“The problem is we don’t know what kind of rugs,” Jack said. “I think that could be important.” Jack turned the report over. Just as Janice had said, there was the name and phone number of the house doctor who’d taken care of Mr. Papparis.

Jack spun around and picked up his phone. He dialed the number and got the central switchboard of the Bronx General Hospital.

“Fine,” Chet said with a wave of dismissal. “You don’t have to listen to me. Hell, I know that you’ll just do whatever you want no matter what anybody else says.” Disgusted, Chet turned back to his own work.

“Could you page Dr. Kevin Fowler for me?” Jack asked the hospital operator. While he waited he held the phone in the crook of his neck so he could lift down his copy of Harrison’s Principles of Internal Medicine. The pages of the chapter on infectious diseases were dog-eared.

Jack turned to the section on anthrax. There were only two pages devoted to it. He was almost through reading when Dr. Kevin Fowler came on the line.

Jack explained who he was and why he was calling. Dr. Fowler was dumbfounded at the diagnosis.

“I’ve never seen a case of anthrax,” Dr. Fowler admitted. “Of course, I’m only a resident, so I haven’t had much experience.”

“Now you’re a member of a select group,” Jack said. “I was just reading there’s only been a handful of cases over the last decade here in the U.S., and all of those were the more common cutaneous form. The inhalational variety like Mr. Papparis had used to be called woolsorters’disease. The patients contracted it from contaminated animal hair and hides.”

“I can tell you it was an extremely rapid downhill course,” Dr. Fowler said. “I won’t mind if I never have to take care of another case. I guess we get to see everything here in New York.”

“Did you do a history on the patient?” Jack asked.

“No, not at all,” Dr. Fowler said. “I was just called when the patient got into respiratory distress. All I knew about the history was what was in the chart.”

“So you don’t know what kind of rug business the patient was in?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Dr. Fowler said. “Why don’t you try the attending physician, Dr. Heitman.”

“Have you got a telephone number for him?” Jack asked.

“Sure,” Dr. Fowler said. “He’s one of our staff attendings.”

Jack placed a call to Dr. Heitman but learned that he had been merely covering for Dr. Bernard Goldstein and that Mr. Jason Papparis was actually Dr. Goldstein’s patient. Jack then called Dr. Goldstein. It took a few minutes to get the doctor on the line, and he was less than friendly and rather impatient. Jack wasted no time in asking his question.

“What do you mean what kind of rug business?” Dr. Goldstein asked irritably. He obviously didn’t like being interrupted in the middle of his day for what sounded to him like a frivolous inquiry. His secretary had been hesitant to bother the doctor even after Jack said that the call was an emergency.