Messonier stared at him, uncomprehending, his tortoiseshell spectacles dangling forgotten from his fingers.
“The bodies of the dead on the street were hidden because they were evidence. It’s a plague outbreak.” His fingers tugged at his hair. “Have you vodka? Yes? Good. I don’t have enough courage for tea.”
Messonier quickly retrieved a bottle from the cupboard. “Who told you?”
“I entered Dr. Wu’s laboratory. Without permission.” He described the unsecured laboratory, the preserved specimens from the Japanese woman’s autopsy. “Results of the Loeffler’s test on the woman for plague were documented in Wu’s logbook. They were positive.”
Messonier stood in the middle of the room, holding the vodka bottle.
A sense of foreboding filled the Baron’s head like music. “Like an idiot, I entered the laboratory without proper protections.” He kept talking, reassuring himself, perhaps braiding a noose. “The Japanese woman was the only confirmed plague death. But everyone at the inn could be infected. And those who handled her body. Who knows how contagious it is? I trespassed but it was critical to know the truth.” Was it his imagination or did an expression of fear flicker across Messonier’s face? There was an invisible presence in the room. “I wouldn’t be here if I believed it was a risk for you. I touched nothing that could put me in danger. Everything in the laboratory remained just as I found it. I didn’t handle the specimens. I only read the logbook.”
Vodka was poured and Messonier handed a full glass to the Baron. Then he fished a thermometer from a jar of disinfectant, held up the tiny silver wand, his expression a question. “This is probably overly cautious,” Messonier murmured. He inserted the thermometer in the Baron’s mouth and waited, counting under his breath, scrutinizing his face. “Time is up.”
The Baron squinted at the thermometer, and its red line was within the normal range. He swallowed the shot of vodka, then dropped the thermometer in the empty glass with a sharp ting. He nodded at the other man.
“Welcome back. Even if you were ill, I wouldn’t recognize your symptoms. I have no experience with plague.”
The Baron noticed Messonier’s slight hesitation. “So you won’t order me into quarantine?”
“Dieu. You’re the only doctor who has the ability to do something here.”
“Now that you’ve cleared my good name”—he waved aside Messonier’s protest—“let me make a prediction. The deaths at Chalainor, Manchouli, Hailar, Puhudu, and south of us in Mukden were plague deaths. The infection must be spread by passengers on the train, station to station.”
“The corpses from all the stations should be tested. We could learn how quickly plague spreads. Maybe the dead men were acquainted. Or they occupied the same train.”
The Baron gulped another vodka. “Exhume the bodies. Freeze them. Ship them to Kharbin in lead-lined caskets.”
“Even so, it isn’t safe to transport them by train.”
“Agreed. It would be a disaster if one of the esteemed shipping clerks on the CER train was curious about the casket contents. Perhaps deploy soldiers to escort the caskets here.”
“You have General Khorvat’s ear. But I imagine that tracking the bodies is probably impossible by now.” Messonier looked stricken. “I just remembered Wu invited several men into his laboratory for a tour.”
“What? Who?”
“The dao tai, the magistrate, and the chief of police.”
“Holy Mother of God.” The Baron imagined the men crowded into the small laboratory, curious innocents carelessly touching everything with bare hands, politely marveling at bacilli under the microscope’s glass eye without comprehension. It was a fine theatrical show for Wu. A performing bear in a cage. “The men should all be isolated and watched.”
Messonier raised his eyebrows. “Tell me which official would be willing to issue that order.”
If the honorable officials had been infected during this foolish laboratory inspection, it would actually serve a purpose, creating alarm, bringing aid and money into Kharbin. If he survived, Dr. Wu would be elevated to prominence. Everything—rule of law, civic duty, a doctor’s oath—was expendable.
The Baron groaned aloud but didn’t realize it until he caught the concerned expression on Messonier’s face. “How could Dr. Wu expose anyone to live plague bacilli?” he said.
“He’s foolhardy. Or ignorant. Or a gambler. The new medical team arrived in Kharbin to counter the plague. Wait and see how it’s announced.”
“Doesn’t matter. The plague has the next move.” The Baron was swept by panic. He felt his jowls sag, mouth droop, brows join in a frown. He checked to see if Messonier had noticed that his features—eyes, lips, nose—had been pasted on a mask of fear. His next swallow of vodka was automatic, unstringing the tension in his body, and he experienced a momentary fleeting spaciousness from care, followed by dull apprehension.
For the first time the Baron sensed he was being watched. His calculations, the information he’d gathered in the laboratory, encounters with the sick, and rumors of the dead were known to others and had been tallied. Perhaps it was the dead woman in the inn who watched him. According to Chinese belief, those who were murdered, who were suicides, or who had no surviving male descendants to provide for them in the afterlife become gui, hungry ghosts condemned to wander for eternity.
Two bodies abandoned on the tracks at Central Station in Kharbin. A man’s corpse on the street by Churin’s department store. A partially clothed woman’s body at a Fuchiatien inn. A man’s body at the Railway Club. Some details of the corpses were similar: no broken bones, cuts, or visible injuries. Faces discolored. Clothing showed evidence of bleeding. Bodies may have been moved after death. All but one of them frozen. Cause of death: unknown ailment or misadventure. Only one body had been identified. No witnesses.
A massive red wax seal, blind stamp, and a tricolor ribbon were affixed to this official report. Without signing it, the Baron refolded the thick papers, careful of the wax seal, and gently returned it to General Khorvat. He’d been requested to review the document in Khorvat’s office. Now he understood the loophole that the general wanted closed. He placed his fountain pen on Khorvat’s desk to show he didn’t intend to sign the report.
Khorvat ignored this. “Baron le docteur, once you’ve signed the paper, it will be translated from Russian into English and delivered to Dr. Wu. I believe in full cooperation with the Chinese. Any objections?”
“Please explain how the bodies found on the streets disappeared. Where were they taken?”
Khorvat snapped, “I won’t rehearse my decisions with you. It’s not for you to judge.” His thick finger jabbed in the Baron’s direction. “The five deaths are mysterious but don’t merit extraordinary concern. Perhaps the dead were suicides. Took poison. Miscalculated a dose of opium. Or were drunk and froze to death. Not uncommon.”
The Baron couldn’t allow Khorvat to build a case for random deaths and then disagree with him. He’d risk insubordination and the general would look like a fool. His throat tightened with anxiety as he prepared to speak. “I visited Dr. Wu’s new laboratory.”
“And?”
“Bacillus pestis. Plague. The dead woman at the Fuchiatien inn was infected with plague.”
“One infected woman. One. In a city of tens of thousands. A single confirmed death is sobering but not of great consequence.”
He’d had a forbidding sense of recognition before Khorvat had spoken, anticipating his answer. “Yes, one woman. But everyone around her, the guests, former guests, and workers at the inn, should all be examined for symptoms. Residents from surrounding buildings should be questioned.”