Pandemic

A fully garbed attendant met them at the doors to the elevator and directed them to the end of the hallway. After three knocks, the door opened. On the other side stood a bald man, wearing a mask and pajamas that looked loose on his thin frame. Because of the man's mask and lack of hair, Haldane had difficulty placing his age. Though he would have guessed Nigel Collins was close to his own age, somewhere in his late thirties.

After introductions, they followed Collins back to the small sitting room. As in the hospital in Jiayuguan City, Haldane found it awkward to conduct an interview with a group of masked people. Without seeing people's faces, it was difficult to read much into their responses.

"Where are you from, Mr. Collins?" Levine began.

"Call me Nigel," Collins said in a thick Liverpool accent, making him sound to Haldane like John or Paul from an early Beatles' interview. "Liverpool originally but live in Birmingham now. One of the local reps. Steelworkers union." He laughed. "Lucky me, name got drawn to come down for the big convention and stay in this swish hotel. Hah!"

"When did you first fall ill?" Levine asked.

"Four days ago!" he said, shifting constantly in his seat "Hit me like a train. Woke up and couldn't move. Burning up. And the pain! Felt as if my arms and legs had gone through the rolling presses. Then the cough came. Crikey!" He guffawed. "Had me thinking that the smokes finally caught up with me!"

"Were you short of breath, Nigel?" Haldane asked.

Collins hemmed and hawed. "When the coughing spasms came, couldn't stop to catch my breath. Between times, not so bad. No idea it was possible to feel so weak, though. Raising a cup of water took both hands, if I could at all." He blew out so heavily that his mask fluttered over his mouth. "Then yesterday the fever broke quick as it came. By evening time felt almost normal again." He pulled at his pajama tops. "Except skinnier."

"Nigel, where do you think you might have caught this virus?" Haldane asked.

"Not think!" He puffed out his mask again. "Know!"

"And where is that?" Haldane said.

"Lovely little waif of a girl," he said and then looked at Nancy Levine. "Sorry, Doctor, it's just that—"

"Mr. Collins," she cut him off impatiently. "Could you describe her please?"

He offered a similar description of the woman as Veronica Mathews had, and then he said, "Around suppertime. I stood beside her waiting for the lift. Kind of swayed on her feet the whole time. Not well at all. Coughing the whole ride up. Still she covered her mouth, polite-like, and she wasn't exactly hard on the eyes." Again, he glanced to Levine. "You know what—"

"I know exactly what you mean," she snapped. "Which floor did she get off?"

"Same as me. Twenty-seventh." He guffawed. "Union boys outdid themselves, getting me a room on the top floor!"

"You rode the whole way up with her?" Haldane asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Did you ever see the woman again?"

Collins shook his head.

"Did you remember seeing a mother and two little girls board the elevator?" Haldane asked.

"Another beauty, right?" Collins asked and then shrugged at Levine apologetically. "I can't help noticing, Doctor."

"Apparently not," Levine said. "Mrs. Mathews is tall with dark hair and large eyes. A former model with daughters aged four and five. Does that sound like her?"

"Exactly like!" Collins said. "Except she wasn't in the lift. I had seen her at the pool with her girls once or twice."

"You sure she wasn't in the elevator?" Haldane asked.

"Not with me or the coughing girl," Collins said. "At least not on the way up. I can't speak for the way down."

"Meaning?" Haldane asked.

"Well, when I got to my room, I turned around for one last little peep," he said sheepishly without looking to Levine. "The girl had sort of collapsed against the wall by the lift. Thought about going back to see if I could help. Then the lift door opened. She stumbled back in." He paused. "Never really thought much of it, but don't know why she bothered going all the way to the top just to turn around and head down. Maybe she missed her floor?"

Haldane rose from his seat, suppressing the urge to jump out of it. "Thank you, Nigel, you've been extremely helpful," he said as he headed for the door.

Out in the hallway, McLeod stopped him. "What's buzzing in your bonnet, Haldane?"

Haldane pointed at his chest. "Explain to me why a woman so sick that she can barely stand rides the elevator from the lobby to the top and then heads back down."

"Shite, how do I know? Maybe Nigel was right?" McLeod said. "Maybe she was so sick that she missed her floor."

"Then why did she go all the way down to the lobby and ride back up with the Mathews family?" Haldane asked.

"How do you know she didn't take another trip later in the day?" McLeod asked.

"Remember?" Haldane tapped the back of his hand against his other palm. "Both Nigel and Veronica said it was just before suppertime!"

McLeod tilted his head from side to side, wavering.