Toxin (45 page)

“When Tracy wasn't here?”

“That's right.”

“How did he get in?”

“I don't know,” Mrs. English said. “I think he had a key because he opened the front door.”

“Was he a big man with dark hair?”

“No, he was average-height with blond hair,” Mrs. English said. “Very well dressed. Like a banker or lawyer.”

“And then what happened?” Kelly asked.

“Nothing. The man never left and when it got dark, he didn't even turn on a light. Tracy didn't come back until late with another blond man. This man was bigger and had on a white coat.”

“You mean like a doctor?” Kelly asked. She winked at Brian.

“Or a butcher,” Mrs. English said. “Anyway, Tracy didn't come to talk with me like she said she would. She just went into the house with the second man.”

“And then what happened?”

“They were all inside for a while. Then the first man came out and drove away. A little while later, Tracy and the other man came out with suitcases.”

“Suitcases like they were going on a trip?”

“Yes. But it was a strange time to go on a trip. It was nearly midnight. I know because it was the latest I've stayed up for as long as I can remember.”

“Thank you, Mrs. English,” Kelly said. “You've been most helpful.” Kelly motioned for Brian to leave.

“Am I going to be on TV?” Mrs. English asked.

“We'll let you know,” Kelly said. She waved and walked back to her car. She climbed in. Brian got into the passenger seat.

“This story keeps getting better,” Kelly said. “I wouldn't have guessed in all the world, but Tracy Reggis has apparently decided to go on the lam with her fugitive former husband. And to think she seemed like such a sensible person. I'm blown away!”

 

B
y three o'clock the chaos of the lunchtime rush finally faded in the Onion Ring restaurant on Prairie Highway, and the exhausted day shift gathered up their things and left: everyone except for Roger Polo, the manager. As conscientious as he was, he couldn't leave until he was sure there was a smooth transition to the evening shift. Only then would he turn things over to Paul, the cook, who acted as the supervisor in Roger's absence.

Roger was busy installing a new tape in one of the cash registers when Paul arrived at his station behind the grill and began arranging the utensils the way he liked them.

“Much traffic today?” Roger asked while snapping the register's cowling shut.

“Not bad,” Paul said. “Was it a busy day here?”

“Very busy,” Roger said. “There must have been twenty people waiting to get in when I opened the doors, and it never let up.”

“Did you see the morning's paper?” Paul asked.

“I wish,” Roger said. “I didn't even have a chance to sit down to eat.”

“You better read it,” Paul said. “That crazy doctor that came in here Friday murdered a guy out at Higgins and Hancock last night.”

“No kidding!” Roger blurted. He was genuinely dumbstruck.

“Some poor Mexican guy with six kids,” Paul said. “Shot him through the eye. Can you imagine?”

There was no way Roger could imagine. He leaned on the countertop. His legs felt wobbly. He'd been mad about being struck in the face; now he felt lucky. He shuddered to think of what might have happened had the doctor brought a gun when he'd come to the Onion Ring.

“When your time's up, it's up,” Paul said philosophically. He turned around and opened the refrigerator. Looking into the patty box, he could see it was almost empty.

“Skip!” Paul yelled. He'd seen Skip out in the restaurant proper emptying the trash containers.

“Do you have the newspaper?” Roger asked.

“Yeah,” Paul said. “It's on the table in the employee room. Help yourself.”

“What's up?” Skip asked. He'd come to the outer side of the counter.

“I need more burgers from the walk-in,” Paul said. “And while you're at it, bring a couple of packages of buns.”

“Can I finish what I'm doing first?” Skip asked.

“No,” Paul said. “I need 'em now. I only have two patties left.”

Skip muttered under his breath as he rounded the counter and headed to the restaurant's rear. He liked to
finish one job before starting another. It was also beginning to bug him that everybody in the whole place could boss him around.

Skip pulled open the heavy, insulated door to the freezer and stepped into the arctic chill. The automatic door closed behind him. He pushed back the flaps of the first carton on the left but found it was empty. He cursed loudly. His colleague equivalent on the day shift always left him things to do. This empty carton would have to be cut down for recycling.

Skip went to the next carton and found that one empty as well. Picking up both cartons, he opened the door and threw them out of the freezer. Then he walked into the depths of the walk-in to locate the reserve patty cartons. He scraped the frost off the label on the nearest one he could find. It said:
MERCER MEATS
.
REG
. 0.1
LB HAMBURGER PATTIES
,
EXTRA LEAN
.
LOT
6
BATCH
9-14.
PRODUCTION
:
JAN
. 12,
USE BY
:
APR
. 12.

“I remember this baby,” Skip said out loud. He checked the flaps. Sure enough, the carton had been opened.

To be certain there weren't any older patties, Skip scraped off the frost from the label of the final carton. The date was the same.

Grabbing the first carton by its flaps, Skip dragged it to the front of the freezer. Only then did he reach inside to pull out one of the interior boxes. As he'd expected this box had been opened as well.

Skip carried the patty box back to the kitchen, and after squeezing by Paul who was busy scraping the residue off the grill, Skip put the patty box in the refrigerator.

“We're finally using those burgers I opened by
accident a week or so ago,” Skip said as he slammed the refrigerator door.

“That's cool as long as the other ones are finished,” Paul said, without looking up from his labors.

“I checked,” Skip said. “The older ones are all gone.”

 

T
he large wall clock on the wall of the WENE news-room gave Kelly the exact time. It was 6:07. The local news had been on since five-thirty. Her segment was scheduled to begin at 6:08, and the technician was still fumbling with her microphone. As usual Kelly's pulse was racing.

