“I have met many of you personally this weekend,” Ellen began, “and some of you know me from previous visits to the Congress. I’m Ellen Golden,” she explained for the others who might not recognize her, “and I’ve called this meeting because I’m afraid we have a very serious problem. I should say, a crisis.” She paused. A loud murmur rippled through the audience. “Before I give you the details, I want to assure you that every possible precaution is being taken, and that we have the best medical personnel available for your consultation.”
Sid tapped her on the shoulder.
“Don’t let them know anyone’s died,” he whispered. “Not yet.”
“But … all right,” she said. She turned back to her audience. “Three people, one a member of our staff and two guests, have come down with what has been positively diagnosed as cholera.”
For a short moment there was complete silence. It reminded Sid of the hushed moment right before a tornado hits. He was sure the response resulted from a mixture of things—disbelief, ignorance and delayed reaction. “Now,” Ellen started, but the eye of the storm had passed. People began to scream and a few of them even cried. Hundreds of people shouted questions at her. A few had backed toward the doors. Ellen put her hands up and gestured for quiet.
“Please, we have to remain calm,” she said. “If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll answer whatever questions I can. Those I can’t, will be answered by the professionals up here with me.”
“Why did you bring us all together?” a man in the first row shouted. There were many, many seconds.
“There is no danger whatsoever in your being together. That is not how the disease is spread. The doctor will explain more about that shortly. First, let me bring you up to date on what is happening. Please.” There were attempts to quiet one another and calm the children. The noise subsided. “Public health authorities have been brought in and certain actions, under their direction, have already been instituted.”
“We all just better get the hell outta here,” someone shouted. The seconding began again.
“NO, YOU CAN’T,” Ellen’s voice bounced off the walls. The speakers had been turned up to maximum just at the right moment. It held back a mass exodus. “THE HOTEL HAS BEEN PLACED UNDER QUARANTINE.”
“Oh my God!” The words reverberated like in an echo chamber in an amusement park.
“We will explain exactly what that means in a few minutes. But first, I want you to know what’s being done to protect you.” The noise did not subside. “Please, won’t you let me speak?” Her sincerity, her composure, her firm determination to stand her ground gradually won out.
“Please, let me continue. If not, you’ll frighten yourselves unnecessarily.” She paused dramatically, seizing more control of the crowd by forcing them to grow even quieter.
“The disease is not spread through the air you breathe. It is spread through contaminated food or water. You have to take it into your mouths.”
For a good moment, Ellen had control of their attention. Then a woman fainted. She simply fell over her chair near the center aisle. All hell broke loose again.
“She must have it,” another woman screamed. Those closest to the fallen woman pushed back. Others, too far in the rear to see exactly what had happened shouted for information. Exaggerations were passed along the way. The hysteria mounted in a chorus of shouts and warnings as people got up to leave. Ellen turned with a pleading look to Sid. Two of the public health nurses had gone down to treat the woman who had fallen.
“These people are going to trample each other,” Sid said. They both looked down at the Sheriff who had taken a position in the front. He stepped forward, drew his revolver from his shoulder holster and fired a blank at the floor just where the musicians’ pit met with the stage. The blast echoed off the nightclub walls in a thunderous reverberation. Everyone grew still; even the bawling children paused.
“YOU’VE GOT TO GET A HOLD OF YOURSELVES,” Ellen screamed. “WE HAVE PROCEDURES DESIGNED TO PROTECT AND HELP YOU, BUT IF YOU DON’T LISTEN, YOU WON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.”
“Let her talk,” a man shouted.
“Give her a chance.”
“Shut up, everybody!”
“We’ve got to prevent this kind of hysteria from taking hold,” Ellen said, composed again. “Now let me tell you what has been done. First, all-new foodstuff has been ordered and received. All of the old food has been disposed of. Every piece of kitchen equipment is being sterilized again and again. And our water has been analyzed and found germ free.”
“She’s holding them now,” Sid said to no one in particular. The public health nurses had brought the woman in the audience back to consciousness and had her sitting up in a chair.
“On the stage with me here are members of the county’s public health nurse department and Dr. Bronstein, our local physician. There are other doctors in the hotel as well. They will be available to you at all times to answer questions or to examine anyone who thinks he might be ill.”
