Fatal Reaction

to it. Dr. Azorini, his number is 001, I guess because he’s the company’s number-one guy.” At this Bill laughed, amused by his own joke. “Then take me, my number is 214.”
    “Does that mean that every time you swipe your card the computer prints your number next to the time?” I offered.
    “That’s right. That’s right.”
    “So what’s been going on?”
    “Well, I think somebody’s been fiddling with the numbers.”
    “Fiddling how?” I demanded.
    “You know how Dr. Childress got found in the freezer yesterday. Well, his number was 321. I remember that because the cops wanted to see the whole log for last Friday— you know, the day they shut the building down—and they were looking for the time that number 321 swiped out, on account of it being Childress.”
    “Yes. That might turn out to be very important,” I said, realizing for the first time just how important. Whoever had killed Childress had had to make sure it looked like he had left the building, otherwise there would have been people looking high and low for him. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of this before.
    “But that’s why I think there’s somebody playing tricks on me,” continued Bill doggedly. “See here on the sheet for today, clear as day, ID number 321 logged in at seven-sixteen.”
    I looked at the sheet. Bill was right. It was there just as plain as day, ID number 321.
    “There must be some mistake,” I said.
    “That’s just what I was sitting here thinking when you came. But I’ll be darned if I can think of how they did it.”
    “Did number 321 log out yet today?” I asked, as a terrifying idea occurred to me.
    “No. I checked. That’s why I think it’s some kind of trick. There aren’t more than a dozen people left in the building this time of night, counting you and me, and most all of them’s up in the virology labs.”
    “And the building’s locked down for the night?” I asked him, trying to keep the urgency out of my voice. “The front door is the only way in or out?”
    “There’s the emergency exits in the basement, but there’s an alarm that goes off when you open one of them.”
    “Listen, Bill,” I said. “This could be serious. I want you to do something.”
    “What’s that?”
    “I want you to be sure to not let anybody leave the building until I tell you.”
    “I don’t think I get you....”
    “I’m going to go back to my office and make a phone call. In the meantime, I want you to make sure no one leaves the building.”
    “What am I supposed to tell them?” he protested.
    “Tell them it’s Dr. Azorini’s orders. It shouldn’t be for very long. Just until the police come.”
    “The police?” Bill demanded, alarm creeping into his voice. I was secretly amused to see his tough-guy act begin to evaporate at the merest hint of actual trouble.
    “It’s just a precaution. But first we’ve got to find out who’s been playing these tricks with Dr. Childress’s ID.”
     
    Quickly I made my way back to my office and rooted in the drawer for Detective Rankin’s card, the one he’d given me with his number on it. Whoever answered the phone informed me that Detective Rankin was unavailable. When I asked about Detective Masterson he told me that he was out on a call. Then I called Elliott and left a message with his answering service. I thought about what I had said to Paramilitary Bill about summoning the police, but now with the phone in my hand I found I had no one else to call. While I thought I had a good chance of being able to explain to one of the detectives assigned to investigate Childress’s murder my fears about his killer being in the building, the prospect of making the same point to the police dispatcher seemed hideously impractical.
    And yet there was someone in the building who had used Michael Childress’s ID to get into the building that morning. The only trouble was that I had no way of knowing who that person might be. Briefly, I considered setting off the fire alarm just to see who left the building, but I knew it was hooked up to a halon system that automatically dumped fire-retardant gas throughout the building. Halon puts out fires much more quickly than water does, but it is also much more expensive. Stephen complained that every false alarm cost him fifteen thousand dollars, but with so many valuable experiments underway in the building the halon system was essential.
    I figured it couldn’t hurt to take a walk through the