"No problem," the officer said. He handled the originals with gloved hands.

Calhoun winked at Angela and whispered: "This way we'll both have a set."

Ten minutes later, Angela and Calhoun were back in the truck.

"That was a breeze," Angela said with relief. She slid the copies out of the envelope the officer had placed them in and began looking through them.

"I never say 'I told you so,' " Calhoun said with a smile. "I'd never say that. Nope. I'm not that kind of person."

Angela laughed. She'd come to enjoy Calhoun's humor.

"What are they?" Calhoun asked, looking over Angela's shoulder.

"They're copies of the admissions sheets on eight patients," Angela said.

"Anything unique about them?" Calhoun asked.

"Not that I can tell," Angela said with some disappointment. "There doesn't seem to be any common element. Different ages, different sexes, and different diagnoses. There's a fractured hip, pneumonia, sinusitis, chest pain, right lower quadrant abdominal pain, phlebitis, stroke, and kidney stone. I don't know what I expected, but this looks pretty ordinary."

Calhoun started the truck and pulled out into the traffic. "Don't make any snap decisions," he advised.

Angela slid the papers back into their envelope and gazed out at the surroundings. Almost immediately she recognized where they were.

"Wait a second," she said. "Stop a moment."

Calhoun pulled over to the side of the road.

"We're very close to the office of the chief medical examiner," Angela said. "What do you say we stop in? He did the autopsy on Hodges and a visit might generate a bit more interest on his part."

"Fine with me," Calhoun said. "I'd like to meet the man."

They did a U-turn in the middle of a busy street. The maneuver scared Angela, and she closed her eyes to the oncoming traffic. Calhoun told her to relax. A few minutes later they were in the medical examiner's building. They met Walter Dunsmore in a lunchroom. Angela introduced Calhoun.

"How about something to eat?" Walter suggested.

Both Angela and Calhoun got sandwiches out of a vending machine and joined Walt.

"Mr. Calhoun is helping investigate the Hodges murder," Angela explained. "We came up to Burlington to get copies of some evidence. While we were here I thought I'd stop in to see if there have been any new developments."

"No, I don't think so," Walt said as he tried to think. "Toxicology came back and was negative except for the alcohol level which I told you about. That's about it. As I said, nobody's making this case much of a priority."

"I understand," Angela said. "Anything more on that carbon under the skin?"

"Haven't had a chance to even think about it again," Walt admitted.

After they wolfed down their sandwiches Angela said she had to get back to Bartlet; she told Walt she was on her lunch hour. Walt encouraged her to come back any time.

The drive back to Bartlet seemed even faster than the drive to Burlington. Calhoun dropped Angela off behind the library so she could get her own car.

"I'll be in touch," Calhoun said. "And remember, stay out of it."

"Don't worry," Angela said. She waved as she got in behind the wheel. It was almost one-thirty.

Back in her office, Angela put the copies of Hodges' papers in the top drawer of her desk. She wanted to remember to take them home that evening. While she was donning her white lab coat Wadley opened the connecting door without bothering to knock.

"I've been looking for you for almost twenty minutes," he said irritably.

"I was out of the hospital," Angela said.

"That much was obvious," Wadley said. "I had you paged several times."

"I'm sorry," Angela said. "I used my lunch hour to run an errand."

"You've been gone longer than an hour," Wadley said.

"That might be," Angela said, "but I plan to stay later than scheduled, which I normally do anyway. Plus, I spoke to Dr. Darnell to cover in case there were any emergencies."

"I don't like my pathologists disappearing in the middle of the day," Wadley said.

"I was not gone long," Angela said. "I'm fully aware of my responsibilities and carry them out to the letter. I was not responsible for surgical specimens which would have been the only true emergency. Besides, my errand involved a visit to the chief medical examiner."

"You saw Walt Dunsmore?" Wadley asked.

"You can call him if you doubt me," Angela said. She could tell that Wadley was partially mollified. She was suddenly glad she'd made the spur-of-the-moment visit.

"I'm too busy to be checking on your whereabouts," Wadley said. "The point is that I'm concerned about your behavior of late. I should remind you that you are still on probationary status. I can assure you that you will be terminated if you prove to be unreliable."

With that, Wadley stepped back through the connecting door and slammed it shut.

For a moment Angela stared at the door. She detested this open hostility with Wadley. Still, she preferred it to the previous sexual harassment. She wondered if they would ever be able to develop a normal professional relationship.

After the last office patient had been seen, David reluctantly headed over to the hospital to make his afternoon rounds. He was beginning to dread the experience for fear of what he might face.

Before seeing his own patients David went to the ICU to check on Caroline. The child was doing poorly and was clearly moribund. David found Dr. Pilsner sitting at the ICU desk in a hopeless vigil. The man was despondent. David could relate all too well.

Leaving the ICU, David started seeing his own patients. Each time he went into another room he felt anxious, only to be relieved when he discovered the patient was doing well. But when he went into Sandra's room the anxiety remained. Sandra's mental status had deteriorated.

David was appalled. The change was dramatic to him even though the nurses weren't impressed. When David had visited her early that morning she'd been bright and aware. Now she was apathetic to her surroundings and was drooling. Her eyes had lost their luster. Her temperature, which had fallen, had now crept back up over one hundred degrees.

When David tried to talk to her, she was vague. The only specific complaint he could elicit was abdominal cramps, a symptom that reminded him of other patients he'd been trying to forget. David felt his pulse quicken. He didn't think he could tolerate losing another patient.

Back at the nurses' station, David pored over Sandra's chart. The only new fact was that she'd apparently lost her appetite as evidenced by an entry in the nurses' notes that recorded she'd not eaten her lunch. David checked all the IV fluids she'd had; they were all appropriate. Then he went over all the laboratory tests; they were all normal. He was desperate for some clue to explain the change in her mental status, but there were no clues in the chart. The only idea that came to his mind was the possibility of early meningitis, or inflammation of the coverings of her brain. It was the fear of her developing meningitis that had moved him to admit her in the first place.

David re-examined her, and although he could not elicit any signs of meningitis, he went ahead with the definitive test. He did a lumbar puncture to obtain cerebrospinal fluid. He knew immediately the fluid was normal because of its clarity, but he sent it to the lab for a stat reading to be certain. The result was normal. So was a stat blood sugar.

The only thing Sandra wasn't apathetic about was pain when David palpated her abscess. Consequently, David added another antibiotic to her regimen. Beyond that he had no ideas. He felt lost. All he could do was hope.

Climbing on his bike, David cycled home. He knew he was depressed. He got no enjoyment from the ride. He felt heartsick about Caroline and concerned about Sandra. But as soon as he arrived he realized he could not wallow in self-pity. Nikki was slightly worse than she'd been at lunchtime when he'd brought home her oral antibiotic. Her congestion had increased and her temperature had reached one hundred degrees.