One of the large TV cameras suddenly was rolled into place directly in front of her. The cameraman was nodding and speaking softly into his headphone. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the director pick up his microphone wire and hear in her direction. In the background she could hear the anchor, Marilyn Wodinsky, finishing a wrap-up of the national news.

“Good grief,” Kelly snapped. She pushed away the technician's hand and rapidly secured the microphone herself. It was a good thing because within seconds the the director held up five fingers and gave the countdown, ending by pointing at Kelly. Simultaneously the camera in front of Kelly went live.

“Good evening, everyone,” Kelly said. “We have an in-depth report this evening concerning a sad local story; a story that plays like a Greek tragedy. A year ago we had a picture-perfect family. The father was one of the country's most renowned cardiac surgeons; the mother, a psychotherapist, highly regarded in her own right; and the daughter, a darling, talented ten-year-old, considered by
some as a rising star in figure skating. The denouement started presumably with the merger of the University Hospital and the Samaritan. Apparently, this put pressure on the marriage. Soon after, a bitter divorce and custody battle ensued. Then a few days ago, on Saturday afternoon, the daughter died of a strain of E. coli which has surfaced in intermittent outbreaks around the country. Dr. Kim Reggis, the father, pushed to the limit by the sad disintegration of his life, decided that the local beef industry was responsible for his daughter's death. He became convinced that his daughter had contracted the toxin from an Onion Ring restaurant in the area. The Onion Ring chain gets its burgers from Mercer Meats, and Mercer Meats gets a significant amount of its beef from Higgins and Hancock. The distraught Dr. Kim Reggis disguised himself as a blond drifter, obtained employment under an alias at Higgins and Hancock, and shot dead another Higgins and Hancock employee. The deceased is Carlos Mateo, who leaves behind a disabled wife and six young children.

“WENE has learned from the authorities that a gun left at the scene had been registered to the doctor and that his fingerprints were found on it.

“Dr. Reggis is now a fugitive and is being actively sought by the police. In a bizarre twist to the story, his former wife, Tracy Reggis, has apparently joined him in flight. At this time it is unknown if she is being coerced or acting under her own volition.

“To follow up on this story, WENE interviewed Mr. Carl Stahl, CEO of Foodsmart, Incorporated. I asked Mr. Stahl if Becky Reggis could have contracted her E. coli from an Onion Ring restaurant.”

Kelly breathed a sigh of relief. A makeup person appeared from behind the background screen and adjusted
a few wisps of hair and powdered her forehead. Meanwhile Carl Stahl's face appeared on the studio's monitor.

“Thank you, Kelly, for this opportunity to speak to your viewers,” Carl said solemnly. “First let me say that having known Tracy and Becky Reggis personally, I'm crushed by this sad affair. But to answer your question, there is no way Miss Reggis could have contracted her illness from an Onion Ring restaurant. We cook our burgers to 178 degrees interior temperature, which is higher than what is recommended by the FDA, and we insist our chefs check this temperature twice a day.”

The director again pointed at Kelly, and the red light on top of the camera in front of her blinked on.

“I posed the same question to Jack Cartwright of Mercer Meats,” Kelly said, looking directly into the camera.

Once again Kelly visibly relaxed as the monitor came back to life. This time it was Jack Cartwright's image.

“Mercer Meats supplies the Onion Ring chain with their hamburger patties,” Jack said. “They are made from the finest ‘extra lean' ground beef, so there is no way that someone could have gotten sick from one of their burgers. Mercer Meats adheres to, in fact, surpasses all USDA requirements for meat processing in terms of sanitation and sterilization. The Onion Ring restaurants have the finest ingredients that money and technology can buy.”

Without a second's hesitation Kelly cut in at the conclusion of Jack Cartwright's taped interview. “And finally I posed the identical question to Mr. Daryl Webster, acting head of Higgins and Hancock.”

The monitor came alive for the third time. “The Onion Ring makes its burgers from the best meat in the world,” Daryl said contentiously, poking his finger at the camera. “And I dare anyone to dispute that. We here at Higgins and
Hancock are proud to provide their supplier, Mercer Meats, with their fresh beef. And let me say this, I think it's a tragedy that one of our best employees has been murdered in this cold-blooded fashion. All I can hope is that this fruitcake is brought to justice before he kills someone else.”

Kelly raised her eyebrows as the camera in front of her went live again. “As you can see, emotions are running high in the aftermath of this murder and a young girl's tragic death. So there you have it, the story of the Reggis family, and its tragic consequences. WENE will bring you more as soon as it is available. Over to you, Marilyn.”

 

K
elly exhaled loudly and detached her microphone. In the background Marilyn's voice could be heard: “Thank you, Kelly, for that heartbreaking and disturbing story. Now on to other local news . . .”

Kelly activated the automatic garage door and then stepped out of her car as it began to shut. She slung her shoulder bag over her shoulder and climbed the three steps from the garage into the house.

The house was quiet. She had expected to see Caroline sitting on the gingham couch watching her half hour of allotted television, but the TV was off and Caroline was nowhere in sight. All Kelly could hear was the faint clicking of a computer keyboard coming from the library.

Kelly opened the refrigerator and poured herself some juice. Glass in hand, she passed through the dining room and poked her head into the library. Edgar was at the computer. Walking in, she gave him a peck on the cheek, which he accepted without taking his eyes off the monitor.

“That was an interesting piece you did on Dr. Reggis,” Edgar said. He double-clicked his mouse and looked up.

“You think so?” Kelly said without a lot of enthusiasm. “Thanks.”

“A sad story for everyone involved,” Edgar said.