“Thanks,” Henry said. “And good night! And the next time you want me for murder, don’t send a couple of prowl cops after me. They might get hurt.”
“Just a sec.”
Henry kept on going.
He had ample appreciation of the humorousness of his predicament. But he was anxious to finish his evening’s duties. The dummy that had led to his arrest was realistic. But they’d used realistic dummies in Civil Defense drills all over the country for years. The tizzie which the mere sight of it had started in Aggie Fleer was evidence of how the general public would react. There ought, he thought, to be more such “wounded” dummies for the public to see. Nowadays Americans whisked out of sight, in ambulances, every injury, every accident case. They hastily wiped up blood when it was spilled. Only doctors and nurses knew, any more, what wounds were. God alone could guess how half a million Aggie Fleers would act if real bombs started bursting over American streets. Take one look at the casualties and blow their tops, he felt sure.
He’d have to emphasize the point in future CD meetings. Do something about it.
Lacey called, “Just a sec.”
Henry spoke his thoughts. “Never did realize how much education folks need. Matter of fact, I hide those dummies myself. Wonder if I should? Maybe there ought to be a permanent display in a downtown department-store window, so people wouldn’t faint if the real thing ever came along. Fat chance of getting a display!” He started through the door.
“I’ve got more to say.” Henry stopped and looked back gloweringly. Lacey said, “I told you, your ‘Minnie’ fell out of your car—”
“Damn it, I was on the way to a rescue drill. I keep Minnie, and two others, in my garage.”
“Yeah. Well, when Billings radioed in they had you, without knowing at the moment who you were, I got another call.”