Chapter 27

Joe Connelly spent the night in one of the soap opera dressing rooms, wanting to be nearby if the worst-case scenario played out and the preliminary tests were wrong. If it turned out that anthrax had contaminated any part of the Broadcast Center, he needed to be there to deal with it.

After a night of restless half-sleep, he took a quick shower in the tiny bathroom, dressed in the fresh shirt and underwear he kept in his office for emergencies, and stopped in the cafeteria for a hot cup of coffee to carry back with him to the security command post.

Station Break was quiet at this early hour, but Edgar was already at work, stocking the coffee trolley.

“Mornin’.” The food service worker smiled.

“Good morning, Edgar. How’s it going?”

“Fine, sir. Just fine.”

“Glad to hear it.”

He watched the security boss stop to leave money at the register, as the cashier wasn’t in yet.

An honest person.

But they weren’t all like that. Some people thought it was fine to take tea bags, cereal, soda, juice—even cheese, right off the salad bar—without bothering to pay. Last week, someone he couldn’t believe had actually gone right into the kitchen and poured out a cup of powdered sugar. Edgar had pretended, as he always did, not to notice.

And he didn’t want any trouble.