Contagion by Robin Cook

“God, what a mess!” Kelley said angrily to no one in particular. His demeanor had metamorphosed instantly from slippery salesman to sardonic administrator. He took a paper towel and wiped his perspiring brow. “This is not what this hospital needs!” He crumpled the towel and threw it into the trash. Turning to Dr. Zimmerman and in contrast to what he'd just said out in the nurses' station, he asked her if they were taking a risk just being on the floor.
         “I sincerely doubt it,” Dr. Zimmerman said. “But we'll have to make certain.”
         Turning to Dr. Wainwright, Kelley said: “No sooner had I heard about this disaster than I learned you already knew about it. Why didn't you inform me?”
         Dr. Wainwright explained that he'd just heard the news from Jack and had not had time to call.
         He explained he thought it was more important to call Dr. Zimmerman to get corrective measures instituted. He then proceeded to introduce Jack.
         Jack stepped forward and gave a little wave. He was unable to suppress a smile. This was the moment he knew he'd savor.
         Kelley took in the chambray shirt, the knitted tie, and the black jeans. It was a far cry from his own Valentino silk suit. “Seems to me the Commissioner of Health mentioned your name when she called me,” Kelley said. “As I recall, she was impressed you'd made the diagnosis so quickly.”
         “We city employees are always glad to be of service,” Jack said. Kelley gave a short, derisive laugh.
         “Perhaps you'd like to meet one of your dedicated fellow city employees,” Kelley said. “This is Dr. Clint Abelard. He's the epidemiologist for the New York City Board of Health.”
         Jack nodded to his mousy colleague, but the epidemiologist didn't return the greeting. Jack got the sense that Jack's presence was not wholly appreciated. Interdepartmental rivalry was a fact of bureaucratic life he was just beginning to appreciate.
         Kelley cleared his throat and then spoke to Wainwright and Zimmerman. “I want this whole episode kept as low-key as possible. The less that's in the media the better. If any reporter tries to talk with either of you, send them to me. I'll be gearing up the PR office to do damage control.”
         “Excuse me,” Jack said, unable to restrain himself from interrupting. “Corporate interests aside, I think you should concentrate on prevention. That means treating contacts and ascertaining where the plague bacteria came from. I think you have a mystery on your hands here, and until that's solved, the media is going to have a field day no matter what damage control you attempt.”
         “I wasn't aware anyone asked your opinion,” Kelley said scornfully.
         “I just felt you could use a little direction,” Jack said. “You seemed to be wandering a bit far ahead.”
         Kelley's face reddened. He shook his head in disbelief. “All right,” he said, struggling to control himself. “With your clairvoyance, I suppose you already have an idea of its origin.”
         “I'd guess rats,” Jack said. “I'm sure there are lots of rats around here.” Jack had been waiting to use that comment since it had had such a good effect with Calvin that morning.
         “We have no rats here at the Manhattan General,” Kelley sputtered. “And if I hear that you've said anything like that to the media, I'll have your head.”
         “Rats are the classical reservoir for the plague,” Jack said. “I'm sure they're around here if you know how to recognize them, I mean find them.”
         Kelley turned to Clint Abelard. “Do you think rats had anything to do with this case of plague?” he demanded.
         “I have yet to begin my investigation,” Dr. Abelard said. “I wouldn't want to hazard a guess, but I find it hard to believe that rats could have been involved. We're on the seventh floor.”
         “I'd suggest you