Free Stranger in Town by Brett Halliday Page A

categorical answer, though my personal opinion would be in the negative in this particular case at least. During the period I had Miss Buttrell under observation I judged her to possess a quiet, sound temperament, with a high degree of intelligence. Not at all the type to work herself up into hysteria or hallucinations.”
    “How did she react to her father’s appearance?”
    “Passively. She didn’t recognize him, of course. She was certainly pleased when he announced his identity and that he had come to take her home. It was a terrible strain, you know, to be at the hospital completely unrecognized. With no knowledge of who you are… how you got there… whether you will ever be reunited with your family.”
    “There was no question whatsoever about Mr. Buttrell’s identification of her?” asked Shayne casually.
    The doctor peered across the desk at him curiously. “None whatever. Her physical appearance was unaltered. She was his own daughter whom he had seen just two days before. How could there be any possible question?”
    “I guess there couldn’t,” sighed Shayne. “I was just thinking about the newspaper picture he identified her from. I’ve seen it, and like most photos reproduced in papers, it’s quite blurred and isn’t a terribly good likeness.”
    “That’s quite true. In fact, until he arrived and saw the girl in the flesh, Mr. Buttrell confided to me he had not been at all sure it was his daughter. I felt he was to be commended for not hesitating to make the long drive up here to relieve his parental anxiety. A less devoted father might easily have been satisfied with a telephone call which would not, of course, have proved anything since there was no physical mark on her body positively identifying her. As a matter of fact, I believe there were two other such telephone calls from persons in other cities who thought they had recognized the newspaper picture.”
    “Is that so? Before or after Mr. Buttrell had identified her?”
    “One was before, I believe, and the other came through an hour or so after they had left the hospital for Miami. The first caller was not referred to me because the girl they were looking for had a large birthmark which Miss Buttrell did not have, but the second was so insistent that it must be his daughter that I had to talk to him myself to convince him she could not be a Miss Henderson from Orlando.”
    “Orlando? Some girl missing from there?”
    “A student at Rollins College in Winter Park. Mr. Henderson is a professor there but lives in Orlando. He was quite relieved when I convinced him it was a case of mistaken identity on his part. Now, Mr. Shayne, if you have any further questions I suggest you make them to the police who have made a thorough investigation into the circumstances surrounding Miss Buttrell’s injury.” He pushed back his swivel chair and stood up. “Please remember me to Mr. Buttrell when you report back to him, and remind him that I am most interested in hearing the details of his daughter’s ultimate recovery.”
    Shayne assured him that the next time he talked with Mr. Buttrell he would deliver Dr. Philbrick’s message, and he let himself out, smiling reassuringly at the nurse who was typing in the outer office as he went through.

 
8
     
    AT THE HOTEL there was a message for Shayne to call Timothy Rourke in Miami. The detective hurried up to his room to put the call through.
    “I don’t know what the deal is with your friend Amos Buttrell,” Rourke told him when he came on. “But he definitely ain’t.”
    “Ain’t what?”
    “Not registered at the Roney Plaza and hasn’t been. No mistake on that, Mike. I know one of the assistant managers, and that’s straight. What’s more, there’s nobody named Buttrell listed in either the Miami or Miami Beach directories. And I went back through the issues of both papers the last few days on the chance I missed the amnesia story you mentioned. I found two short dispatches from