Mind Switch by Lorne L. Bentley Read Free Book Online Page A

another transitional delay, never envisioning that it could be anything beyond that.
    Fred entered the spacious multi-theater lobby. He was a loyal movie customer, finding a weekly film to be a necessary escape from the stress of his work. He found the image in front of him a unique contrast to what he normally encountered when he entered the theater. The refreshment stand looked strange, being unattended when lines of at least twenty people were what Fred was used to seeing.  
    A policeman recognized Fred immediately and directed him to theater number five. A small man dressed in an official theater employee’s uniform stood to the policeman’s left. Fred immediately recognized him as Carl, the afternoon ticket taker.
    Fred entered theater five and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkened room.  
    In the confined theater room, the moans of the wounded seemed deafening. He glanced around the theater; one policeman was in sight. Fred showed him his badge, and asked why the lights were not on.  
    The policeman identified himself as Patrolman Steward and apologized that he had not recognized Fred since he was new to the force, having just graduated from the academy. Stewart said, “I guess the lights were not on because when the shooting started the projectionist took off. I suspect turning on the lights was the last thing on his mind.”  
    Fred nodded, and as his eyes started to adjust to the dim light, he noted that victims were lying all over the theater. It appeared that many, if not all, were dead. The ambulance from Memorial Hospital had not yet arrived. In fact very little time had elapsed since the bank victims had been rushed to the local hospital. Jim hoped that there were numerous doctors specializing in trauma care on standby at the emergency room, because they were going to need all the expertise they could muster.  
    Fred asked if anyone knew what had happened to the assailant.  
      “From what I have been able to determine, he took off right after he had shot up the room. I’m sorry, but that’s all I know so far.”  
    Fred sent Steward to the projection booth area to find the light switch. Looking over the scene, he was shocked by the macabre commonality with the brutal shooting at the bank. A major difference was that, apparently, this time the shooter had immediately flown the scene.  
    When Fred’s eyes fully adjusted to the bank of overhead lights, he realized for the first time that the horror he first observed in the darkened theater was much greater in the clarity of full light. At least ten bodies were slumped in their seats in all parts of the theater. Their lack of movement provided clear evidence that they would never enjoy another afternoon movie again. Fred guessed that another five were slightly injured; a scattered few traumatized victims seemed to be untouched. In the confined theater, the moans of the wounded seemed deafening.
    Fred was not sure what to make of the unreal scene in front of him. Paul had just arrived in the theater. Fred knew that Paul was sure to pass on his “expertise” at the first opportunity.  
    Paul said, “It looks like you have a bit of a double problem on your hands. I just got back to town and went directly to the County Bank where I learned what had happened.”
    With characteristically limited information supported by even fewer facts, Paul immediately deduced that in the case of the bank, it had been a failed robbery attempt. He advised Fred that it was an open and shut case and that Fred should consider himself lucky to have been the first to arrive. Now Fred could take full credit for the assailant’s quick capture and the case’s imminent solution.  
    Fred found it strange that Paul seemed totally oblivious to the macabre environment all around him. Fred said, in a forced neutral tone, “If it was an attempted robbery, why did this individual walk to the middle of the bank lobby and start firing randomly at customers as well as bank