Winter was painfully aware of the city’s police force standing around her as she stared at Adams’s body. She recognized a few of the guards from her time working at the station, which only added to her anxiety. Fighting to keep her hand steady, she capped the final vial she’d brought for samples. The needle she’d used to draw blood went into the room’s biohazard bin.
“I’ll test the samples, but based on his appearance, I agree with the coroner’s initial findings,” Winter said. “He had red plague, yellow plague, and either green or blue. Possibly both. I won’t be sure about violet until my tests come back. That one tends to have a longer incubation time.”
The guard captain assigned to the investigation, Captain Perry, nodded. “Have your results delivered directly to the north station as soon as you’re done.”
“Of course.” Winter examined the blood sample one more time before sliding it into one of her coat pockets. “Anything else?”
Perry folded his arms. “In your opinion, Plague Saint, what are the chances of someone like Adams catching three or more plagues in such a short span of time?”
“He does work in a hospital,” Winter deadpanned.
“But we’ve never seen anything like this before.”
Winter gritted her teeth. “I have, actually. I have several recorded cases of this happening to other people. Adams is just the first one the city actually cares about.”
Maybe she should have left that last part out. Perry lifted an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware of that.” Was he more surprised by her statement, or the ferocity with which she’d delivered it?
“I’d be happy to send you the case files.” Winter picked up her staff form where it leaned against the table holding Adams’s body.
“I’ll give you a call if I have any other questions,” Perry said.
“Great,” Winter muttered.
Phoebe looked up from her notebook when Winter returned to the office. Her expectant gaze followed Winter all the way to the lab door.
Winter paused with one hand on the door handle. “Yes?”
“Well?” Phoebe asked.
“Well what?”
“What did the city guard want with you?”
Winter pulled out her sample vials and held them up for Phoebe to see. Blood and saliva. “I have to run tests and let them know exactly which plagues he had.”
Winter had half-expected Phoebe to wince at the sight of the samples, but her expression didn’t change. “So, did they tell you why they’re getting involved with a plague death?”
“It’s not my job to worry about that,” Winter replied as she returned the vials to her coat. “And if they’re looking for something beyond bad luck on Adams’s part, they’re going to be disappointed.” Hopefully.
“So, you don’t think it was—” Phoebe leaned forward and lowered her voice. “—murder?”
Winter froze. There it was. No one else had said the word out loud, yet she couldn’t shake the fear that it was what everyone was thinking. She shook her head. “What on earth would make you say that?”
Phoebe shrugged. “The whole thing is just weird. I think we should look into it.”
“We?” Winter’s hands tightened. “The city guard is already investigating. What could we possibly find that they can’t?”
“I have a theory,” Phoebe replied, her voice low and conspiratorial again. “I think whoever killed Adams killed a few other people as well. Some of the deaths in the hospital that were supposedly from plagues shouldn’t have happened. People who were getting better and should have recovered.” She reached for a stack of papers on the small table by her chair. “I’ve been analyzing files since I got here. I’ve only gone back a few months, but—”
Phoebe was far smarter than Winter had given her credit for, Winter realized as her assistant’s rambling continued. And she wasn’t entirely wrong. The Plague Saint was responsible for those deaths, and if Winter was the Saint now, then the Saint was responsible for Adams’s death as well.
“What, you think someone snuck into the hospital and killed them?” Winter asked when Phoebe finally paused for air. She hoped her skeptical tone would deter Phoebe from her theories.
“A lot of those people still owe the hospital money,” Phoebe said. “Maybe we could go talk to them under the guise of reminding them about payment and ask a few questions. See if they all had someone in common that might want them dead.”
Why did Phoebe care about this? “I thought you didn’t want to go into debt collection.”
“I don’t, but we don’t have to let whoever replaces Adams know that.” Phoebe’s brow furrowed. “Who is replacing him, anyway?”
“No one knows yet. The mayor’s supposed to assign someone soon.” Another powerful member of the elite to replace Adams. Cut one head off…
“Well? Are you interested?”
The last thing Winter wanted to do was walk around the city for a few hours in this stupid uniform. “I have a lot of work to do here,” she said. “But…”
What good would supervising Phoebe do? Adams’s murderer wasn’t some serial killer sneaking around the hospital. It was her, and she’d killed him to protect herself and her family. And countless other innocent people.
And he was a terrible person with a lot of power, she reminded herself.
Winter pushed aside those thoughts. It would be interesting to see how Phoebe went about her investigation. And maybe Winter could figure out why she was so invested in this. There had to be more to it than simple curiosity.
“I know a girl who works at the north guard station,” Winter finally said. “She’s not one of them, she’s just an administrative assistant—she has a similar job to you, actually. Her name’s Winter Pierce.”
Phoebe perked up. “How do you know her?”
“I’m familiar with a lot of people at the guard station. For arranging debt collection and whatnot,” Winter replied. “If I tell her you’re coming, she might be willing to help you out. She’ll have access to addresses, too. That should make it easier for you.”
The hospital records office had the addresses, too, and they’d be easier to steal from than the guard station. Winter’s mind raced. If she met Phoebe on the street outside the station, she could probably get away with the lie.
“Oh, well, I guess I could head over to the guard station after my shift.” Phoebe stood up. “I mean, if that’s all right. I should be done filing new reports by four.”