“What about this quarantine?” someone shouted.
“Quarantine is standard procedure when cholera is discovered. We’re simply not sure who might have been contaminated and who might not have been,” Ellen said. Her honest reply had a sobering effect. “The quarantine will last for the next six days.”
A roar went up from the crowd. Some people were shouting their absolute refusal to cooperate. Others were expressing reasons for having to leave on schedule. Still others were reinforcing and supporting those who vocalized their dissatisfaction.
“We better get into specifics,” Sid said and went to the microphone. The sound of a new voice drew back the audience’s attention.
“Please, let us have your attention a little while longer. My name is Dr. Bronstein. Mrs. Golden’s statements are correct. The law is very specific, and it must be followed not only to protect you, but to protect other people on the outside who could possibly be infected. The hotel has been sealed off. Local and state law enforcement officers are serving as security.
“You’ve turned this place into a damn prison,” a man shouted. There were many shouts of agreement.
“I assure you,” Ellen said, taking the microphone again, “that none of the hotel’s facilities or services will be shut down. Of course, and I’m sure I don’t even have to say it, the expenses for the extra days, as well as yesterday and today, will be borne by the hotel. You must know that we regret what’s happening as much as any of you do. It’s small comfort, I know, but the bars in our lounge and nightclub will be open twenty-four hours a day and the drinks are on the house. Rest assured we will do everything possible to make this as inoffensive as possible.
“Now if I may,” Bronstein said “let me just briefly explain what we have set up in the way of medical facilities. The director of activities’ office and adjoining health office will be utilized as examination rooms. Anyone suffering any discomforts should come there for a preliminary examination. The public health nurses will be circulating among you, visiting your rooms when you request it, and they will answer whatever questions you have. Pamphlets are also being distributed at the main desk which will give you more information about the disease, its symptoms and the precautions that must be taken. I’m sure you’ll see that we have taken all the necessary precautions.
“Cholera has a very small fatality rate when treated early and we are not anticipating any serious problems. If we all stay calm, I’m confident we can keep the situation quite under control.”
He backed away from the mike and Ellen moved to it quickly before the audience had time to break out into conversation again.
“I know many of you have personal problems with this quarantine. Magda and other members of my staff will be stationed in my office to help you deal with them. And now if I may get personal for just a moment.” She cleared her throat. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this has happened to you. I would give all that I own for it not to have happened, but it seems tragedy has stationed himself at our gate. For those of you who are interested, Rabbi Gordon has scheduled a prayer service in the synagogue one hour from now. I know it will be difficult,” she said, her voice now nearly cracking, “but as Dr. Bronstein said, we must all try to stay as calm as possible. Thank you and God bless you all.”
She stepped away from the front of the stage. Sid put his arm around her shoulder.
“Very good,” he said, kissing her lightly on the cheek. The crowd began drifting from the club. Their voices were still loud and there were occasional shouts and hysterical arguments, but for the most part, the crowd sounded like an audience emerging from a Broadway show. They moved out single file in an orderly fashion. Most faces wore looks of utter confusion. Older people clung to one another in a new desperation. Mothers held the hands of their small children so tightly that they complained.
Guests who had come in from the golf course, the tennis courts and the pool moved out to the lobby with indecision. Should they simply go back to what they were doing? How could they frolic in the sun after hearing all that? It seemed a little indecent. Everywhere people were questioning their slightest aches and pains. A large group had already gathered around the main desk to get the pamphlets. Many wanted to go outside to see just how tight the security really was around the hotel’s entrances and exits. Others sought the safety of their rooms. There was a rush on all the available phones. Small meetings were being held throughout the premises. Opinions were being voiced and discussed. Statements were announced in headline style.
“They’re not telling us everything.”
“The water must have been bad no matter what they say. Don’t drink it.”
“If they think I’m going to eat anything from their kitchen, they’re crazy.”
“They ain’t keeping me here for six days. I don’t give a damn what they say!”
Ellen and Sid retreated through the stage’s back entrance. The public health nurses waded through the crowd. The lights on the nightclub’s stage shut off as though a performance had just ended. At the back near the bar, some people had already started taking advantage of the free booze. Others looked at them as though they were totally insane.
