Jack’s destination was central supply. He felt that if he was to learn anything on this visit, it would be there. He got off the elevator on the third floor and was impressed with how much less patient traffic there was than there had been on his visit the previous Thursday. A glance through the glass portal on the OR suite doors told him why. Apparently the ORs had been temporarily shut down. With some knowledge of hospital cash flow, Jack surmised that AmeriCare must be having a financial stroke.

Jack pushed through the swinging doors into central supply. Even there the level of activity was a quarter of what it had been on his first visit. He only saw two women near the end of one of the long aisles between the floor-to-ceiling shelving. Like everyone else he’d seen so far, they were wearing masks. Obviously the hospital was taking this last outbreak particularly seriously.

Avoiding the aisle with the women, Jack set off for Gladys Zarelli’s office. She’d been receptive on his first visit, and she was the supervisor. Jack couldn’t think of a better person with whom to talk.

As he walked through the department, Jack eyed the myriad hospital supplies and equipment stacked on the shelves. Seeing such a profusion of items made him wonder if there had been anything unique sent from central supply to the index cases. It was an interesting thought, he reasoned, but he couldn’t imagine how it would matter. There was still the question of how the women in central supply could have come in contact with the patient and the infecting bacteria. As he’d been told, the employees rarely, if ever, even saw a patient.

Jack found Gladys in her office. She was on the phone, but when she saw him standing at her door, she motioned exuberantly for him to come in. Jack sat down on a straight-back chair opposite her narrow desk. With the size of the office, he could not help overhearing both sides of Gladys’s conversation. As he might have imagined, she was busy recruiting.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said when she finished her call. Despite her problems she was as affable as the last time Jack had talked with her. “But I’m in desperate need of more help.”

Jack reintroduced himself, but Gladys said she’d recognized him despite the mask. So much for the disguise, Jack thought glumly.

“I’m sorry about what’s happened,” Jack said. “It must be difficult for you for all sorts of reasons.”

“It’s been terrible,” she admitted. “Just terrible. Who would have guessed? Four wonderful people!”

“It’s shocking,” Jack said. “Especially since it’s so unusual. As you said last time I was here, no one in this department had ever caught anything serious before.”

Gladys raised her uplifted hands. “What can you do?” she said. “It’s in God’s hands.”

“It might be in God’s hands,” Jack said. “But usually there is some way to explain this kind of contagion. Have you given it any thought at all?”

Gladys nodded vigorously. “I’ve thought about it until I was blue in the face,” she said. “I don’t have a clue. Even if I didn’t want to think about it, I’ve had to because everybody has been asking me the same question.”

“Really,” Jack said with a twinge of disappointment. He’d had the idea he was exploring virginal territory.

“Dr. Zimmerman was in here right after you on Thursday,” Gladys said. “She came with this cute little man who kept sticking his chin out as if his collar button were too tight.”

“That sounds like Dr. Clint Abelard,” Jack said, realizing he truly was strolling a beaten path.

“That was his name,” Gladys said. “He sure could ask a lot of questions. And they’ve been back each time someone else has gotten sick. That’s why we’re all wearing our masks. They even had Mr. Eversharp down here from engineering, thinking there might have been something messed up with our air-conditioning system, but apparently that’s fine.”

“So they haven’t come up with any explanation?” Jack said.

“Nope,” Gladys said. “Unless they haven’t told me. But I doubt that. It’s been like Grand Central in here. Used to be no one came. Some of these doctors, though, they’re a little strange.”

“How so?” Jack asked.

“Just weird,” Gladys said. “Like the doctor from the lab. He’s come down here plenty of times lately.”

“Is that Dr. Cheveau?” Jack asked.

“I think so,” Gladys said.

“In what way was he strange?” Jack asked.

“Just unfriendly,” Gladys said. She lowered her voice as if telling a secret. “I asked him if I could help him a couple of times, and he bites my head off. He says he just wants to be left alone. But, you know, this is my department. I’m responsible for all this inventory. I don’t like people wandering around, even doctors. I had to tell him.”

“Who else has been around?” Jack asked.

“A bunch of the bigwigs,” Gladys said. “Even Mr. Kelley. Usually I’d only see him at the Christmas party. Last couple of days he’s been down here three or four times, always with a bunch of people. Once with that little doctor.”

“Dr. Abelard?” Jack asked.

“That’s the one,” Gladys said. “I can never remember his name.”

“I hate to ask you the same questions as the others,” Jack said. “But did the women who died perform similar tasks? I mean, did they share some specific job?”

“Like I told you last time,” Gladys said, “we all pitch in.”

“None of them went up to the patients’ rooms who died of the same illnesses?” Jack asked.

“No, nothing like that,” Gladys said. “That was the first thing that Dr. Zimmerman checked.”

“Last time I was here you printed out a big list of all the stuff that you’d sent up to the seventh floor,” Jack said. “Could you make the same list for an individual patient?”

“That would be more difficult,” Gladys said. “The order usually comes from the floor, and then it is the floor that enters it into the patient’s data.”

“Is there any way you could come up with such a list?” Jack asked.

“I suppose,” Gladys said. “When we do inventory there is a way of double-checking through billing. I could tell billing I’m doing that kind of check even though we’re not officially doing inventory.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Jack said. He took out one of his cards. “You could either call me or just send it over.”

Gladys took the card and examined it. “I’ll do anything that might help,” she said.

“One other thing,” Jack said. “I’ve had my own run-in with Mr. Cheveau and even a few of the other people around here. I’d appreciate it if this was just between you and me.”

“Isn’t he weird!” Gladys said. “Sure, I won’t tell anybody.”

Easing out from in front of Gladys’s desk, Jack bid good-bye to the robust woman and exited central supply. He wasn’t in the best of moods. After beginning with high expectations, the only thing of note he’d been told was something he already knew: Martin Cheveau was irascible.

Jack pushed the down button at the bank of elevators while he pondered his next move. He had two choices: either he could just leave and minimize his risk, or he could make a careful visit to the lab. Ultimately, he decided in favor of the lab. Chet’s comment about the lack of availability of pathological bacteria carried the day, since it had raised a question Jack needed to answer.

When the elevator doors opened, Jack started to board, but then he hesitated. Standing directly in front of the crowded car was Charles Kelley. Jack recognized him instantly despite his mask.

Jack’s first impulse was to back away and let the elevator go. But such a move would have only drawn attention. Instead he put his head down, proceeded onto the elevator, and immediately turned to face the closing door. The administrator was standing right behind him. Jack half expected a tap on the shoulder.

Luckily, Kelley had not recognized him. The administrator was deep in conversation with a colleague about how much it was costing the hospital to transport the ER patients by ambulance and the clinic patients by bus to their nearest facility. Kelley’s agitation was palpable. He said their self-imposed semi-quarantine would have to end.