Robin Cook: Toxin

"Pay dirt!" Kim said happily. "It's the whole group of papers Marsha talked about." Kim spread the papers out so that he could see them all. "Here's the purchase invoice from Bart Winslow for what must have been a sick cow."

Kim glanced through the other papers, finally picking one up. "Here's what I'm looking for. It's a Process Deficiency Report on the same cow."

"What does it say?" Tracy asked.

"I'm reading it," Kim said. After a moment he added: "Well, the mystery has been solved. The last cow's head fell off the rail onto the floor. Of course, I know what that means after the work I've been doing today. It probably fell in its own manure and then went in to be butchered for hamburger meat. This cow could have been infected with the E. coli. That's consistent with what you found out from Sherring Labs this afternoon indicating that the patty made from the meat butchered on January ninth was heavily contaminated."

In the next instant, Kim was startled enough to let out a whimper. To his utter shock the Process Deficiency Report was ripped from his hands. He spun around to find himself facing Elmer Conrad. While he'd been talking, he'd not heard the man come into the room.

"What the hell are you doing with these papers?" Elmer demanded. His broad face had become beet-red.

Kim felt his heart race. Not only had he been caught looking at confidential documents, but he had the microphone in his right ear. To try to keep the wire out of Elmer's line of sight, he kept his head turned to the right, looking at Elmer out of the corner of his eye.

"You better answer me, boy," Elmer growled.

"They were on the floor," Kim said, desperately trying to think of something. "I was trying to put them back."

Elmer glanced at the open drawer to the file cabinet, then back at Kim. "Who were you talking to?"

"Was I talking?" Kim asked innocently.

"Don't mess with me, boy," Elmer warned.

Kim put his hand on his head then gestured ineffectually at Elmer, but no words came out of his mouth. He was trying to think of something clever to say but couldn't.

"Tell him you were talking to yourself," Tracy whispered.

"Okay," Kim said. "I was talking to myself."

Elmer looked askance at Kim, almost the same way Kim was looking at Elmer.

"You sounded like you were having a goddamn conversation," Elmer said.

"I was," Kim offered. "Just with myself. I do it all the time when I'm alone."

"You're one weird dude," Elmer said. "What's wrong with your neck?"

Kim rubbed the left side of his neck with his left hand. "It's a little stiff," he said. "Too much mopping, I guess."

"Well, you got some more to do," Elmer said. "Remember those two restrooms next door here? Remember I told you that you had to clean them."

"I guess that did slip my mind," Kim said. "Sorry, but I can get right to it."

"I don't want you doing a crappy job," Elmer said. "So take your time even if you have to work past eleven. Understand?"

"They'll be pristine," Kim promised.

Elmer tossed the Process Deficiency Report onto the table and roughly pushed all the papers together. While he was occupied, Kim pulled the earphone out of his ear and tucked it under his shirt. It felt good to straighten his neck out.

"We'll leave these papers for the secretaries to deal with," Elmer said. He reached over to the file cabinet and pushed the open drawer shut. "Now get the hell out of here. You're not supposed to be in here in the first place."

Kim preceded Elmer out of the room. Elmer hesitated at the door to look around one final time. Only then did he put out the light and close the door. Taking out a large ring of keys, he locked it.

Kim was busy rinsing out his mop when Elmer turned to him. "I'm going to keep my eye on you, boy," Elmer warned. "And I'm going to come back and inspect these two restrooms after you're done. So don't cut corners."

"I'll do my best," Kim said.

Elmer gave him one final disapproving look before heading back toward the lunchroom.

Kim slipped his earphone back into his ear as soon as Elmer disappeared from view.

"Did you hear that whole exchange?" Kim asked.

"Of course I heard it," Tracy said. "Have you had enough of this nonsense now? Come on out!"

"No, I want to try to get those papers," Kim said. "The problem is the bum locked the door."

"Why do you want them?" Tracy asked with exasperation.

"It's something more to show Kelly Anderson," Kim said.

"We already have the results from the lab," Tracy said. "That should be enough for Kelly Anderson to make a case for a recall. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Of course," Kim said. "At a minimum, Mercer Meats' entire January twelfth production has to be recalled. But those papers also show how the industry is willing to buy sick cows, avoid inspection, and then allow a grossly soiled cow head to continue in production."

"Do you think that was how Becky got sick?" Tracy asked emotionally.

"There's a good chance." Kim said with equal emotion. "That and the fact that her burger wasn't cooked through."

"It makes you realize how tenuous life is that it could be snuffed out by something so trivial as a cow's head falling on the floor and a hamburger not cooked enough."

"It also underlines the importance of what we're doing here," Kim said.

"How do you think you can get the papers now that the record-room door is locked?" Tracy asked.

"I don't know exactly," Kim admitted. "But the door has a thin piece of plywood covering a hole. It probably wouldn't be too hard to knock it off. But it will have to wait until I make a stab at these two restrooms. I expect Elmer to wander back here in a few minutes, so I better get busy."

Kim looked at the two doors. They faced each other across the hall. He pushed open the men's room door. Careful to avoid tipping over his bucket, he maneuvered it over the raised threshold and onto the tile. He gave it a shove into the room and let the door close behind him.

The room was a generous size with two toilet stalls and two urinals on the right and two sinks with mirrors over them to the left. There was a series of coat hooks just inside the door. The only other objects in the room were two paper towel dispensers and a trash container.

In the middle of the far wall was a window that looked out onto the parking lot.

"At least this men's room isn't very dirty," Kim said. "I had fears that it was going to look like the one on the kill floor."

"I wish I could come in there and help," Tracy said.

"I wouldn't mind that at all," Kim said.

Kim grabbed the handle of the mop. Stepping on the wringer's foot pedal, he wrung out the mop head. Then he walked over to the window and started mopping.

The door to the bathroom burst open with enough force for its knob to crack the wall tile. The sound and the movement shocked Kim, and his head shot up. To his utter dismay he now found himself staring at the man who had attacked him previously. Once again the man was brandishing a kill-floor knife.

The man's lips slowly curled back into a cruel smile. "We meet again, Doctor. Only this time there will be no police and no woman to help you."

"Who are you?" Kim demanded, eager for the man to continue talking. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"My name is Carlos. I've come to kill you."

"Kim, Kim!" Tracy shouted in Kim's ear. "What's going on?"

To help him think, Kim tore the earphone from his ear. Now Tracy 's frantic voice sounded as if she were yelling from a great distance.

Carlos took a step into the room, while holding up the knife so that Kim could appreciate its size and curving shape. The abused door swung shut.

Kim had a hold of the mop and he instinctively raised it.

Carlos laughed. To him the idea of a mop against a kill-floor knife was ludicrous.