Robin Cook - Contagion

“He’s always been a gentleman with me,” Richard said.

Jack got to his feet. “It must be me, then,” he said. “And I suppose our relations won’t improve after today. Such is life. Anyway, I’d better be going. I sure hope Nancy is okay.”

“You and me both,” Richard said.

Jack wandered out of the lab debating what to do next. He thought about either going to the emergency room to see about the three sick patients or heading up to central supply for another visit. He decided on the emergency room. Even though Dr. Zimmerman and Dr. Cheveau had headed down there, Jack thought the chance of another run-in was remote, given the size of the ER and the constant activity there.

As soon as he arrived he detected a general panic. Charles Kelley was anxiously conferring with several other administrators. Then Clint Abelard came dashing through the main ambulance entry only to disappear down the central corridor.

Jack went over to one of the nurses who was busy behind the main counter. He introduced himself and asked if the hubbub was about the three sick hospital staff.

“It most certainly is,” she said. “They’re trying to decide how best to isolate them.”

“Any diagnosis?” Jack asked.

“I just heard they suspect Rocky Mountain spotted fever,” the nurse said.

“Pretty scary,” Jack said.

“Very,” the nurse said. “One of the patients is a nurse.”

Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw Kelley approaching. Jack quickly faced away. Kelley came to the desk and asked the nurse for the phone.

Jack left the bustling ER. He thought about going up to central supply, but decided against it. Having come close to another confrontation with Charles Kelley, he thought it best to head back to the office. Although he hadn’t accomplished anything, at least he was leaving on his own volition.

“Uh-oh! Where have you been?” Chet asked as Jack came into their office.

“Over at the General,” Jack admitted. He started organizing the clutter on his desk.

“At least you must have behaved yourself; there haven’t been any frantic calls from the front office.”

“I was a good boy,” Jack said. “Well, reasonably good. The place is in an uproar. They have another outbreak. This one is Rocky Mountain spotted fever. Can you believe it?”

“That’s incredible,” Chet said.

“That’s my feeling exactly,” Jack said. He went on to tell Chet how he’d implied to the head of the lab that outbreaks of three rare, infectious, arthropod-borne diseases in as many days couldn’t occur naturally.

“I bet that went over well,” Chet said.

“Oh, he was indignant,” Jack said. “But then he got preoccupied with some fresh cases and forgot about me.”

“I’m surprised you weren’t thrown out again,” Chet said. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

“Because I’m convinced that there’s ‘something rotten in the state of Denmark,’ ” Jack said. “But enough about me. How did your case go?”

Chet gave a short, scornful laugh. “And to think I used to like gunshot cases,” he said. “This one is kicking up a storm. Three of the five bullets entered through the back.”

“That’s going to give the police department a headache,” Jack said.

“And me too,” Chet said. “Oh, by the way, I got a call from Colleen. She wants you and me to come by their studio when we leave work tonight. Listen to this: They want our opinion about some ads. What do you say?”

“You go,” Jack said. “I’ve got to get some of these cases of mine signed out. I’m so far behind it’s scaring me.”

“But they want both of us,” Chet said. “Colleen specifically said that. In fact, she said they particularly wanted you there because you had helped already. Come on, it will be fun. They are going to show us a bunch of sketches outlining some potential TV commercials.”

“Is that really your idea of fun?” Jack asked.

“Okay,” Chet admitted. “I’ve an ulterior motive. I’m enjoying spending time with Colleen. But they want both of us. Help me out.”

“All right,” Jack said. “But for the life of me I don’t understand why you think you need me.”

Jack had insisted on working late. Chet had obliged by fetching Chinese takeout so Jack could continue. Once Jack got started, he hated to stop. By eight-thirty Colleen had called, wondering where they were. Chet had to nag Jack to get him to turn off his microscope and lay down his pen.

The next problem was Jack’s bike. After much discussion it was decided that Chet would take a taxi and Jack would ride as he normally did. They then met in front of Willow and Heath after having arrived almost simultaneously.

A night watchman opened the door for them and made them sign in. They boarded the only functioning elevator, and Jack promptly pressed the eleventh floor.

“You really were here,” Chet said.

“I told you I was,” Jack said.

“I thought you were pulling my leg,” Chet remarked.

When the doors opened Chet was as surprised as Jack had been the night before. The studio was in full swing, as if it were still sometime between nine and five, instead of almost nine in the evening.

The two men stood for a few minutes watching the bustle. They were totally ignored.

“Some welcoming party,” Jack commented.

“Maybe someone should tell them it’s after quitting time,” Chet said.

Jack peered into Colleen’s office. The lights were on but no one was there. Turning around, he recognized Alice toiling at her drawing board. He walked over to her, but she didn’t look up.

“Excuse me?” Jack said. She was working with such concentration he hated to bother her. “Hello, hello.”

Finally Alice’s head bobbed up, and when she caught sight of him, her face reflected instant recognition.

“Oh, gosh, sorry,” she said, wiping her hands on a towel. “Welcome!” She acted self-conscious; she’d not seen them arrive as she stood and motioned for them to follow her. “Come on! I’m supposed to take you down to the arena.”

“Uh-oh,” Chet said. “That doesn’t sound good. They must think we’re Christians.”

Alice laughed. “Creatives are sacrificed in the arena, not Christians,” she explained.

Terese and Colleen greeted them with air kisses: the mere touching of cheeks accompanied by a smacking sound. It was the kind of ritual that made Jack feel distinctly uncomfortable.

Terese got right to business. She had the men sit at the table while she and Colleen began putting storyboards in front of them, maintaining a running commentary on what the storyboards represented.

Both Jack and Chet were entertained from the start. They were particularly taken by the humorous sketches involving Oliver Wendell Holmes and Joseph Lister visiting the National Health hospital and inspecting the hospital’s handwashing protocols. At the conclusion of each commercial these famous characters in the history of medicine commented on how much more scrupulously the National Health hospital followed their teachings than that “other” hospital.

“Well, there you have it,” Terese said after the last storyboard was explained and withdrawn. “What do you men think?”

“They’re cute,” Jack admitted. “And probably effective. But they are hardly worth the money that’s going to be spent on them.”

“But they deal with something associated with the quality of care,” Terese said defensively.

“Barely,” Jack said. “The National Health subscribers would be better off if the millions spent on this were put into actual health care.”

“Well, I love them,” Chet said. “They’re so fresh and delightfully humorous. I think they’re great.”