Marissa spent several minutes struggling with Ralph’s secretary, who guarded him as if he were the Pope, pleading with the woman to at least let him know she was on the line. Finally, Ralph picked up the phone.
“I hope you’re back in Atlanta,” he said before she could say hello.
“Soon,” promised Marissa. She explained that she was at the American terminal in Chicago, on her way to New York, but that she’d probably be back in Atlanta the following day, particularly if he’d found her a good lawyer.
“I made some discreet inquiries,” said Ralph, “and I think I have just the man. His name is McQuinllin. He’s with a large firm here in Atlanta.”
“I hope he’s smart,” said Marissa. “He’s going to have his hands full.”
“Supposedly he’s one of the best.”
“Do you think that he will require a lot of money up front?”
“Chances are he’ll want a retainer of some sort,” said Ralph. “Will that be a problem?”
“Could be,” said Marissa. “Depends on how much.”
“Well, don’t worry,” said Ralph. “I’ll be happy to lend a hand.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” said Marissa.
“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” said Ralph. “But in return, I’d like you to stop this crazy trip. What’s so important in New York? I hope it’s not the new Ebola outbreak. You don’t want a repeat of Philadelphia. Why don’t you just fly back to Atlanta. I’m worried about you.”
“Soon,” said Marissa. “I promise.”
After hanging up, Marissa kept her hand on the receiver. It always made her feel good to talk with Ralph. He cared.
Like most of the businesspeople who comprised ninety percent of the passengers, Marissa ordered herself a drink. She was still a bundle of nerves. The vodka tonic calmed her considerably, and she actually got into one of those “where you from?” and “what do you do?” conversations with a handsome young bond dealer from Chicago, named Danny. It turned out he had a sister who was a doctor in Hawaii. He chatted so enthusiastically, Marissa finally had to close her eyes and feign sleep in order to find time to put her thoughts in order.
The question that loomed in her mind was: how had the man with the frozen arm known she was in Chicago? And, assuming it was the same man, how had he known when she’d been in the maximum containment lab? To answer both questions, Marissa’s mind reluctantly turned to Tad. When Tad had discovered the missing card, he must have known she would use it that night. Maybe he told Dubchek to avoid getting into trouble himself. Tad had also known she was flying to Chicago, but she simply couldn’t believe he had intentionally set a murderer on her trail. And much as she resented Dubchek, she respected him as a dedicated scientist. It was hard to connect him with the financially oriented, right-wing Physicians’ Action Congress.
Thoroughly confused as to what was intelligent deduction and what paranoid delusion, Marissa wished she hadn’t let the vaccination gun out of her hands. If Tad was somehow involved, then she’d lost her only hard evidence, provided it tested positive for Ebola.
As her plane touched down at La Guardia airport, Marissa decided that if the New York outbreak confirmed her theories about the origin of the Ebola outbreaks, she would go directly to Ralph’s lawyer and let him and the police sort things out. She just wasn’t up to playing Nancy Drew any longer. Not against a group of men who thought nothing of risking entire populations.
When the plane stopped and the seat-belt sign went off, indicating that they had arrived at the gate, Marissa stood and wrestled her suitcase out of the overhead bin. Danny insisted on helping her down the jetway, but when they said good-bye, Marissa vowed she would be more careful in the future. No more conversations with strangers, and she would not tell anyone her real name. In fact, she decided not to check into the Plaza as Carol Bradford. Instead, she’d stay overnight at the nearby Essex House, using the name of her old high-school chum, Lisa Kendrick.
George Valhala stood by the Avis Rent-a-Car counter and casually scanned the crowds in the baggage area. His employers had nicknamed him The Toad, not because of any physical characteristic, but rather because of his unusual patience, enabling him to sit still for hours on a stakeout, like a toad waiting for an insect.
But this job was not going to utilize his special talent. He’d only been at the airport for a short time, and his information was that the girl would arrive on the five o’clock or the six o’clock flight from Chicago. The five o’clock had just landed, and a few passengers were beginning to appear around the appropriate carousel.
The only minor problem that George foresaw was that the description he’d been given was vague: a cute, short, thirty-year-old female with brown hair. Usually he worked with a photo, but in this case there hadn’t been time to get one.
Then he saw her. It had to be her. She was almost a foot shorter than everyone else in the army of attache- case-toting travelers swarming the baggage area. And he noticed that she was bypassing the carousel, having apparently carried her suitcase off the plane.
Pushing off the Avis counter, George wandered toward Marissa to get a good fix on her appearance. He followed her outside, where she joined the taxi queue. She definitely was cute, and she definitely was little. George wondered how on earth she’d managed to overpower Paul in Chicago. The idea that she was some kind of martial- arts expert flitted through his mind. One way or another, George felt some respect for this little trick. He knew Al did too, otherwise Al wouldn’t be going through all this trouble.
Having gotten a look at her up close, George crossed the street in front of the terminal and climbed into a taxi waiting opposite the taxi stand.
The driver twisted around, looking at George. “You see her?” He was a skinny fellow with birdlike features, quite a contrast to George’s pear-shaped obesity.
“Jake, do I look like an idiot? Start the car. She’s in the taxi line.”
Jake did as he was told. He and George had been working for Al for four years, and they got along fine, except when George started giving orders. But that wasn’t too often.
“There she is,” said George, pointing. Marissa was climbing into a cab. “Pull up a little and let her cab pass us.”
“Hey, I’m driving,” said Jake. “You watch, I drive.” Nonetheless, he put the car in gear and started slowly forward.
George watched out the rear window, noticing Marissa’s cab had a dented roof, he said, “That will be easy to follow.” The taxi passed them on the right, and Jake pulled out behind. He allowed one car to get between them before they entered the Long Island Expressway.
There was no problem keeping Marissa’s cab in sight even though the driver took the Queensborough Bridge, which was crowded with rush-hour traffic. After forty minutes they watched her get out in front of the Essex House. Jake pulled over to the curb fifty feet beyond the hotel.
“Well, now we know where she’s staying,” said Jake.
“Just to be certain, I’m going in to see that she registers,” said George. “I’ll be right back.”
14
MARISSA DID NOT SLEEP WELL. After the incident in the room at the Palmer House, she might never feel comfortable in a hotel again. Every noise in the hall made her fearful, thinking someone would try to break in. And there were plenty of noises, what with people returning late and ordering from room service.
She also kept imagining symptoms. She could not forget the feel of the vaccination gun in her hand, and each time she woke up, she was certain she had a fever or was otherwise ill.
By the next morning, she was totally exhausted. She ordered fresh fruit and coffee, which arrived with a complimentary
Starting at ten, Marissa repeatedly called the Plaza Hotel to inquire after a parcel for Carol Bradford. She intended to keep calling until noon: the overnight carriers generally guaranteed delivery by that time. If the parcel
