ivory. Her profile, a scuffed portrait in the thick of a Chicago night.
“I’m sorry for coming over like this.” She took a quick glance around the apartment.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“It was just hard to talk before. And… ”
“And you want to talk about something that can’t wait?”
“Yes.”
“Go ahead.”
She tightened her mouth and wrinkled her forehead.
“You came all the way up, Ellen. Why stop now?”
“Did you tell me the truth about Cook County?”
“You want to see the X-ray?”
“No. Just tell me the truth.”
“Hold on.” I padded out to the kitchen and got another Half Acre out of the fridge. Then I reconsidered and found the whiskey. I moved back into the living room, sat down, and showed her my drink. She shook her head.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
I took a small sip of scotch. “I was working a case and banged up my ribs. Not too bad, but enough. End of story.” I took another sip and placed the tumbler on a side table. “Now, you want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”
A pause. “I lied about why I was at the hospital.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“I know you lied, yes. Why? I have no idea.”
“Maybe I’ll take that coffee.”
I wound up making her a cup of Barry’s Tea. She puffed her lips and blew on it. Then she took a sip. “Good tea.”
“It’s Irish.”
“Of course.” Another sip and she was ready. “You want to know what black biology is all about?”
“I thought I got an earful today.”
“Hardly. People talk about weaponized anthrax and the like. Child’s play compared with what I have on my laptop.”
“Maybe I don’t want to hear this.”
“Who does? Ever think about cancer as a transmissible disease? You catch it like the flu. I got that beauty mapped out right now. All I have to do is build it. Got a stealth version as well.”
“Stealth?”
“The pathogen lies dormant in the body until it’s triggered by some external event. Like the herpes virus is triggered by stress.”
“Except the external event in this case… ”
“Would be designed and controlled by whoever created the pathogen. You infect the community and wait. Trigger the event at your time and choosing and activate the virus.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”
“Who’s asking for that?”
“Sounds like you might be. If you can’t handle the pressure, get out.”
“I don’t want to get out. Not now. Not when we’re so close.”
“To what?”
She shrugged. “What do you think? Creating life from nothing.”
I looked at my glass of whiskey and wished I’d brought in the bottle. “Why are you telling me all this, Ellen?”
“I’ve left three messages today for Matt Danielson. He hasn’t returned any of them.”
“The subway thing was a false alarm. He’s probably moved on to bigger and better disasters. He’ll get back to you.”
She hunted around for someplace to put her cup and wound up placing it on the floor. “Is that okay?”
I waved a hand. “Why were you at Cook tonight, Ellen?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Are you afraid there’s been a release?”
“I’m always afraid of that. Been that way for five years.”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“The stuff we found in the subway is harmless.”
“What about the kid you saw in the ER? Looked like one hell of a case of food poisoning.”
“I’m heading back right now to take a look at his blood.”
“You ever sleep?”
“I’ll get the tests running and grab a few hours.”
I walked over to my desk and scratched out a name on a piece of paper. “There’s a Chicago cop named Donnie Quin. He died today. You can find his body either at Cook County Hospital or the morgue.”
“And?”
“Do me a favor and check out his blood. You’re looking at the kid anyway.”
Ellen hooded her eyes. “Actually, there are six cases I’m looking at.”
“Six?”
“Yes. Three more sick, two dead in the past seven hours.”
“All like the kid?”
“Somewhat.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’ve got six cases of something. They all live in a fifteen-to-twenty-block radius, so I’m thinking maybe they’re related.”
“And maybe it’s not something they ate.”
“I’ll know more when I see the blood.”
“How ready would we be if something did happen?”
“Something more than food poisoning?”
“Yes.”
“You saw what went on tonight. Anyone in an ER is at grave risk.”
“The patients?”
“Patients, doctors, nurses. They have limited training, no protective equipment. No chance.”
“So what happens to them?”
“Depends on the pathogen. If it’s a bad one, they die. Then we autopsy them. Hopefully soon enough to make a difference for the rest of us.”
I nodded at the scrap of paper I’d given her. “Check out Quin. Let me know what you find.”
She didn’t agree. Just shoved the note into her bag. Maggie picked herself up from the corner and ambled in for a little attention.
“Your pal?” Ellen reached down and scratched the pup’s ears. Maggie rolled onto her back and wagged her tail for more.
“She keeps me from talking to myself.”
“She’s very cute.”
“Everybody thinks so.”
I walked Ellen out of my living room. She stopped just short of the door and turned. My shoulder brushed hers in a hallway that was suddenly all corners. I could smell the heat off her skin. For a moment, I thought she might reach out and touch my face. For a moment I didn’t know if that was the best thing that ever happened to me. Or another nightmare. Instead, she pulled at a lock of hair that was floating free and tucked it behind her ear.
“What is it?” My voice sounded thick and clumsy.
