Contagion by Robin Cook

“What a surprise,” she said. “Imagine meeting two decent men at a bar. It always seems to happen when you least expect it.”

“They were nice guys,” Terese agreed. “I suppose I was wrong about them being out at the meat market, and thank God they didn’t spout off about sports or the stock market. Generally that’s all men in this city can talk about.”

“What tweaks my funny bone is that my mother has forever been encouraging me to meet a doctor,” Colleen said with a laugh.

“I don’t think either one of them is a typical doctor,” Terese said. “Especially Jack. He’s got a strange attitude. He’s awfully bitter about something, and seems a bit foolhardy. Can you imagine riding a bike around this city?”

“It’s easier than thinking about what they do. Can you imagine dealing with dead people all day?”

“I don’t know,” Terese said. “Mustn’t be too different than dealing with account executives.”

“I have to say you shocked me when you agreed to have dinner tomorrow night,” Colleen said. “Especially with this National Health disaster staring us in the face.”

“But that’s exactly why I did agree,” Terese said. She flashed Colleen a conspiratorial smile. “I want to talk some more with Jack Stapleton. Believe it or not, he actually gave me a great idea for a new ad campaign for National Health! I can’t imagine what his reaction would be if he knew. With his philistine attitude about advertising, he’d probably have a stroke.”

“What’s the idea?” Colleen asked eagerly.

“It involves this plague thing,” Terese said. “Since AmeriCare is National Health’s only real rival, our ad campaign merely has to take advantage of the fact that AmeriCare got plague in its main hospital. As creepy as the situation is, people should want to flock to National Health.”

Colleen’s face fell. “We can’t use plague,” she said.

“Hell, I’m not thinking of using plague specifically,” Terese said: “Just emphasizing the idea of National Health’s hospital being so new and clean. The contrary will be evoked by inference, and it will be the public who will make the association with this plague episode. I know what the Manhattan General is like. I’ve been there. It might have been renovated, but it’s still an old structure. The National Health hospital is the antithesis. I can see ads where people are eating off the floor at National Health, suggesting it’s that clean. I mean, people like the idea that their hospital is new and clean, especially now with all the hullabaloo about bacteria making a comeback and becoming antibiotic-resistant.”

“I like it,” Colleen said. “If that doesn’t increase National Health Care’s market share vis-a-vis AmeriCare, nothing will.”

“I even have thought up a tag line,” Terese said smugly. “Listen: ‘We deserve your trust: Health is our middle name.’”

“Excellent! I love it!” Colleen exclaimed. “I’ll get the whole team working on it bright and early.”

The cab pulled up to Terese’s apartment. The women did a high-five before Terese got out.

Leaning back into the cab, Terese said: “Thanks for getting me to go out tonight. It was a good idea for lots of reasons.”

“You’re welcome,” Colleen said, flashing a thumbs-up sign.

10

* * *

THURSDAY, 7:25 A.M., MARCH 21, 1996

As a man of habit, Jack arrived in the vicinity of the medical examiner’s office at the same time each day, give or take five minutes. This particular morning he was ten minutes late since he’d awakened with a slight hangover. He’d not had a hangover in so long, he’d completely forgotten how miserable it made him feel. Consequently he’d stayed in the shower a few minutes longer than usual, and on the slalom down Second Avenue, he’d kept his speed to a more reasonable level.

Crossing First Avenue, Jack saw something he’d never seen before at that time of day. There was a TV truck with its main antennae extended sitting in front of the medical examiner’s building.

Changing his direction a little, he cruised around the truck. No one was in it. Looking up at the front door to the ME’s office, he saw a group of newspeople clustered just over the threshold.

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