David’s calm face showed the barest hint of a sarcastic smile. “I hope they do not resist.”

“Do not worry,” Alan said with a broader smile. “We can always make them resist.”

“No trouble figuring this filing system,” Wendy said. “It’s pretty straightforward. Here comes my record.” Having typed up the appropriate commands, Wendy entered her social security number via the terminal’s keyboard. As soon as she pressed the Execute button, the information-page of her Women’s Clinic file filled the screen.

“What did I tell you!” Wendy said, obviously pleased. As she was about to advance to the next page, Marissa restrained her and pointed to the category of occupation. “What’s this ‘health care worker’?” Marissa asked.

“A mild deception,” Wendy explained. “I didn’t want them to know I was a physician. I was afraid it would get back to the General and my private life wouldn’t be so private anymore.”

Marissa laughed. “I did the same sort of thing for the same reason.”

“It’s uncanny how we think alike,” Wendy said.

“Now that we can call up individual records, what do you think is the best way to proceed?” Marissa asked.

“It’s simple in theory,” Wendy said. “What we need is that diagnostic code the woman up in medical records said they had for granulomatous blockage of the fallopian tubes. We just have to find it. I’m hoping we’ll come across it in my chart or yours. It will appear as some kind of alphanumeric designator.”

“We can use Rebecca Ziegler’s record as well,” Marissa said. She got out the dead woman’s social security number.

They scanned Wendy’s entire record, paying particular attention to the page containing the pathology of her fallopian tube biopsy. By the time they’d reached the final page, they’d come across a number of possible candidates for the code designator. Marissa jotted them down.

“Content-wise, there’s nothing in here that I didn’t already know,” Wendy said. “At least nothing that would tempt me to jump out the window. Let’s go on to yours.”

“Try Rebecca’s first,” Marissa suggested. She handed Wendy the social security number.

Wendy entered the number and executed. Instantly the computer responded by flashing “no file found.”

“I was afraid of that,” Marissa said. “All right, go to mine.” She recited her social security number and Wendy entered it. Soon Marissa’s record was on the screen.

Wendy scrolled directly to the pathology page. Reading carefully, they spotted several notations they had also taken from Wendy’s records.

“That’s curious,” Wendy said. “Check out the microscopic.” Marissa began to read it again.

“Do you notice anything strange?”

“I don’t think so,” Marissa said. “What caught your eye?”

“Let’s see if you see it,” Wendy said. Quickly she went back into her own record and called up her pathology page. “Read the microscopic!”