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down.”
    â€œHe’s on behavioral modification and meds, nothing else. So one day last week the patients were lined up for their pills, and Warren gets his from Nurse Lindstrom, swallows them, and grabs a sweater that she’s put over the back of a chair and stuffs it under his shirt. He’s so big that nobody notices another few inches around his middle, and he goes back to the social hall.”
    Marie paused as the waiter brought the coffee, then continued.
    â€œLindstrom finishes giving out the meds and notices her sweater is missing and figures it out fast. She and Myron Gunn find Warren, make him pull up his shirt, and there’s her sweater … predictably loaded with Warren Russell sweat. ”
    â€œOuch,” Ben said.
    â€œOuch is right. So I’ve been helping hand out meds, and I’ve seen all this play out. I figure they’ll take away his social hall privileges or something, but instead of taking him back to his cell, they go the other way, toward the old hydrotherapy room. I follow them, staying far behind, and they go in and close the door. I can’t see what’s happening, but I can hear just fine. Warren’s squealing, and I hear Myron telling him to strip, and Nurse Lindstrom is saying something I can’t make out, and laughing.”
    â€œJeez.”
    â€œA little later I hear a big splash, and I know they’ve put Warren in one of the old hydro tubs, and then he stops squealing for a little while, and then I hear him gasping, a big intake of breath, and he starts crying, and then he’s quiet again.”
    Ben nodded. “Myron’s holding him underwater.”
    â€œThat’s what I figured too,” Marie said. “This happens a few times, until Warren is crying when he’s not gasping for air. Then I hear water splashing, and I know they’re taking him out of the tub, so I leave before they come out.”
    â€œUnbelievable. That’s ‘behavior modification’ with a vengeance. Did you say anything to anyone?”
    â€œYou,” she said, and laughed. “I don’t know what good it would do. Both of them are wedged in there for good, I think. Maybe if they killed a patient, but even then I suspect they’d only get a reprimand.”
    â€œI can’t help but think Dr. Reed would do something about it,” Ben said.
    â€œWhat could he do? It’s Dr. Goldberg’s decision, and he’s a results guy. Myron Gunn and Nurse Lindstrom get the job done. Would Dr. Steiner have more of an impact than Reed? You’ve been here much longer than I have.”
    Ben frowned. “I think Steiner has more influence, but he’s pretty much a yes man. Doesn’t want to rock the boat. After all, he’s next in line when Goldberg retires. The state board decides, but Goldberg’s recommendation would carry a lot of weight.”
    â€œSo Myron and Lindstrom can pretty much dunk patients at will,” Marie said.
    â€œThat’s the extent of it. Unless somebody dunks them. ”
    Marie took a sip of coffee and looked at Ben over the rim of her cup. “Sometimes I think that psychiatry hasn’t advanced all that much in the past fifty years…”

 
    3
    August 17, 1909
    It is with great delight that I put pen to paper to chronicle that the funds have been fully raised to proceed with my life’s dream. I have nothing but the deepest gratitude for those gentlemen of means who have come together into a consortium that will, by this time next year (should all go as planned), permit the doors of the Adolph Ollinger Sanitarium to open to patients near and far.
    The praise that I have for these selfless donors is tempered only by what I detect is their own familial self-interest. It seems to be a sad reality that the children of the wealthy are not always blessed with the original diligence, morality, and work habits that have allowed their parents to achieve such success.