“We should have told them everything,” Ellen said, as she and Sid followed a corridor that would take them back around to the front of the hotel. “They’re going to find out one way or the other that people have died and then they won’t believe anything we tell them.”
“If you had mentioned death, you would never have been able to hold them together long enough to get anything out. Believe me.”
“Maybe,” Ellen said. Then she stopped walking. “But that’s the last time. I will not tolerate a single additional half-truth around here any more. No matter what the consequences.”
Sid nodded. They walked on.
Manny Goldberg’s face was flushed. When the mass meeting with Ellen ended, he dashed out of the nightclub so quickly that Flo got lost in the crowd behind him. Finally, she caught up with him in the lobby.
“What’s the big rush? You’re running like you’ve got somewhere to go.”
“I can’t stay here,” he murmured. “There’s no way.” He looked about as if to see if there were escape routes hidden behind the chairs and couches.
“You didn’t feel well before, Manny,” she said, touching the palm of her hand to his forehead. “Maybe you should go for the examination.”
He brushed her hand away roughly. “I’m all right. I’m all right.” She shook her head and followed him outside.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“I’ve got to get back to the city,” he whispered. She studied his face. His eyes were wide and excited. His mouth was open, the lips straining at the corners. She stepped back. He looked as though he had gone berserk. For a moment she wondered if he had indeed contracted cholera and this wild and strange reaction was one of the symptoms.
“What’s wrong with an extra few days on the house? We’ll call my brother. You know Mike can be trusted to handle the business. Besides, you heard them. There are policemen all around to make sure we don’t get out.”
“I still gotta go,” he repeated, as if he hadn’t heard a word she said. He brought his hands out from his waist and began slapping the sides of his legs. Carrying on a tantrum like that, dressed in his ill-fitting tee shirt and sloppy bermudas, he looked almost comical.
“Manny, get hold of yourself, for godsakes. Everyone’s looking at you.”
He turned around and glared. “Look,” he said. “Look.” He took her arm brusquely and led her on to the patio. “I lied to you.”
“When? What lie?”
“When I told you Mike was selling out his partnership in the firm to raise money for debts. It wasn’t true. It’s the other way around.”
“I don’t follow you, Manny. What are you trying to tell me?”
“I made a bad investment. I … I gambled on something that didn’t come through.” He began to slap his legs again.
“But …”
“I had to borrow some money fast to cover myself so I put up our piece of the business as collateral.”
“That’s impossible,” she said. “I’d have to sign documents too. Don’t try to bullshit me about this, Manny. My father took great pains to explain things to me. I may not be a genius but—”
“I …” He looked away from her. “I forged your signature.”
“You did what?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“I had to. It looked like a sure thing. There was this prime land. A fast food chain was supposed to buy it. I had inside information.” His face strained with every sentence. He looked as though he would explode at any minute. “I gambled a hundred thousand dollars. If it went through, I coulda made a half million, but …”
“The food chain didn’t buy it,” she said quietly.
“Yeah. That’s about it.”
“So what’s going to happen now?”
“The guys I borrowed from want their money back. Mike said he’ll be able to raise fifty thousand dollars on my share of the company. That’s the amount I need to hold them off. If I don’t get there by Tuesday …”
“So they’ll wait.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “they won’t. They’re not the type who wait.”
“What do you mean they’re not the type who wait. Just who are these people anyway.” She raised her voice. “Tell me, who?”
“What’s the difference who? I borrowed money and I’ve got to be there Tuesday to repay some of it. That’s the only thing that’s important. There are papers I have to sign.” He started muttering to himself. “You don’t understand. You just don’t understand.”
“And Mike,” she said. “What happens to the business if my brother can’t come up with the fifty thousand dollars?” Manny stared at the grass beneath his feet. “You asshole, you dumb …” She started to get hysterical. “My father worked all his life to build that business and now Mr. Bigshot here …”
“Your father, your father.”
She was at him in an instant, like a wild animal. For a few moments his body absorbed all the pain, all the agony, all the tension she’d ever experienced. She swung out indiscriminately, her hands clenched into small fists. She kicked and pounded at him. He tried to fend her off, holding his arms up to serve as an umbrella.
