Robin Cook - Contagion

“Where were you thinking of having dinner?” Terese asked.

Colleen looked at her friend with surprise.

“How about right around the corner at Elaine’s,” Chet said. “About eight o’clock. We might even see a couple of celebrities.”

“I don’t think I can…” Jack began.

“I’m not listening to any excuses from you,” Chet said, interrupting. “You can bowl with that group of nuns another night. Tomorrow you’re having dinner with us.”

Jack was too tired to think. He shrugged.

“It’s decided, then?” Chet said.

Everyone nodded.

Outside of the bar the women climbed into a cab. They offered Chet a ride home, but he said he lived in the neighborhood.

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave that bike here for the night?” Terese asked Jack, who’d finished removing his panoply of locks.

“Not a chance,” Jack said. He threw a leg over his bike and powered out across Second Avenue, waving over his head.

Terese gave the cabdriver the address of the first stop, and the taxi made a left onto Second Avenue and accelerated southward. Colleen, who’d kept her eye on Chet out the back window, turned to face her boss.

“What a surprise,” she said. “Imagine meeting two decent men at a bar. It always seems to happen when you least expect it.”

“They were nice guys,” Terese agreed. “I suppose I was wrong about them being out at the meat market, and thank God they didn’t spout off about sports or the stock market. Generally that’s all men in this city can talk about.”

“What tweaks my funny bone is that my mother has forever been encouraging me to meet a doctor,” Colleen said with a laugh.

“I don’t think either one of them is a typical doctor,” Terese said. “Especially Jack. He’s got a strange attitude. He’s awfully bitter about something, and seems a bit foolhardy. Can you imagine riding a bike around this city?”

“It’s easier than thinking about what they do. Can you imagine dealing with dead people all day?”

“I don’t know,” Terese said. “Mustn’t be too different than dealing with account executives.”

“I have to say you shocked me when you agreed to have dinner tomorrow night,” Colleen said. “Especially with this National Health disaster staring us in the face.”

“But that’s exactly why I did agree,” Terese said. She flashed Colleen a conspiratorial smile. “I want to talk some more with Jack Stapleton. Believe it or not, he actually gave me a great idea for a new ad campaign for National Health! I can’t imagine what his reaction would be if he knew. With his philistine attitude about advertising, he’d probably have a stroke.”

“What’s the idea?” Colleen asked eagerly.

“It involves this plague thing,” Terese said. “Since AmeriCare is National Health’s only real rival, our ad campaign merely has to take advantage of the fact that AmeriCare got plague in its main hospital. As creepy as the situation is, people should want to flock to National Health.”

Colleen’s face fell. “We can’t use plague,” she said.

“Hell, I’m not thinking of using plague specifically,” Terese said. “Just emphasizing the idea of National Health’s hospital being so new and clean. The contrary will be evoked by inference, and it will be the public who will make the association with this plague episode. I know what the Manhattan General is like. I’ve been there. It might have been renovated, but it’s still an old structure. The National Health hospital is the antithesis. I can see ads where people are eating off the floor at National Health, suggesting it’s that clean. I mean, people like the idea that their hospital is new and clean, especially now with all the hullabaloo about bacteria making a comeback and becoming antibiotic-resistant.”

“I like it,” Colleen said. “If that doesn’t increase National Health Care’s market share vis-à-vis AmeriCare, nothing will.”

“I even have thought up a tag line,” Terese said smugly. “Listen: ‘We deserve your trust: Health is our middle name.’ ”

“Excellent! I love it!” Colleen exclaimed. “I’ll get the whole team working on it bright and early.”

The cab pulled up to Terese’s apartment. The women did a high-five before Terese got out.

Leaning back into the cab, Terese said: “Thanks for getting me to go out tonight. It was a good idea for lots of reasons.”

“You’re welcome,” Colleen said, flashing a thumbs-up sign.

As a man of habit, Jack arrived in the vicinity of the medical examiner’s office at the same time each day, give or take five minutes. This particular morning he was ten minutes late since he’d awakened with a slight hangover. He’d not had a hangover in so long, he’d completely forgotten how miserable it made him feel. Consequently he’d stayed in the shower a few minutes longer than usual, and on the slalom down Second Avenue, he’d kept his speed to a more reasonable level.

Crossing First Avenue, Jack saw something he’d never seen before at that time of day. There was a TV truck with its main antennae extended sitting in front of the medical examiner’s building.

Changing his direction a little, he cruised around the truck. No one was in it. Looking up at the front door to the ME’s office, he saw a group of newspeople clustered just over the threshold.

Curious as to what was going on, Jack hustled around to the entrance bay, stashed his bike in the usual place, and went up to the ID room.

As usual Laurie and Vinnie were in their respective seats. Jack said hello but continued through the room to peek out into the lobby area. It was as crowded as he’d ever seen it.

“What the hell’s going on?” Jack asked, turning back to Laurie.

“You of all people should know,” she said. She was busy making up the day’s autopsy schedule. “It’s all about the plague epidemic!”

“Epidemic?” Jack questioned. “Have there been more cases?”

“You haven’t heard?” Laurie questioned. “Don’t you watch morning TV?”

“I don’t have a TV,” Jack admitted. “In my neighborhood owning one is just inviting trouble.”

“Well, two victims came in to us during the night,” Laurie said. “One is for sure plague, or at least presumptive since the hospital did its own fluorescein antibody and it was positive. The other is suspected, since clinically it seemed to be plague despite a negative fluorescein antibody. In addition to that, as I understand it, there are several febrile patients who have been quarantined.”

“This is all happening at the Manhattan General?” Jack asked.

“Apparently,” Laurie said.

“Were these cases direct contacts with Nodelman?” Jack asked.

“I haven’t had time to look into that,” Laurie said. “Are you interested? If you are, I’ll assign them to you.”

“Of course,” Jack said. “Which one is the presumptive plague?”

“Katherine Mueller,” Laurie said. She pushed the patient’s folder toward Jack.

Sitting on the edge of the desk where Laurie was working, Jack opened the folder. He leafed through the papers until he found the investigative report. He pulled it out and began reading. He learned the woman had been brought into the Manhattan General emergency room at four o’clock in the afternoon acutely ill with what was diagnosed to be a fulminant case of plague. She’d died nine hours later despite massive antibiotics.

Jack checked on the woman’s place of employment and wasn’t surprised with what he learned. The woman worked at the Manhattan General. Jack assumed she had to have been a direct contact of Nodelman. Unfortunately the report did not indicate in what department she worked. Jack guessed either nursing or lab.