He was alone, locked up like a dangerous madman!
By the head of the narrow bed that resembled something antiseptic in a barracks, Kane saw the black eye of a phone peeking out of a niche in the wall.
He pulled it out and jabbed at a button. His throat felt tight and he could feel the pounding of his heart as he leaned against the wall.
"This is Professor Kane, room 2004."
"Yes, we're here."
"And I'm here! In this ridiculous closet. I'm locked in. There must be some sort of mistake. The window—"
"We'll be all right. We'll be fine in a little while."
"Look here—connect me with the cocktail lounge. I want to speak with Phil Nordson. Yes, he's there—"
He heard nothing, absolutely nothing, except his own heart. No clock in the room either. The walls and ceiling had a peculiar grained look.