“ ‘Counterproductive’ is not the term I’d use,” Terese said, keeping her voice down. “The way I’d describe it would make a sailor blush. You see, this was not an oversight. It was done deliberately to make me look bad.”

“I’m sorry to hear this,” Jack said. “I can see it’s upsetting for you.”

“That’s an understatement,” Terese said. “It’s the death of my presidential aspirations if I don’t come up with an alternative campaign in the next couple of days.”

“A couple of days?” Jack questioned. “From what you’ve shown me about how this process works, that’s a mighty tall order.”

“Exactly,” Terese said. “That’s why I had to see you. I need another hook. You came up with this infection idea, or at least you were the source of it. Can you come up with another concept? Something that I can construct an ad campaign around. I’m desperate!”

Jack looked off and tried to think. The irony of the situation didn’t escape him; as much as he despised medical advertising, here he was racking his brains for some sort of an idea. He wanted to help; after all, Terese had been so willing to help him.

“The reason I think medical advertising is such a waste of money is that it ultimately has to rely on superficial amenities,” he said. “The problem is that without quality being an issue there just isn’t enough difference between AmeriCare and National Health or any of the other big conglomerates.”

“I don’t care,” Terese said. “Just give me something I can use.”

“Well, the only thing that comes to my mind at the moment is the issue about waiting,” Jack said.

“What do you mean, ‘waiting’?” Terese asked.

“You know,” Jack said. “Nobody likes waiting for the doctor, but everybody does. It’s one of those irritating universal annoyances.”

“You’re right!” Terese said excitedly. “I love it. I can already see a tag line like: No waiting with National Health! Or even better: We wait for you, you don’t wait for us! God, that’s great! You’re a genius at this. How about a job?”

Jack chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be a trip,” he said. “But I’m having enough trouble with the one I have.”

“Is there something wrong?” Terese asked. “What did you mean when you said you were in the middle of an emergency?”

“There’s more trouble at the Manhattan General,” Jack said. “This time it’s an illness caused by meningococcus bacteria. It can be extremely deadly, as it has been in this instance.”

“How many cases?”

“Eight,” Jack said. “Including a child.”

“How awful,” Terese said. She was appalled. “Do you think it will spread?”

“I was worried at first,” Jack said. “I thought we were going to have a bona fide epidemic on our hands. But the cases just stopped. So far it hasn’t spread beyond the initial cohort.”

“I hope this isn’t going to be kept a secret like whatever killed the people at National Health,” Terese said.

“No worry on that account,” Jack said. “This episode is no secret. I’ve heard the hospital is in an uproar. But I’ll find out firsthand. I’m on my way over there.”

“Oh, no you’re not!” Terese commanded. “Is your memory so short that Friday night is already a blur?”

“You sound like several of my colleagues,” Jack said. “I appreciate your concern, but I can’t stay away. I have a sense that these outbreaks are deliberate, and my conscience won’t let me ignore them.”

“What about those people who beat you up?” she demanded.

“I’ll have to be careful,” Jack said.

Terese made a disparaging sound. “Being careful hardly sounds adequate,” she said. “It’s certainly not consistent with how you described those hoodlums Friday night.”

“I’ll just have to take my chances and improvise,” Jack said. “I’m going over to the General no matter what anybody says.”

“What I can’t understand is why you are so agitated about these infections. I’ve read that infectious diseases are generally on the rise.”

“That’s true,” Jack said. “But that’s not due to deliberate spread. That’s from the injudicious use of antibiotics, urbanization, and the invasion of primeval habitats.”

“Give me a break,” Terese commented. “I’m concerned about you getting yourself hurt or worse, and you’re giving me a lecture.”

Jack shrugged. “I’m going to the General,” he said.

“Fine, go!” Terese said. She stood up. “You’re being that ridiculous hero I was afraid you’d be.” Then she softened. “Do what you must, but if you need me, call me.”

“I will,” Jack said. He watched her hurry out of the restaurant, thinking that she was a bewildering blend of ambition and solicitude. It was no wonder he was confused by her: one minute attracted, the next minute mildly put off.

Jack tossed down the remains of his coffee and stood up. After leaving an appropriate tip, he, too, hurried out of the café.

Jack walked rapidly toward the General. After the conversation with Terese he needed some fresh air. She had a way of agitating him. Not only was she emotionally confusing, but she was also right about the Black Kings. As much as Jack didn’t want to think about it, he was taking a chance defying their threat. The questions were: Whom had he irritated enough to send a gang to threaten him, and did the threat confirm his suspicions? Unfortunately there was no way to know. As he’d told Terese, he would have to be careful. The problem with that flippant answer, of course, was that he had no idea with whom he had to be careful. He assumed it would have to be Kelley, Zimmerman, Cheveau, or Abelard because those were the people he’d irritated. The trick was to avoid them all.

As Jack rounded the final corner, it was immediately apparent that things were abnormal at the hospital. Several wooden police sawhorses stood on the sidewalk, and two New York City uniformed policemen lounged on either side of the main door. Jack stopped to watch them for a moment, since they seemed to be spending more time talking with each other than anything else.

Feeling confused about their role, Jack went up to them and asked.

“We were supposed to discourage people from going into the hospital,” one officer said. “There was some kind of epidemic in there, but they think it’s under control.”

“We’re really here more for crowd control,” the other officer admitted. “They were expecting trouble earlier when they were toying with the idea of quarantining the facility, but things have settled down.”

“For that we can all be thankful,” Jack said. He started forward, but one of the officers restrained him.

“You sure you want to go in?” he asked.

“Afraid so,” Jack said.

The officer shrugged and let Jack pass.

The minute Jack entered through the door he was confronted by a uniformed hospital security officer wearing a surgical mask.

“I’m sorry,” the officer said. “No visitors today.”

Jack pulled out his medical examiner’s badge.

“Sorry, Doctor,” the officer said. He stepped aside.

Although calm outside, the inside of the hospital was still in a minor furor. The lobby was filled with people. What gave the scene a surrealistic aura was that everyone was wearing a mask.

With the sudden cessation of new meningococcal cases some twelve hours earlier, Jack was reasonably confident that a mask was superfluous. Yet he wanted one, not so much for protection as for disguise. He asked the security officer if they were available. He was directed to the unmanned information desk, where he found several boxes. Jack took one out and put it on.

Next he located the doctors’ coatroom. He entered when one of the staff doctors was exiting. Inside he took off his bomber jacket and searched for an appropriately sized long white coat. When he found one, he put it on, then returned to the lobby.