“Stop it, you crazy …”
A small crowd began to gather. Two men stepped forward and tried to hold her back. She cursed and spat at them as well. One man’s arm was badly scratched. Manny retreated, waving his fist at her.
“You do that again and I’ll belt you one in the mouth. I swear it.”
“Bastard,” she screamed. He walked off toward the side of the building. She relaxed and the men let her go.
“Take it easy, lady. We’ve got enough troubles around here as it is.”
“Go fuck yourself,” she said. They moved away from her quickly and the crowd dispersed. She looked in the direction of Manny’s retreat and then went back into the hotel.
Sandi looked out her bedroom window and watched the guests emerging from the main house. She had seen and heard them all being gathered inside and she knew what must have taken place. So this was the “partnership” her mother had designed for her. This was the way she would be treated like an adult—told to stay home, kept away from the hotel. It had all been words, meaningless adult words again. In her mother’s eyes, she was still a little girl.
She certainly didn’t want to stay alone at the farmhouse for the next six days but she didn’t know what else to do. Alison was pretty mad at her so she doubted she would come over. She thought about calling some of her friends from school and seeing if she could visit, but then she remembered she couldn’t get off the grounds. God, she really was a prisoner.
Grant Kaplan, she thought. They had made a vague agreement to meet again, but he probably had forgotten all about it by now. He was so strange—yet thinking about him seemed even more enticing than it was before. In the midst of all the turmoil, all the new restrictions and confinements, the thought of a rendezvous took on added danger and intrigue. She wondered what he was doing and how he had reacted to what had happened.
She went to the phone and tried to call him but all the lines were tied up and they stayed that way for as long as she tried. Finally she gave up in disgust and flopped on the bed. For a while she just lay there, thinking about different guys who she thought were cute. Included in her list was this new man, Bruce Solomon. Wouldn’t it be fun to be over at the office working alongside him? She began to fantasize. Together they would solve the crisis. Afterward they would walk in the moonlight, holding hands, laughing and talking softly. Then he would take her in his arms and kiss her passionately. His lips would travel down her neck. She’d let him run his fingers under her blouse. Maybe they would sit on a bench in the darkness. Maybe …
The ringing phone shattered her fantasy. For a moment she resented it. Then she realized it was contact with the outside and she practically lunged for the receiver. It was Magda.
“Hi, Sandi. Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right. Why shouldn’t I be?” She was a little put out that it wasn’t Grant.
“I just wanted to make sure. Can you make supper yourself or would you like me to come over later and do it for you?”
“I’m not a baby, Magda.”
“No one said you were. I just thought you might want some company. What will you have for dinner?”
“I dunno. I’m not very hungry.”
“You’re feeling all right, aren’t you?” There was obvious concern in her voice. Sandi debated whether or not to plant some doubt in Magda’s mind. She felt just mad enough at her mother to do it, but then she realized they’d send Dr. Bronstein over and she’d have to go through some sort of medical examination. She changed her mind.
“I’m fine. I’m just bored.”
“Be grateful for that,” Magda said. “I’ve got to go back to work. I’ll call you later.”
“Magda, wait.”
“Yes?”
“I want to call someone in the hotel but the damn lines are tied up.”
“I guess all the guests are calling home. You can imagine what’s …”
“Can’t you get me a line? Please?” Her plea was hard to refuse.
“Okay, I’ll try. But remember, don’t invite anyone over to the farmhouse. Your mother …”
“I won’t.”
“Good girl. Hang up and I’ll have them ring you as soon as a line’s free.”
“Thanks, Magda. You’re a peach.”
She sat back and waited. Less then five minutes later, the switchboard operator called. Sandi asked for Grant’s room. When the phone didn’t answer on the fourth ring she was ready to give up. Then he picked up the receiver.
“I’m confined to the farmhouse,” she said. “It’s Sandi.”
“I know. Whadja do, rob the cookie jar?”
“Very funny. Don’t you know what’s going on at the hotel?”
“I didn’t go down to that meeting, if that’s what you mean.”
“Why not?”
“I took a shower instead.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Honest. The faucet’s still drippin’.”
