Robin Cook: Toxin

"It is curious," Edgar admitted.

"I called up later and asked specifically where she'd been assigned," Kelly said. "Guess where?"

"I haven't a clue," Edgar said.

"Mercer Meats," Kelly said.

"Interesting," Edgar said. "So how are you going to go about investigating all this?"

"I don't know yet," Kelly said. "Of course I'd love to find the doctor. Seems like I've always been chasing him."

"Well, I've learned to respect your intuition," Edgar said. "So go for it."

"One other thing," Kelly said. "Keep Caroline out of the Onion Ring restaurants, particularly the one on Prairie Highway."

"How come?" Edgar asked. "She loves the food."

"For the moment, let's just say it's my intuition."

"You'll have to tell her yourself," Edgar said.

"I don't have a problem with that," Kelly said.

The door chimes surprised both of them. Kelly glanced at her watch. "Who's here ringing our bell at eight o'clock on a Tuesday?" she questioned.

"Beats me," Edgar said, while getting to his feet. "Let me get it."

"Be my guest," Kelly said.

Kelly rubbed her temples as she gave more thought to Edgar's question about how she would look into this Reggis situation. Without the doctor, it wasn't going to be easy. She tried to remember everything Kim had said when he'd visited on Sunday.

Out in the front hall she heard Edgar talking with someone and being told where to sign. A few minutes later, he returned. He was clutching a manila envelope, staring at the label.

"You got a package," he said. He shook it. Something was moving around freely inside.

"Who's it from?" Kelly asked. She didn't like getting mystery packages.

"There's no return address," Edgar said. "Just the initials KR."

"KR." Kelly repeated. "Kim Reggis?"

Edgar shrugged. "I suppose it's possible."

"Let me see it," Kelly said.

Edgar handed her the package. She felt through the paper. "Well, it doesn't feel dangerous. It feels like a reel of something padded with paper."

"Go ahead and open it," Edgar said.

Kelly tore open the envelope and pulled out a bunch of official-looking forms and a recording tape. Attached to the top of the tape was a Post-it. On it was written: Kelly, You asked for documentation, and here it is. I'll be in touch. Kim Reggis.

"These are all papers from Higgins and Hancock," Edgar said. "With attached descriptions."

Kelly shook her head as she scanned the material. "I have a feeling my investigation just got off to a flying start."

Wednesday, February 11th

The dilapidated, recycled UPS van coughed and sputtered, but the engine kept going. The van climbed a gradual incline after fording across a small stream.

"By golly, that's the deepest that crick's been since I've been in these parts," Bart Winslow said. He and his partner, Willy Brown, were driving along an isolated country road, trying to get back to the main road after picking up a dead pig. It had been raining for almost two days, and the road was awash and the potholes full of muddy water.

"I been thinking," Bart said, after spitting some tobacco juice out the driver's-side window. "Benton Oakly's not going to have much of a farm if his cows keep getting the runs like the one we picked up before the pig."

"Sure as shootin'," Willy said. "But you know, this one's not much sicker than the one we picked up a month ago. What do you say we take it to the slaughterhouse like we did the other one?"

"I suppose," Bart said. "The problem is we gotta drive all the way out to the VNB slaughterhouse in Loudersville."

"Yeah, I know," Willy said. "That TV lady got Higgins and Hancock to close for a couple of weeks for some kind of investigation."

"Well, the good part is that VNB is a hell of a lot less choosey than Higgins and Hancock," Bart said. "Remember that time we sold them those two cows deader than a Thanksgiving turkey right out of the oven?"

"Sure do," Willy said. "When you reckon Higgins and Hancock gonna reopen?"

"I hear by Monday next 'cause they didn't find nothing but a handful of illegal aliens," Bart said.

"Figures," Willy said. "So what you think about this cow we got?"

"Let's do it," Bart said. "Fifty bucks is better'n twenty-five in anybody's book."

A basic requirement for the pursuit of happiness is good health, and the minimum requirement for good health is clean water and uncontaminated food. Human beings as a civilization have been struggling with the former since urbanization. Only in recent times has civil engineering led to sustainable solutions. Tragically, the circumstance with the latter is the opposite. After significant technological progress with food preservation, particularly in regard to refrigeration, we have been losing ground due to the pressure for increased food quantity and lower prices. Intensive farming and animal rearing practices have actually created new, frightful forms of contamination and threaten to spawn more. It is a problem that cries out for attention. For those people who would like to learn more about this serious situation and the havoc it wreaks, I strongly recommend they read:

Fox, Nicols, Spoiled: What Is Happening to Our Food

Supply and Why We Are Increasingly at Risk

(Basic Books, 1997; Penguin, 1998).