“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.”

“I assume the ‘other’ hospital refers to the competition,” Jack said.

“Most assuredly,” Terese said. “We feel it would be in bad taste to mention the General by name, especially in light of the problems it’s been having.”

“Their problems are getting worse,” Jack said. “They’ve had an outbreak of another serious disease. This makes three in three days.”

“Good God!” Terese exclaimed. “That’s awful. I certainly hope this gets to the media, or is this one going to be a secret?”

“I don’t know why you keep making this an issue,” Jack snapped. “There’s no way it can be kept a secret.”

“It would be if AmeriCare had its way,” Terese said heatedly.

“Hey, are you guys at it again?” Chet said.

“It’s an ongoing argument,” Terese said. “I just can’t get over the fact that Jack does not feel it is his job as a public servant to let the media and hence the public know about these awful diseases.”

“I told you I’ve been specifically informed it is not my job,” Jack shot back.

“Wait! Time out,” Chet called out. “Listen, Terese, Jack is right. We can’t go to the media ourselves. That’s the chief’s domain via the PR office. But Jack is no slouch in all this. Today he went flying over to the General and implied right to their faces that these recent outbreaks aren’t natural.”

“What do you mean, not ‘natural’?” Terese asked.

“Exactly that,” Chet said. “If they are not natural, then they are deliberate. Somebody is causing them.”

“Is that true?” Terese asked Jack. She was shocked.

“It’s gone through my mind,” Jack admitted. “I’m having trouble explaining scientifically everything that has been going on over there.”

“Why would someone do that?” Terese wondered. “It’s absurd.”

“Is it?” Jack asked.

“Could it be the work of some crazy person?” Colleen offered.

“That I’d doubt,” Jack said. “There is too much expertise involved. And these bugs are dangerous to handle. One of the current victims is a lab technician.”

“What about a disgruntled employee?” Chet suggested. “Someone with the knowledge and a grudge who’s snapped.”

“That I think is more likely than some madman,” Jack said. “In fact, the director of the hospital lab is unhappy with the management of the hospital. He told me so himself. He’s had to lay off twenty percent of his workforce.”

“Oh my God,” Colleen exclaimed. “Do you think it could be him?”

“Actually I don’t,” Jack said. “Frankly, too many arrows would point to the director of the lab. He’d be the first suspect. He’s been acting defensive, but he’s not stupid. I think that if this series of diseases has been spread deliberately it has to be for a more venal reason.”