Pandemic

"Not always. In the last couple of years with SARS, the Avian Flu, and now the Gansu Flu, I have been gone for long stretches. Though, I know what you're getting at. Each time it does get harder to be away from my family… from Chloe." He hesitated. For a moment, he considered telling her about his own recent estrangement, but decided he didn't know Savard well enough to lay his mess at her feet. "I doubt I can do this for much longer, but one of the few perks of being an emerging pathogens expert is that you get to see the bugs where they live and kill, which thankfully is almost always some faraway exotic place." Then he added, "Or at least it used to be."

She brushed the strands of hair back from her eyes. "You didn't expect one to make its way so close to home."

He wet his dry lips with his tongue. "I never expected anyone to go to such an effort to bring it home."

Her eyes held his. "Does it really surprise you, Noah?" "Don't know about surprise, but it pisses me off." He paused, and then said quietly, "And it scares the hell out of me."

VANCOUVER, CANADA

Four Royal Canadian Mounted Police officers met them at the Vancouver International Airport. Haldane had the naive expectation that all Mounties routinely wore the red and black uniforms with jodhpurs and wide brim hats of the famous musical ride, but these RCMP wore standard gray-green police uniforms. The senior officer introduced herself as Sergeant Monique Tremblay, a homicide detective. Tremblay was tall, thin, and looked to be in her late forties. She spoke with a trace of a French-Canadian accent and with short hair brushed forward in gelled spears and her funky stained-glass earrings, she managed to infuse her nondescript uniform with a flare of elan.

"Parlez-vous francais?" Tremblay asked Savard when she heard the surname.

"Un peu, mais il y a personne ici avec qui je peut parler en francais," Gwen said, and then switched to English. "My dad was born in the States. He didn't speak any French. I took a few courses in college out of ancestral guilt."

"D'accord. I'm from Montreal, but no one speaks French in Vancouver, either." Tremblay smiled and led them to her unmarked police sedan waiting out front. Haldane climbed into the back, leaving the front seat for Savard. As they drove, Tremblay explained, "The body surfaced on the south bank of the Fraser River."

"Which is where?" Savard asked.

Tremblay pointed ahead to an approaching bridge. "We're just about to drive over the Fraser on the Arthur Laing Bridge. The river marks the southern border of Vancouver proper, dividing her from the suburbs like Richmond where we are now. Had she washed up on the Vancouver side, the RCMP wouldn't be involved. It would be a Vancouver Police Department matter," she said.

"Lucky you," Haldane said.

"You think?" Tremblay laughed. Once on the bridge she pointed to her right. "The body was found about four miles east of here by a man walking his dog along the river at dawn."

"And she had been shot?" Savard asked.

Tremblay nodded. "Small caliber bullet in the forehead. Exit wound in the back of her skull. No sign of the bullet."

"Any chance of suicide?" Savard asked.

"Doubtful," Tremblay said. "The Forensic Ident guys say that the gunshot wound is incompatible with self-induced injury, but more compelling are the deep gouges around her ankles."

Savard nodded. "Ligatures?"

"Yes," Tremblay said. "We believe she was weighted down by something, but her legs must have slipped free of the cord anchoring her."

Gwen looked over at the detective. "Can you describe her?"

"She was darker skinned — central Asian, Persian, or more likely of Arab origins. Probably mid-twenties. Five feet one inch with long curly black hair. No ID on her. Dressed in jeans and blouse. Her entire outfit came from the Gap, so it's not going to help us narrow down her origins much." Tremblay sighed. "Her description fits the one from the witnesses at the Vancouver Aquarium. Allegedly, she walked around the Aquarium going from show to show coughing on people." She smacked her steering wheel once with a clenched fist. "She has already killed a nineteen-year-old Aquarium employee. Who knows who is next? She might as well have emptied a loaded magazine into the crowd!"

"No leads?" Savard asked.

"Nothing so far. We don't know where she died, or even where the body was dumped. It's possible it was farther east toward New Westminster and then floated down. And there are no missing persons who fit her description." She sighed. "We need a big break on this one."

Haldane leaned forward and rested his elbows on the front seats' headrests. "I think her body surfacing is the break," he said. "Now we had better capitalize on it."