Chapter 11
Pat Saxon strolled into the cubbyhole which served as a public relations office as Marvin was finishing a conversation on the phone. "Did you see Phoebe?" Pat asked casually.
Marvin seemed preoccupied. "No," he murmured, "but I haven't checked her room. That was Bancroft," he added, irrelevantly, nodding at the phone.
"You called him?" Pat's eyebrows lifted.
Marvin shook his head. "Hell no," he said piously, "the s.o.b. called me. He wants to bring those two creeps here tonight!" He leaned back in his chair, waited for Pat's reaction. Pat just stared at him.
"He called from Washington," Marvin added, taking a cigarette from his pack. "He just happened to mention, like casually, that he thinks he can put Hillside down for a fifty thousand subsidy for research into behavior patterns, that is, patterns of behaviorism." Marvin lit his cigarette and looked at Pat.
The young-looking doctor sank into a chair. "What did you say?" he asked quietly.
"About tonight?" Marvin looked at Pat questioningly. "I told him okay. Bring 'em down."
"I don't want to see Bancroft," Pat spoke abruptly.
"You don't have to," said Marvin, "I'll see him," then he added, "as usual!"
Pat, ignoring the mild rebuke, asked, "What're you going to do with them? What do they think this place is? A damned sideshow ... a peep show?"
"Pretty expensive show," Marvin commented quietly. "I'll let 'em take a look at the Malcolm girls," Marvin murmured as if he were talking to himself. "Ruth on the switchboard tells me that they're entertaining their boyfriends tonight." He grinned, "They may as well entertain Bancroft and his two friends at the same time."
Pat stared at him coldly. "You make it sound so damned crude," he muttered.
Marvin grinned. "But it's not crude the way the Malcolm twins perform. Christ, those kids are real artistes."
"They're such nice girls," Pat began, then he changed his trend of conversation, "I don't like Bancroft and any Tom, Dick, or Harry knowing about our observation passages. You know how careful I am about that. There's only you and Phoebe and myself who have keys!"
"Marianne knows about the passageways," put in Marvin.
"But she doesn't have a key! Anyway, I'm not worried about Marianne, but these people that Bancroft brings. What if they talked? It wouldn't be good, Marv!"
"Bancroft is the one who'd get it in the neck, Pat, not you! That's why he's not liable to shoot off his mouth. And he wouldn't bring anyone here that he didn't think is okay."
Pat seemed to be thinking about what Marvin had said when the public relations man added, "Another thing you may be forgetting, we're not under any State law or regulation here! This is Mexico and we own all this land!" He smiled. "I should know, I raised the money for the purchase." He looked at Pat's face then added, "All those years ago ..."
"That's true," Pat was thoughtful. "About this subsidy ... It's always been a straight allocation before. Isn't there something which says that the department making the subsidy can send inspectors or something like that to check on the project whenever they feel like it?"
"Only when the location is under State jurisdiction," Marvin spoke as if he'd been studying up on the subject. "Like I was saying, we're not. We're outside their area of control." He glanced through the window at the vast grounds, then said, "They wouldn't let anyone in at the gate if we vetoed them. And I can't see them climbing over that ten-foot fence!" he grinned.
Pat winced. Just the thought of the fence offended him. The thick, high fence which completely surrounded Hillside.
"The guards wouldn't let 'em in," said Marvin, irritating Pat even more.
"They're not guards," Pat snapped, "they're gatemen!"
Marvin laughed out loud. "Sure, very subtle difference!" He grinned at Pat's expression. "I know how you hate that fence, Pat, but you know that we had to have it. We couldn't have guests wandering out whenever they felt like it. We're responsible for them!"
"This isn't a jail or detention institute," Pat muttered.
"No, but even so, most of our guests are here because of suspected antisocial tendencies ..." Marvin let his voice trail off.
Pat stared at Marvin in annoyance. He didn't like to even think of Hillside as anything but a research center. "Well," he got to his feet, "I'll leave it to you." He walked to the door, adding before he left, "Let me know when Bancroft and his friends arrive. I want to be out of the way!"
Marvin stared at the doorway after Pat had left, then shook his head and grinned wryly. He sure got a lot of appreciation for getting an extra fifty thousand dollars for operating expenses!