In Plain Sight

“The incident at the mission was unnatural,” she said. “Doesn’t that suggest magic to you, Mr. Lockerby?” She tisked at him and Alex caught himself blushing. “I though you were smarter than that. Now, why are you here?”

“Father Harry was a friend of mine,” he said.

“Who?” Sorsha asked. Alex strangled the urge to yell.

“The priest who ran the mission,” he said. “I’m here to make sure that the person who killed him,” Alex chose his next words carefully, “sees justice.”

Sorsha looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. “All right. But if I find out you’ve lied to me—”

“I know, I know.” Alex held up his hand. “You’ll have me drawn and quartered.”

“Something like that.” A cold, deadly smile crawled up Sorsha’s lips.

“If you two are quite finished,” Iggy said, exasperation in his voice. He waited until they both turned to him before continuing. “I’m afraid you’re wrong about this being magical, Miss Kincaid,” he said. “At least not in the way you mean. If this had been some kind of curse or rune, there wouldn’t have been trace bacteria in the blood samples.”

Sorsha nodded, a look of irritation on her face.

“Magic wouldn’t leave normal, biological traces,” she agreed. “So what is it then?”

“I think it’s some form of Alchemy,” Iggy said. “This disease has three distinct stages. The first takes the longest to be fatal. The affected person doesn’t even look sick for the first hour. After that, however, they deteriorate rapidly and death occurs about three hours later.”

“How do you know this?” Alex asked.

“We’ve tested it on mice,” Iggy said. “Now, the first person sick becomes infectious as soon as they begin to show symptoms, but their bodies are already producing the second type of the infection.”

Sorsha’s face was a mask of concentration. “So only the first person has the original disease,” she said. “The next group gets the second type.”

“Just so,” Iggy said. “That type is fatal within two hours of being infected.”

“What about the third type?” Alex asked.

“People with the second type produce the infection in its third phase,” Iggy said. “The third phase is just as deadly as the second, but people with the third type of the illness can’t infect anyone else.”

“So the first person can infect people,” Sorsha said. “And those people can infect others, but after that the disease just stops.”

Iggy nodded, then turned to Alex. “Now do you see why I called you down here?”

“No idea,” Alex said.

“Think about it,” Iggy said. “A disease that only kills for a short time and then stops, leaving no chance of an outbreak. This disease is not some horrible accident or magic gone wrong, it was designed this way. It’s a weapon.”

14 The Restaurateur

Alex suppressed a laugh. “That plague at the mission, a weapon? A weapon against what?” he said. “Dinner parties?”

“Yes,” Sorsha said. “And any other place where people gather. Office buildings, race tracks, army barracks, Grand Central Station, or a Dodgers game. Whoever made this could target any group of people without risking letting loose a plague. It’s a work of genius.” She sounded impressed, but Alex detected a tremor of fear in her voice.

Iggy nodded.

“So why is it here?” Alex asked. “Whoever made this thing didn’t do it to target a mission full of vagrants.”

“It was probably a test,” Iggy said.

“Maybe to prove to a buyer that the weapon did what its creator claimed it did,” Sorsha said. “Or as a dry run.”

“Which would mean,” Alex said, “that our mad scientist already has a target in mind?”

“The conference,” Sorsha gasped. “There’s a conference, Monday, on the European problem. Dignitaries and military leaders will be there from all over the world.”

“A conference? What’s this conference for?” he asked. Alex hadn’t heard about it, but that wasn’t surprising; politics in any form bored him.

“Don’t you read the news?” Sorsha rolled her eyes.

“Just the funny papers,” he said.

“Germany is saber-rattling again,” she explained. “Hitler has promised that he has no military intentions, but Europe’s worried. This conference is an attempt to get everyone talking.” She motioned Agent Davis over to her and began issuing orders to contact Washington and alert them to the threat. When she finished, he scurried off, and she turned back to Iggy.

“This conference is being held in the grand ballroom of the Waldorf Hotel,” she said. “Can you give me an idea of how this weapon could be used against the attendees?”

Iggy stroked his mustache for a moment, pondering the matter.

“Well, it’s too fragile to remain airborne for any length of time. That means that the disease would have to be spread inside the hotel.”

“Why not infect someone before the event?” Alex asked. “Let them carry it inside.”

“Too many variables,” Sorsha said, shaking her head. “What if the infected person felt sick and went to a doctor, or decided to stop for breakfast? The only way to ensure the weapon hits its target is to release it inside.”

Alex hadn’t thought of that, but it made sense. Sorsha was pretty good at her consultant job.