“Tell me about it,” I said.

We stopped at each floor, waiting as other people got on. Martin kept talking.

“Imagine this,” he went on. “A resort in Iowa where we’ve got suspected shigella because a lot of rain overflowed in private wells. And try to get the EPA involved.”

“It’s called mission impossible,” someone sardonically said as the doors opened again.

“If they even exist anymore,” Martin quipped. “We get fourteen thousand calls a year and have only two operators. Actually, right now we got none. Anybody who comes in, answers the phone. Including me.”

“Please don’t let this wait,” I said as we reached the lobby.

“Don’t worry.” He was into it. “I got three guys I’m calling in from home right away.”

For half an hour, I waited in the lobby and used a phone, and at last my taxi was here. I rode in silence, staring out at plazas of polished granite and marble, and sports complexes that reminded me of the Olympics, and buildings of silver and glass. Atlanta was a city where everything aspired higher, and lavish fountains seemed a symbol of generosity and no fear. I was feeling light-headed and chilled and unusually tired for one who had just spent the better part of a week in bed. By the time I reached my Delta gate, my back had begun to ache. I could not get warm or think very clearly, and I knew I had a fever.

I was ill by the time I reached Richmond. When Marino met me at the gate, the expression on his face turned to abject fear.

“Geez, Doc,” he said. “You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell.”

“You got any bags?”

“No. You got any news?”

“Yeah,” he said. “One tidbit that will piss you off. Ring arrested Keith Pleasants last night.”

“For what?” I exclaimed as I coughed.

“Attempting to elude. Supposedly, Ring was following him out of the landfill after work and tried to pull him for speeding. Supposedly, Pleasants wouldn’t stop. So he’s in jail, bond set at five grand, if you can believe that. He ain’t going nowhere anytime soon.”

“Harassment.” I blew my nose. “Ring is picking on him. Picking on Lucy. Picking on me.”

“No kidding. Maybe you should’ve stayed in Maryland, in bed,” he said as we boarded the escalator. “No offense, but I ain’t gonna catch this, am I?”

Marino was terrified of anything he could not see, whether it was radiation or a virus.

“I don’t know what I’ve got,” I said. “Maybe the flu.”

“Last time I got that I was out for two weeks.” His pace slowed, so he did not keep up with me. “Plus, you been around other things.”

“Then don’t come close, touch or kiss me,” I said, shortly.

“Hey, don’t worry.”

This continued as we walked out into the cold afternoon.

“Look. I’m going to take a taxi home,” I said, and I was so mad at him I was next to tears.