Pandemic

34

THURSDAY, 9:40 A.M.

Continuing his juvenile acting out that began with how he’d surrendered his ME badge, Jack slammed the door to his office with such force that his kids’ framed photos tipped over on top of the file cabinet. Without bothering to right them, he threw himself dejectedly into his office chair, leaned back, and stared up at the acoustical-tile ceiling. He had to fight against the urge to break something, but the only thing within reach was his microscope, and he wasn’t that out of control. Since it had stopped raining, he wished he had his bike, but at the same time he acknowledged that even that might not have been a good idea in his current frame of mind.

After sitting there for some time, Jack wasn’t even sure how long, his mobile rang. At first he just ignored it, since he didn’t feel like talking with anyone, and it soon stopped. Yet in a couple of minutes it started again. And then yet again. Finally, when it rang again, its persistence got his attention. Arching his back, he managed to get it out of his pants pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was a number, not a name, meaning it wasn’t anyone in his contacts. He was about to toss the phone onto his desk when he recognized the area code, 973. He knew that was New Jersey. Partially as a diversion, Jack answered. To his surprise it was Harvey Lauder, the ME from Morris County who also had a private office in Dover.

“I’m glad I got you,” Harvey Lauder said. “I’ve called a few times. I was determined. There’s been a development out here that might interest you. Last night a young woman in her twenties came into the emergency room at the Dover Valley Hospital in serious respiratory distress of acute onset. It was just like the Carol Stewart case. Even though the patient got to the hospital quickly and was intubated and put on a respirator, she died. It all happened in just a little over an hour from the first symptoms.”

“That does sound similar,” Jack said. He straightened up. “Was it just the similar clinical course that made you think of Carol Stewart?”

“Not at all. Even more striking was that she also had had a heart transplant. It was done here at the Dover Valley Hospital as the very first case after the hospital received its certification. Everybody is heartbroken, as she had become a minor celebrity. She had been doing so well, just like Carol Stewart.”

“That’s extraordinary,” Jack said. “Do you have a name for this new case?” He now sat bolt upright. His suspicion that Carol was the origin of the subway illness was now strengthened considerably with a second transplant recipient contracting it. Of course, there was always the possibility that this new victim was part of Carol and Helen’s social circle. That would have to be ruled out.

“Certainly,” Harvey said. “It’s Margaret Sorenson. The reason I’m calling is to let you know that I’m going to do an autopsy in an hour or so at the Dover Valley Hospital. They have superb facilities, including the latest in personal protection equipment. I was speaking with Dr. Markham and Dr. Friedlander, and they were hoping you might like to come out and participate. They would be extremely interested to have your take on whether it’s the same or different from Carol Stewart. They would also be more than willing to pay for your time. Are you in?”

“That might possibly work,” Jack said, trying not to sound too eager. He felt suddenly energized. Under the circumstances, such an invitation unexpectedly being dropped into his lap seemed like a gift from above, even though he didn’t believe in the “above.” Shifting his mind from a paralyzing mixture of anger, depression, and self-pity to logistics, he wondered how difficult it might be to get ahold of Warren to see if he could again borrow the Escalade.

“They will be pleased if it works out,” Harvey said. “They’ve offered a flat fee of five thousand dollars. Would that be agreeable to you? I know for a fact that it’s on the high end of the spectrum. I was the one who suggested it, as they asked my opinion.”

“That would be fine,” Jack said. He certainly wasn’t going to turn down being paid for something he wanted to do. Besides, the money would come in handy, since he had just been put on unpaid leave, which he wasn’t about to reveal, for fear the offer might be rescinded.

“May I tell them that it’s a go?” Harvey asked. “They’re eager to move forward.”

“I just have to figure out transportation,” Jack said. “Let me get back to you.”

“Maybe we can help in that regard,” Harvey said. “The hospital has a service that runs back and forth between the Zhao Heart Center at MGH and our facility. Let me check. I’ll call you right back. How would that be?”

“That would be very convenient,” Jack agreed. He disconnected. He felt like clapping. A few minutes earlier he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do with himself and was toxically angry. Now he was being offered an opportunity to jump back into the thick of the conundrum of the subway death, and best of all, Laurie wouldn’t have a clue.

Picking his phone back up, Jack went into his contacts to pull up Warren’s information. If the Dover Valley Hospital shuttle didn’t work out, he wanted to have a backup. As he was waiting to see if Warren picked up, he thought about Harvey’s having used the pronoun “our” in relation to the Dover Valley Hospital. It made him wonder if it was just a figure of speech or if Harvey Lauder had some proprietary interest in the hospital. The thought stemmed from a comment Wei Zhao had made. A second later his phone buzzed, indicating an incoming call. Jack terminated the call to Warren and answered. It was Harvey, already calling back.

“We’re in luck,” Harvey said. “We do have a vehicle in the city that can come and pick you up at 520 First Avenue. How soon would you be ready to go?”

“As soon as I cancel my lunch date with the Pope, I’ll be ready,” Jack said. He couldn’t believe his luck that this was actually going to happen.

Harvey laughed. “I’m sure the Pope will be disappointed. We’ll have one of our Suburbans at the front of your building in fifteen minutes. There will be a sign with your name on the passenger-side window. The driver will bring you directly here to the Dover Valley Hospital, and I’ll meet you in the reception area. Any questions?”

“None that come to mind,” Jack said. “See you soon.”

For a few minutes Jack sat there staring ahead at nothing while his mind rekindled thoughts of his weird luncheon with Wei Zhao and how angry he’d become when it was apparent Wei had had him investigated. Jack’s intuition was telling him that Wei and his sprawling organization were ultimately responsible for all that was happening, including his administrative leave of absence and the deaths of five people, maybe even six, if this new case did turn out to be the same as the others. Jack was aware he didn’t have any real reason to believe this, but he did nonetheless, and under the circumstances he relished the opportunity to find out if he was correct.