Robin Cook - Contagion

Sitting down at his desk, Jack got all the folders together plus his notes and looked up the time of death of each of the women victims from central supply. To date, central supply had lost four people. Jack imagined that the department head would have to be actively recruiting to keep up with that type of attrition.

Next Jack looked up the time of death of each of the other infectious cases. For the times of death of the few he’d not autopsied, he called down to Bart Arnold, the chief PA.

When Jack had all the information it became immediately apparent that with each outbreak, it had been the woman from central supply to be the last to succumb. That suggested, but certainly didn’t prove, that in each instance those from central supply were the last to become infected. Jack asked himself what that meant, but couldn’t come up with an answer. Still, it was an extremely curious detail.

“I have to go back to the General,” Jack said suddenly. He stood up.

Chet didn’t even bother to look up. “Do what you have to do,” he said with resignation. “Not that my opinion counts.”

Jack pulled on his bomber jacket. “Don’t take it personally,” he said. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve got to go. I’ve got to look into this strange central supply connection. It could just be a coincidence, I agree, but it seems unlikely.”

“What about Bingham and what about those gang members Laurie mentioned?” Chet asked. “You’re taking a lot of risk.”

“Such is life,” Jack said. He gave Chet a tap on the shoulder on his way to the hallway. Jack had just reached the threshold when his phone rang. He debated whether to take the time to answer it. It was usually someone from one of the labs.

“Want me to get it?” Chet offered when he saw Jack hesitate.

“No, I’m here, and I might as well,” Jack said. He returned to his desk and picked up the receiver.

“Thank God you are there!” Terese said with obvious relief. “I was terrified I wouldn’t get you, at least not in time.”

“What on earth is the matter?” Jack asked. His pulse quickened. He could tell by the sound of her voice that she was acutely upset.

“There’s been a catastrophe,” she said. “I have to see you immediately. Can I come over to your office?”

“What happened?” Jack asked.

“I can’t talk now,” Terese said. “I can’t risk it with everything that has happened. I’ve just got to see you.”

“We’re sort of in the middle of an emergency ourselves,” Jack said. “And I’m just on my way out.”

“It’s very important,” Terese said. “Please!”

Jack immediately relented, especially with Terese’s selfless response to his emergency Friday night.

“All right,” Jack said. “Since I was just leaving, I’ll come to you. Where would you like to meet?”

“Were you going uptown or downtown?” Terese asked.

“Uptown,” Jack said.

“Then let’s meet at the café where we had coffee on Sunday,” Terese said.

“I’ll be right there,” Jack said.

“Wonderful!” Terese asserted. “I’ll be waiting.” Then she hung up.

Jack replaced the receiver and self-consciously looked over at Chet. “Did you hear any of that?” Jack asked.

“It was hard not to,” Chet said. “What do you think happened?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Jack said.

True to his word, Jack left immediately. Exiting from the front of the medical examiner facility, he caught a cab on First Avenue. Despite the normal afternoon traffic, he made it uptown in reasonable time.

The café was crowded. He found Terese sitting toward the rear at a small banquette. He took the seat opposite her. She didn’t make any motion to get up. She was dressed as usual in a smart suit. Her jaw was clenched. She looked angry.

She leaned forward. “You are not going to believe this,” she said in a forced whisper.

“Did the president and the CEO not like your presentation?” Jack asked. It was the only thing he could think of.

Terese made a motion of dismissal with her hand. “I canceled the presentation,” she said.

“Why?” Jack asked.

“Because I’d had the sense to schedule an early breakfast with a woman acquaintance at National Health,” Terese said. “She’s a vice president in marketing who I happened to have gone to Smith College with. I’d had a brainstorm about leaking the campaign to some higher-ups through her. I was so confident. But she shocked me by telling me that under no circumstances would the campaign fly.”

“But why?” Jack asked. As much as he disliked medical advertising, he’d considered the ads Terese had come up with the best he’d seen.

“Because National Health is deathly afraid of any reference to nosocomial infections,” Terese said angrily. Then she leaned forward again and whispered. “Apparently they have had some of their own trouble lately.”

“What kind of trouble?” Jack asked.

“Nothing like the Manhattan General,” Terese said. “But serious nonetheless, even with a few deaths. But the real point is that our own account executive people, specifically Helen Robinson and her boss, Robert Barker, knew all this and didn’t tell me.”

“That’s counterproductive,” Jack said. “I thought you corporate types were all working toward the same end.”

“Counterproductive!” Terese practically shouted, causing the nearby diners to turn their heads. Terese closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself.

“ ‘Counterproductive’ is not the term I’d use,” Terese said, keeping her voice down. “The way I’d describe it would make a sailor blush. You see, this was not an oversight. It was done deliberately to make me look bad.”

“I’m sorry to hear this,” Jack said. “I can see it’s upsetting for you.”

“That’s an understatement,” Terese said. “It’s the death of my presidential aspirations if I don’t come up with an alternative campaign in the next couple of days.”

“A couple of days?” Jack questioned. “From what you’ve shown me about how this process works, that’s a mighty tall order.”

“Exactly,” Terese said. “That’s why I had to see you. I need another hook. You came up with this infection idea, or at least you were the source of it. Can you come up with another concept? Something that I can construct an ad campaign around. I’m desperate!”

Jack looked off and tried to think. The irony of the situation didn’t escape him; as much as he despised medical advertising, here he was racking his brains for some sort of an idea. He wanted to help; after all, Terese had been so willing to help him.

“The reason I think medical advertising is such a waste of money is that it ultimately has to rely on superficial amenities,” he said. “The problem is that without quality being an issue there just isn’t enough difference between AmeriCare and National Health or any of the other big conglomerates.”

“I don’t care,” Terese said. “Just give me something I can use.”

“Well, the only thing that comes to my mind at the moment is the issue about waiting,” Jack said.

“What do you mean, ‘waiting’?” Terese asked.

“You know,” Jack said. “Nobody likes waiting for the doctor, but everybody does. It’s one of those irritating universal annoyances.”

“You’re right!” Terese said excitedly. “I love it. I can already see a tag line like: No waiting with National Health! Or even better: We wait for you, you don’t wait for us! God, that’s great! You’re a genius at this. How about a job?”

Jack chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be a trip,” he said. “But I’m having enough trouble with the one I have.”

“Is there something wrong?” Terese asked. “What did you mean when you said you were in the middle of an emergency?”