“Grant, people at the hotel got cholera. It’s a bad disease. The hotel’s under quarantine.” He was silent. “The police won’t let anyone in or out for six days.”
“So that’s why they locked that gate,” he said, suddenly making sense of what he had seen earlier. “I told her but she didn’t believe me.”
“Who?”
“Never mind. So you can’t come out of your little farmhouse, huh?”
“I’m not supposed to but I can if I want to.”
“Sure, sure.”
“I mean it. Remember, we have a date at the hideaway at nine o’clock tonight.”
“Okay,” he said, “but I’m warning you, I’m not going to wait more than five minutes.”
“I’ll be there. You’ll see.” She wanted to say good-bye but he had already hung up.
For a few moments she debated the sense of keeping the rendezvous. How could he not have been curious enough to go to that meeting? What was wrong with him? And did she want to be alone with a kid like that? The prospect carried an element of fear with it, but that same fear began to create its own excitement, and the way things were going right now, confined as she was to the house, she sure could use some real excitement.
I’ll be there, she decided. I’ll be there.
“I certainly can use that drink now,” Melinda said. “Why don’t we go to the bar?”
“You go on. I’ll join you later. I have to make some calls.”
“Don’t be long, sweetie. I’ll be waiting for you.” She ran her fingers through his hair.
Nick recombed it as soon as he was out of her sight and made his way to the nearest house phone. Where the hell was Jonathan Lawrence? How come he wasn’t on that stage with Ellen?
Nick had been seething the entire time he was in the Flamingo Room. All this just didn’t happen by itself, obviously. Jonathan must’ve known something about it when they spoke. Why didn’t he warn him? Why hadn’t he leveled with him from the beginning? Nick felt like a fool, and not only because Jonathan had withheld critical information from him. Just yesterday he had reported back to his bosses, even though it wasn’t completely true, that it looked like a fait accompli. By now the news must surely have broken back in the city. His suspicions were verified when the telephone operator informed him there were messages waiting for him.
“You’ve had two calls, Mr. Martin, each asking you to call back immediately, but unfortunately all our lines are tied up at the moment.”
“These are urgent.”
“That’s what everyone is saying, sir.”
“Do you have the times of those calls?”
“One came in an hour ago, Mr. Martin, and the other ten minutes later.” Damn, he thought, while I was in Melinda’s room. I should have left a referring room number. “I might suggest you try the pay phones down by the coffee shop, sir, although I assume there’ll be a wait there, too.”
“Where’s Mr. Lawrence?” he demanded.
“Mr. Lawrence isn’t taking any calls. He is no longer in his office.”
“Can you tell me where I can find him?”
“I really can’t say, sir.”
Odd, he thought. Had Jonathan already left the hotel grounds? Gotten out before Nick had a chance to set the record straight? He hung up and headed down to the coffee shop. When he got there he saw the long lines waiting for the pay phones. It was terribly frustrating. He just hoped his bosses would understand. He’d have to wait and explain it to them later. Right now it was imperative he find Jonathan.
He walked quickly to the carpeted stairway and headed for the mezzanine. Maybe the operator had been giving out the story about Jonathan’s not being around so he wouldn’t be bothered by guests. Well, he’ll see me, Nick thought, whether he wants to or not. When he got to the general manager’s office, he found the secretary packing papers into a carton.
“Deserting the ship?” he asked, smiling.
“Oh, no sir. This is just some papers Mrs. Golden requested I send down to her office. Are you looking for Mr. Lawrence?” She stood up straight.
“Yes, I am. We have some unfinished business to take care of.”
“He’s no longer in this office, I’m afraid.” The secretary looked kind of sad. For a moment Nick thought Jonathan might have been one of the cholera victims Ellen talked about in the nightclub.
“No longer in this office? I’m afraid I don’t understand.” He perched on the end of her desk.
“He … he was fired, I think.” She shook her head. “It’s just incredible. I’m still spinning from all this.”
“Fired? You mean Mrs. Golden fired him?” She nodded. “Has he left the grounds then?”
“I doubt it. No one is allowed to leave the premises. He’s probably locked away in his apartment.”
“I see. His leaving, did it have anything to do with what’s going on in the hotel? I mean this cholera thing?”
