Robin Cook - Contagion

A laboratory tech eventually came out and informed Jack that Dr. Martin Cheveau would see him now.

“Thanks for seeing me so promptly,” Jack said as he entered the office. Despite his best intentions he couldn’t avoid a touch of sarcasm.

“I’m a busy man,” Martin said, not bothering to stand up.

“I can well imagine,” Jack said. “With the string of rare infectious diseases emanating from this hospital on a daily basis, I’d think you’d be putting in overtime.”

“Dr. Stapleton,” Martin said in a controlled voice. “I have to tell you that I find your attitude distinctly disagreeable.”

“I find yours confusing,” Jack said. “On my first visit you were the picture of hospitality. On my second visit, you were just the opposite.”

“Unfortunately I don’t have time for this conversation,” Martin said. “Is there something in particular you wanted to say to me?”

“Obviously,” Jack said. “I didn’t come over here just for abuse. I wanted to ask your professional opinion about how you think three rare, arthropod-borne diseases have mysteriously occurred in this hospital. I’ve been cultivating my own opinion, but as the director of the lab I’m curious about yours.”

“What do you mean three diseases?” Martin asked.

“I just got confirmation that a patient named Lagenthorpe who expired here in the General last night had Rocky Mountain spotted fever.”

“I don’t believe you,” Martin said.

Jack eyed the man and tried to decide if he was a good actor or truly surprised.

“Well then, let me ask you a question,” Jack said. “What would I accomplish by coming over here and telling you something that wasn’t true? Do you think of me as some sort of health-care provocateur?”

Martin didn’t answer. Instead he picked up the phone and paged Dr. Mary Zimmerman.

“Calling in reinforcements?” Jack asked. “Why can’t you and I have a talk?”

“I’m not sure you are capable of normal conversation,” Martin said.

“Good technique,” Jack commented. “When defense doesn’t work, switch to offense. The problem is, strategies won’t change the facts. Rickettsias are extremely dangerous in the laboratory. Maybe we should make sure whoever handled Lagenthorpe’s specimens did so with proper precautions.”

Martin pressed his intercom button and paged his chief microbiology tech, Richard Overstreet.

“Another thing I’d like to discuss,” Jack said. “On my first visit here you told me how discouraging it was to run your lab with the budgets foisted on you by AmeriCare. On a scale of one to ten, how disgruntled are you?”

“What are you implying?” Martin demanded ominously.

“At the moment I’m not implying anything,” Jack said. “I’m just asking.”

The phone rang and Martin picked it up. It was Dr. Mary Zimmerman. Martin asked her if she could come down to the lab since something important had just come up.

“The problem as I see it is that the probability of these three illnesses popping up as they have is close to zero,” Jack said. “How would you explain it?”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Martin snarled.

“But I think you have to consider it,” Jack said.

Richard Overstreet appeared in the doorway dressed as he’d been before, in a white lab coat over surgical scrubs. He appeared harried.

“What is it, Chief?” he asked. He nodded a greeting to Jack, who returned the gesture.

“I’ve just learned a patient by the name of Lagenthorpe expired from Rocky Mountain spotted fever,” Martin said gruffly. “Find out who got the samples and who processed them.”

Richard stood for a moment, obviously shocked by the news. “That means we had rickettsia in the lab,” he said.

“I’m afraid so,” Martin said. “Get right back to me.” Richard vanished and Martin turned back to Jack. “Now that you have brought us this happy news, perhaps you could do us the favor and leave.”

“I’d prefer to hear your opinion as to the origin of these diseases,” Jack said.

Martin’s face flushed, but before he could respond Dr. Mary Zimmerman appeared at his door.

“What can I do for you, Martin?” she asked. She started to tell him that she’d just been paged to the ER when she caught sight of Jack. Her eyes narrowed. She was obviously no happier than Martin to see Jack.

“Howdy, Doctor,” Jack said cheerfully.

“I was assured we would not see you again,” Dr. Zimmerman said.

“You can never believe everything you hear,” Jack said.

Just then Richard returned, clearly distraught. “It was Nancy Wiggens,” he blurted out. “She’s the one who got the sample and processed it herself. She called in sick this morning.”

Dr. Zimmerman consulted a note she held in her hand. “Wiggens is one of the patients I’ve just been called to see in the ER,” she said. “Apparently she’s suffering from some sort of fulminant infection.”

“Oh, no!” Richard said.

“What’s going on here?” Dr. Zimmerman demanded.

“Dr. Stapleton just brought news that a patient of ours died from Rocky Mountain spotted fever,” Martin said. “Nancy was exposed.”

“Not here in the lab,” Richard said. “I’ve been a bear about safety. Ever since the plague case I have insisted all infectious material be handled in the biosafety III cabinet. If she were exposed it had to be from the patient.”

“That’s not likely,” Jack said. “The only other possibility is that the hospital is lousy with ticks.”

“Dr. Stapleton, your comments are tasteless and inappropriate,” Dr. Zimmerman said.

“They are a lot worse than that,” Martin said. “Just before you got here, Dr. Zimmerman, he slanderously suggested that I had something to do with the spread of these latest illnesses.”

“That’s not true,” Jack corrected. “I was merely implying that the idea of deliberate spread has to be considered when the probability of them occurring by chance is so negligible. It only makes sense. What’s wrong with you people?”

“I think such thoughts are the product of a paranoid mind,” Dr. Zimmerman said. “And frankly I don’t have time for this nonsense. I’ve got to get to the ER. In addition to Miss Wiggens, there are two other employees with the same severe symptoms. Good-bye, Dr. Stapleton!”

“Just a minute,” Jack said. “Let me guess what areas these two other stricken employees work in. Could they be from nursing and central supply?”

Dr. Zimmerman, who was already several steps away from Martin’s door, paused and looked back at Jack. “How did you know that?” she asked.

“I’m beginning to see a pattern,” Jack said. “I can’t explain it, but it’s there. I mean, the nurse is regrettable but understandable. But someone from central supply?”

“Listen, Dr. Stapleton,” Dr. Zimmerman said. “Perhaps we’re in your debt for once again having alerted us to a dangerous disease. But we will take over from here, and we certainly don’t need any of your paranoid delusions. Good day, Dr. Stapleton.”

“Hold on a minute,” Martin called out to Dr. Zimmerman. “I’ll come with you to the ER. If this is rickettsial disease I want to be sure all samples are handled safely.”

Martin grabbed his long white lab coat from a hook behind the door and ran after Dr. Zimmerman.

Jack shook his head in disbelief. Every visit he’d made to the General had been strange, and this one was no exception. On previous occasions he’d been chased out. This time he’d been all but deserted.

“Do you really think these illnesses could have been spread deliberately?” Richard asked.

Jack shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what to think. But there certainly has been some defensive behavior, particularly on the part of those two who just left. Tell me, is Dr. Cheveau generally mercurial? He seemed to turn on me rather suddenly.”