his case histories here, and we have worked with him
for some time."

Barbara Wilson said: "But--"

"I might say that we are beginning to understand his illness," Dr.
Dowson said. "I honestly don't think it would be proper to transfer
this work to another group of therapists. It might set his illness
back--cause, as it were, a relapse. All our work could easily be
nullified."

"Please, Doctor," Barbara Wilson began.

"I'm afraid the court order's got to stand," Malone said. Privately,
he felt sorry for Dr. Dowson, who was, obviously enough, a
conscientious man trying to do the best he could for his patient. But-

"I'm sorry, Dr. Dowson," he said. "We'll expect that you send all of
your data to the government psychiatrists--and, naturally, any concern
for the patient's welfare will be our concern also. The FBI isn't
anxious for its workers to get the reputation of careless men." He
paused, wondering what other bone he could throw the man. "I have no
doubt that the St. Elizabeth's men will be happy to accept your
cooperation," he said at last. "But, I'm afraid that our duty is
clear. William Logan goes with us."

Dr. Dowson looked at them sourly. "Does he have to get dressed up like
a masquerade, too?" Before Malone could answer, the psychiatrist
added: "Anyhow, I don't even know you're FBI men. After all, why
should I comply with orders from a group of men, dressed insanely,
whom I don't even know?"

Malone didn't say anything. He just got up and walked to a phone on a
small table, near the wall. Next to it was a door, and Malone wondered
uncomfortably what was behind it. Maybe Dr. Dowson had a small arsenal
there, to protect his patients and prevent people from pirating them.

He looked back at the set and dialed Burris' private number in
Washington. When the Director's face appeared on the screen, Malone
said: "Mr. Burris, will you please identify me to Dr. Dowson?" He
looked over at Dowson. "You recognize Mr. Andrew J. Burris, I
suppose?" he said.