The secretary hesitated a moment and then let it all spill out. She was almost grateful for the opportunity to talk to someone. It had been a very trying afternoon.
“I’ll say it did. All the time I worked for Mr. Lawrence, I knew he wasn’t a very decent man, but this was the most despicable … he never even bothered to tell Mrs. Golden about Tony Wong.”
“Tony Wong?”
“The janitor. The first guy who died. All the while he kept …”
“Died? First person?”
“Oh, my God,” she said, bringing her hand to her mouth. “Weren’t the guests told that?”
“That little detail was left out.”
“Please, please don’t tell anyone I told you.”
“It’s all right,” Nick said. “Mum’s the word.” He looked down at the desk, his gaze falling on the phone. “Wait a minute. Lawrence had his own trunk line, didn’t he?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“His own private telephone line. One that doesn’t go through the switchboard.”
“Well, yes.”
“I must use it. It’s urgent.” He headed for Jonathan’s private office.
“But …”
“Now we have a little bargain, don’t we? I’m keeping my mouth shut about the guy who died, and you’re letting me use Jonathan’s private phone.” She nodded slowly and he went in. He wasn’t eager to make the call, but he knew they would have instructions for him. The sooner he got them, the better it would be. At least for him.
“You’ll have to let me off here,” Bruce said as the cab approached the main gate of the Congress.
“That’s fine with me, just fine.” The driver pulled to the side and Bruce got out, paid him, and walked to the security booth. Two state policemen converged, but the hotel guard reminded them who Bruce was.
“What happened to the house car?” the guard asked. Bruce explained that Gary had disappeared.
“I didn’t have time to call anyone about it. I figured I’d tell the Sheriff when I got back.”
“Get in the patrol car,” the cop to his right said. “I’ll drive you around to the front.”
As they cruised down the driveway, Bruce noted that a lot of guests had obviously gone back to their recreations, though not as many as usual. From a distance, the Congress looked as peaceful as any other Catskill resort. There was nothing on the golf course, on the tennis courts, or at the pool that would suggest panic. For a moment, as Bruce looked out the side window, he imagined that none of it had really happened, that it had all been some strange dream. The new and interesting girl he had met the night before was not lying critically ill in a local hospital. Over a thousand people had not been exposed to a horrible disease. His moments of false euphoria were ended with the sight of the Sheriff’s car parked in front of the main entrance.
“Anyone try to sneak out since they were told?” Bruce asked the police officer.
“Not from here. A few did approach the side gate that leads to the parking lot but when they saw our guys patrolling, they headed back quickly enough.”
“After a while some might decide to forget their cars and try it on foot.”
“Lieutenant Fielding and the Sheriff have coordinated a round-the-clock surveillance of all the adjoining highways. They’ll go after any hitchhikers. And all drivers are being warned not to pick up anybody on the road.”
“Sounds tight enough.”
“Except for something like that chauffeur with the house car.”
“Yeah,” Bruce said. “Nothing’s ever 100 percent. Thanks for the lift.” He got out of the car.
Groups of guests were still involved in highly emotional arguments as he entered the lobby. An elderly woman, her head back, her eyes closed, was seated on a couch. She was being fanned and comforted by her daughter and son-in-law. A middle-aged couple walked around with handkerchiefs over their mouths. The main desk was still overwhelmed with guests asking questions. Bruce spotted Lillian Sokofsky coming out of Ellen’s office.
“How’s it going?”
“About as expected,” the nurse said. “The hypochondriacs are coming out of the woodwork. Fortunately for us, there were eight other physicians in the crowd this weekend and they’re lending a hand. We’ve set up a medical area near the athletic director’s office. There were three pretty definite new cases since you left, but I think they’re milder than this morning’s. I put their names up on the board for you.”
“Thanks. I’m going to check in with Sid and then go see Fern Rosen’s roommate. I’ll be back in the office later.”
“How’s Miss Rosen doing?”
“It’s critical right now. The next few hours will tell.”
“Oh, someone named Halloran was looking for you.”
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“No, but he looked worried. Maybe he thinks he has it, too.”
“Maybe,” Bruce said, but for some reason he didn’t think that was the reason. He made a mental note to see him as soon as he could.