There was another door down the hall, and this one opened onto a small, dimly lit room where there was one relatively modern computer and printer on a plain wooden table. I also noted a phone jack in the wall. A sense of foreshadowing darkened my thoughts even before Dr Ensor spoke.
‘This was perhaps where Carrie spent most of her free time,’ she said. ‘As you no doubt know, she has an extensive background in computers. She was extremely good about encouraging other patients to learn, and the PC was her idea. She suggested we find donors of used equipment, and we now have one computer and printer on each floor.’
I walked over to the terminal and sat down in front of it. Hitting a key, I turned off the screen saver and looked at icons that told me what programs were available.
‘When patients worked in here,’ I said, ‘were they supervised?’
‘No. They were shown in and the door was shut and locked. An hour later, they were shown back to their ward.’ She grew thoughtful. ‘I’d be the first to admit that I was impressed with how many of the patients have started learning word processing, and in some instances, spread sheets.’
I went into America Online and was prompted for a username and password. The director watched what I was doing.
‘They absolutely had no access to the Internet,’ she said.
‘How do we know that?’
‘The computers aren’t hooked up to it.’
‘But they do have modems,’ I said. ‘Or at least this one does. It’s simply not connecting because there’s no telephone line plugged into the telephone jack.’
I pointed to the tiny receptacle in the wall, then turned around to face her.
‘Any chance a telephone line might have disappeared from somewhere?’ I asked. ‘Perhaps from one of the offices? Susan Blaustein’s office, for example?’
The director glanced away, her face angry and distressed as she began to see what I was getting at.
‘God,’ she muttered.
‘Of course, she may have gotten that from the outside. Perhaps from whoever delivered her snacks from the store?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘The point is, there’s a lot we don’t know, Dr Ensor. We don’t know, for example, what the hell Carrie was really doing when she was in here. She could have been in and out of chat rooms, putting feelers out in personals, finding pen pals. I’m sure you’ve kept up with the news enough to know how many crimes are committed on the Internet? Pedophilia, rape, homicide, child pornography.’
‘That’s why this was closely supervised,’ she said. ‘Or supposed to have been.’
‘Carrie could have planned her escape this way. And you say she started working with the computer how long ago?’
‘About a year. After a long run of ideal behavior.’
‘Ideal behavior,’ I repeated.
I thought of the cases in Baltimore, Venice Beach, and more recently in Warrenton. I wondered if it were possible that Carrie might have met up with her accomplice through e-mail, through a Web site or a chat room. Could it be that she committed computer crimes during her incarceration? Might she have been working behind the scenes, advising and encouraging a psychopath who stole human faces? Then she escaped, and from that point on her crimes were in person.
‘Is there anyone who’s been discharged from Kirby in the past year who was an arsonist, especially someone with a history of homicide? Anyone Carrie might have come to know? Perhaps someone in one of her classes?’ I asked, just to be sure.
Dr Ensor turned off the overhead light and we returned to the hall.
‘No one comes to mind,’ she said. ‘Not of the sort you’re talking about. I will add that a peace officer was always present.’
‘And male and female patients did not mix during recreational times.’
‘No. Never. Men and women are completely segregated.’
Although I did not know for a fact that Carrie had a male accomplice, I suspected it, and I recalled what Benton had written in his notes at the end, about a white male between the ages of twenty-eight and forty-five. Peace officers, who were simply guards not wearing guns, might have insured that order was maintained in the classrooms, but I doubted seriously they would have had any idea that Carrie was making contact on the Internet. We boarded the elevator again, this time getting off on the third floor.