“I’ll have to call the station first and check with her.” Winter eyed the telephone sitting on her desk. “While I do that, could you go check my inbox?”
“In the main office?” Phoebe didn’t even attempt to hide the hesitation in her tone. It was a long walk. Which was just what Winter needed.
“Yes. Please.” Winter started toward the desk. “Like I said, I’m busy. So, it’s either that, or I find something else for you to do that might take even longer.” And cut into your time playing detective.
Phoebe swallowed and nodded. “Right away, sir.”
Winter felt a slight pang of guilt as Phoebe hurried out of the office, but she brushed it off. She was helping Phoebe enough as it was.
Things had been quiet all morning, patient-wise. There was the chaos surrounding Adams’s death, but that was all the more reason to leave earlier in the evening. There was enough medicine on hand for other doctors to stabilize any new patients that popped up, and Winter had her remote radio to listen for any sudden outbreaks.
Since there was no need to make a real phone call, Winter stepped into the lab and started a mental list of tasks to finish before leaving to help Phoebe with her investigation. First were the sample tests, of course. The violet test would take the longest, but even that would be done in a couple of hours. That would give her time to hunt down some case files she could send along to Captain Perry that would prove Adams’s death wasn’t unprecedented.
Then, she had to make her afternoon rounds and check on River. If he was conscious, she wanted to visit him out of costume before meeting Phoebe.
And, while her shorter tests ran, Winter had to work on decoding the new journal. She was sure she was close, but she just hadn’t been able to catch a minute to take a good look. She also wanted to do another sweep of the secret lab sometime soon. There had been labeled diagrams of the empty cages in some of the journal pages she’d flipped through. Maybe there were clues around them she’d missed.
She set up the sample tests, left a note on Phoebe’s chair informing her that Winter would be able to meet her that evening, and headed down to the secret lab armed with the journal.
The five words across the top of the page she’d been focused on were definitely the plague colors, Winter decided. The words all being in black would make deciphering them trickier, but it was doable. With her own pen and a spare piece of paper, Winter scribbled down the colors. Red. Blue. Green. Yellow. Violet.
Sfe had to be red, cmvf blue, and…if hsffo was green, then f definitely meant e. One letter off…was that all it was? Winter’s eyes widened. S became r, f became e, e became d.
At first, she thought it was too simple for a secret code made by someone who was supposedly a genius, but then she realized that despite its simplicity, it was still a pain in the ass to translate. It would presumably get easier as she started to pick up on which letters went with which without having to mentally run through the alphabet, but she didn’t make it that far. She only translated one sentence—plague combinations can be constructed with varying incubation times based on which are used—when the timer she’d brought down with her went off. Time to check on the tests.
Winter left the notebook, figuring she’d come back to it as soon as she could, and no one else knew about the place, anyway. She threw the empty cages one last glance before making the trip to the upper lab.
The violet plague hadn’t taken hold after all, but on top of red and yellow, Adams tested positive for both blue and green. Dread settled over Winter, who’d hoped only one would show up. The more plagues the dead director had, the more suspicious the whole incident was.
She dug out the massive camera stored in the lab and photographed her results. While they took their time developing, she wrote up a report.
Armed with her results, Winter left the lab. “Phoebe?”
Phoebe, back in the office now, looked up from her paperwork. “Yes?”
“Could you spare a moment to round up files on patients who were diagnosed with multiple plagues? Preferably those with three, at least.” Winter opened a desk drawer and pulled out a large envelope.
“Sure thing.” Phoebe jumped up and walked to the filing cabinet. “So, what’s Winter like?”
Winter slid the lab report and photos into the envelope. “Hm?”
“Winter Pierce. What’s she like?” Phoebe asked as she eased open a particularly creaky drawer. “I thought it might be nice to know a bit about her before I meet her.”
“I don’t know her that well. I’ve only interacted with her briefly.” What did Winter even want Phoebe to think of her? “She does seem to be a bit on the quiet side, so I wouldn’t be offended if she doesn’t warm up to you quickly.”
Phoebe laughed. “I put up with you, don’t I?”
Winter’s hands tightened around the envelope. “Sure,” she muttered.
After opening and closing a few more drawers, Phoebe came to the desk with a stack of files. “You want copies of these?”
Winter glanced at the pile. “I’ll pick out a few and have you copy those while I make my rounds.”
“Sounds good.”
Winter selected some prime examples for Captain Perry to study. Four cases of patients with three plagues, all who died within twenty-four hours of showing symptoms. On top of that, she was lucky enough to stumble across a four-plague case. That patient died less than two hours after showing up at the hospital.
While Phoebe made the copies, Winter went on her rounds, updating treatment schedules and adjusting doses. Her final stop was River.
He was awake, sitting up, and apparently feeling well enough to get down spoonfuls of soup while Winter checked his vitals.
“So, what’s the word, doc?” he asked as she made notes in his file.
“Word on what?” Winter answered blankly.
“How long until I’m out of here and back to work?”
Winter tapped her pen against her clipboard. “You’ll be on bedrest for the rest of the week, at least. I can’t recommend you checking out until you go three full days without coughing up blood.”
“But I’m feeling much better already.”
“You’d collapse as soon as you stood up. Trust me, I’ve seen dozens just like you.” Winter turned to leave.
“Not one for light conversation, are you?” River chuckled. “You remind me of my sister.”
Winter froze. “Just…try to get some rest.”