Contagion by Robin Cook

“That’s what we are here for,” Lou said. “People’s safety.”

“I understand that,” Jack said. “But this is a rather unique situation. There are a lot of things going on. I’m worried we might be on the brink of a real epidemic.”

“Of what?” Lou asked.

“Influenza,” Jack said. “A type of influenza with a high morbidity.”

“Have there been a lot of cases?” Lou asked.

“Not a lot so far,” Jack said. “But I’m worried nonetheless.”

“Epidemics scare me, but they are out of my area of expertise,” Lou said. “But homicide isn’t. When do you think you might be willing to talk about these murders we’ve been discussing if you’re not inclined at the moment?”

“Give me a day,” Jack said. “This epidemic scare is real. Trust me.”

“Hmmmm …” Lou voiced. He looked at Sergeant Wilson. “A lot can happen in a day,” the sergeant said.

“That’s my concern too,” Lou said. He redirected his attention to Jack.

“What worries us is that the two gang members who’ve been killed were from different gangs. We don’t want to see a gang war erupt around here. Whenever they do, a lot of innocent people get killed.”

“I need twenty-four hours,” Jack repeated. “By then I hope to be able to prove what I’m trying to prove. If I can’t, I’ll admit I was wrong, and I’ll tell you everything I know, which, by the way, is not much.”

“Listen, Doc,” Lou said. “I could arrest you right now and charge you with accessory after the fact. You are willfully obstructing the investigation of several homicides. I mean, you do understand the reality of what you are doing, don’t you?”

“I think I do,” Jack said.

“I could charge you, but I’m not going to do that,” Lou said. He sat back in his chair. “Instead I’m going to bow to your judgment concerning this epidemic stuff. In deference to Dr. Montgomery, who seems to think you are a good guy, I’ll be patient about my area of expertise. But I want to hear from you tomorrow night. Understand?”

“I understand,” Jack said. Jack looked from the lieutenant to the sergeant and then back. “Is that it?”

“For now,” Lou said.

Jack got up and headed for the door. Before he reached it, Sergeant Wilson spoke up: “I hope you understand how dangerous dealing with these gangs is. They feel they have little to lose and consequently have little respect for life, either their own or others’.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jack said.

Jack hurried from the building. As he emerged into the night he felt enormous relief, as if he’d been granted a reprieve.

While he waited for a taxi to appear in Park Row in front of the police headquarters, he thought about what he should do. He was afraid to go home. At the moment he didn’t want to see the Black Kings or Warren. He thought about going back to see Terese, but he feared endangering her more than he already had.

With few alternatives Jack decided to find a cheap hotel. At least he’d be safe and so would his friends.

31

* * *

WEDNESDAY, 6:15 A.M., MARCH 27, 1996

The first symptom Jack noticed was a sudden rash that appeared on his forearms. As he was examining it, the rash spread quickly to his chest and abdomen. With his index fingers he spread the skin at the site of one of the blotches to see if it would blanch with pressure. Not only did it not blanch, the pressure deepened the color.

Then, as quickly as the skin eruption appeared, it began to itch. At first Jack tried to ignore the sensation, but it increased in intensity to the point where he had to scratch. When he did, the rash began to bleed. Each blotch was transformed into an open sore.

With the bleeding and the sores came a fever. It started to rise slowly, but once it got past a hundred degrees, it shot up. Soon Jack’s forehead was awash with perspiration.

When he looked at himself in the mirror and saw his face flushed and spotted with open sores, he was horrified. A few minutes later he began to experience difficulty breathing. Even with deep breaths he was gasping for air.

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