“Like what?” Terese said. “I think we’re all jumping off the deep end here.”

“Maybe so,” Jack said. “But we have to remember that AmeriCare is first and foremost a business. I even know something about their philosophy. Believe me, it is bottom-line oriented all the way.”

“You’re suggesting that AmeriCare might be spreading disease in its own facility?” Terese asked incredulously. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m just thinking out loud,” Jack explained. “For the sake of argument let’s assume these illnesses have been deliberately spread. Now, let’s look at the index case in each incidence. First, there was Nodelman, who had diabetes. Second, there was Hard, who had a chronic orthopedic problem, and lastly there was Lagenthorpe, who suffered from chronic asthma.”

“I see what you’re suggesting,” Chet said. “All of the index cases were the type of patient prepaid plans hate because they lose money on them. They simply use too much medical care.”

“Oh, come on!” Terese complained. “This is ridiculous. No wonder you doctors make such horrid businessmen. AmeriCare would never risk this kind of public relations disaster to rid itself of three problem patients. It would make no sense. Give me a break!”

“Terese is probably right,” Jack admitted. “If AmeriCare was behind all this, they certainly could have done it more expeditiously. What truly worries me is that infectious agents are involved. If these outbreaks have been deliberate, the individual behind them wants to start epidemics, not just eliminate specific patients.”

“That’s even more diabolical,” Terese said.

“I agree,” Jack said. “It kind of forces us back to considering the improbable idea of a crazy person.”

“But if someone is trying to start epidemics, why hasn’t there been one?” Colleen asked.

“For several reasons,” Jack said. “First of all, the diagnosis has been made relatively rapidly in all three cases. Second, the General has taken these outbreaks seriously and has taken appropriate steps to control them. And third, the agents involved are poor choices for creating an epidemic here in New York in March.”

“You’ll have to explain,” Colleen said.

“Plague, tularemia, and Rocky Mountain spotted fever can be transmitted by airborne spread, but it is not their usual route. The usual route is through an arthropod vector, and those specific bugs are not available this time of year, especially not in a hospital.”

“What do you think of all this?” Terese asked Chet.

“Me?” Chet asked with a self-conscious laugh. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Come on,” Terese prodded. “Don’t try to protect your friend here. What’s your gut reaction?”

“Well, it is New York,” Chet said. “We see a lot of infectious diseases, so I suppose I’m dubious about this notion of a deliberate spread. I guess I’d have to say it sounds a little paranoid to me. I do know that Jack dislikes AmeriCare.”

“Is that true?” Terese asked Jack.

“I hate them,” Jack admitted.

“Why?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Jack said. “It’s personal.”

“Well,” Terese said. She put her hand on top of the stack of storyboards. “Dr. Stapleton’s disdain for medical advertising aside, you men think these sketches are okay?”

“I told you, I think they’re great,” Chet said.

“I imagine they will be effective,” Jack grudgingly agreed.

“Do either of you have any other suggestions we could use regarding preventing hospital infections?” Terese asked.

“Maybe you could do something concerning steam sterilization for instruments and devices,” Jack said. “Hospitals differ in their protocols. Robert Koch was involved with that advance, and he was a colorful character.”

Terese wrote down the suggestion. “Anything else?” she asked.

“I’m afraid I’m not very good at this,” Chet admitted. “But why don’t we all head over to the Auction House for a couple of drinks. With the proper lubricant, who knows what I might come up with?”

The women declined. Terese explained that they had to continue working on the sketches. She said that by Monday they had to have something significant to show to the president and the CEO.

“How about tomorrow night?” Chet suggested.

“We’ll see,” Terese said.

Five minutes later Jack and Chet were heading down in the elevator.

“That was the bum’s rush,” Chet complained.

“They are driven women,” Jack said.

“How about you?” Chet asked. “Want to stop for a beer?”

“I think I’ll head home and see if the guys are playing basketball,” Jack said. “I could use some exercise. I feel wired.”

“Basketball at this hour?” Chet questioned.

“Friday night is a big night in the neighborhood,” Jack said.

The two men parted company in front of the Willow and Heath building. Chet jumped into a cab, and Jack undid his medley of locks. Climbing on his bike, Jack pedaled north on Madison, then crossed over to Fifth Avenue at Fifty-ninth Street. From there he entered Central Park.

Although his usual style was to ride fast, Jack kept his pace slow. He was mulling over the conversation he’d just had. It had been the first time that he’d put his suspicions into words; he felt anxious as a result.

Chet had suggested he was paranoid, and Jack had to admit there had to be some truth in it. Ever since AmeriCare had effectively gobbled up his practice, Jack felt that death had been stalking him. First it had robbed him of his family, then it had threatened his own life with depression. It had even filled his daily routine with the second specialty he’d chosen. And now death seemed to be teasing him with these outbreaks, even mocking him with inexplicable details.

As Jack rode deeper into the dark, deserted park, its gloomy and somber views added to his disquietude. In areas where he’d seen beauty that morning on his way to work, now he saw ghastly skeletons of leafless trees silhouetted against an eerily bleached sky. Even the distant sawtooth skyline of the city seemed ominous.

Jack put muscle into his pedaling, and his bike gained speed. For an irrational moment he was afraid to look back over his shoulder. He had the creepy feeling that something was bearing down on him.

Jack streaked into a puddle of light beneath a lonely streetlight, braked, and skidded to a stop. He forced himself to turn around and face his pursuer. But there was nothing there. Jack strained to see into the distant shadows, and as he did, he understood that what was threatening him was coming from inside his own head. It was the depression that had paralyzed him after his family’s tragedy.

Angry with himself, Jack began pedaling again. He was embarrassed by his childlike fear. He thought he had more control. Obviously he was letting this episode with the outbreaks affect him far too much. Laurie had been right: He was too emotionally involved.

Having faced his fears, Jack felt better, but he noticed that the park still looked sinister. People had warned him about riding in the park at night, but Jack had always ignored their admonitions. Now, for the first time, he wondered if he was being foolish.

Emerging from the park onto Central Park West was like escaping from a nightmare. From the dark, scary loneliness of the park’s interior he was instantly thrust into a rallylike bustle of yellow cabs racing northward. The city had come alive. There were even people calmly walking on the sidewalks.

The farther north Jack rode the more the environment deteriorated. Beyond 100th Street the buildings became noticeably shabbier. Some were even boarded up and appeared abandoned. There was more litter in the street. Stray dogs plundered overturned trash cans.

Jack turned left onto 106th Street. As he rode along his street the neighborhood seemed more depressed than usual to him. The minor epiphany in the park had opened Jack’s eyes to just how dilapidated the area was.