The Killer That Stalked New York Page #2

Spread the word around

to the rest of the boys.

They'll do better to talk now.

Gotcha.

- Find anything?

- Nothing we don't already know.

She's a singer, uses an obvious alias

and smuggles diamonds.

Smart cop. Follow her all the way from Cuba

to find out who she's working with,

then lose her.

They'll probably try to unload the stones.

Maybe that'll give us a lead.

Notify the jewelry trade. Furnish

a description of the diamonds and the girl.

- Good morning, Mr. Krane.

- Hi.

We're running a special today

on cottage cheese.

How about me leaving some with your milk?

- I'm busy.

- Best on the market.

Some other time.

- Morning, sir.

- Morning. Have you got something for me?

- A little package.

- Nothing today.

- Well, make sure, will you?

- I am sure, mister.

- Good morning, Belle.

- Hiya, Charlie. How's your feet today?

My feet are still killing me.

- Went to see a new doctor...

- Yeah, I know, I know. Too bad. Too bad.

- It didn't come yet.

- It will.

- It should have been here by now.

- Mail gets delayed sometimes.

What about stamps?

Did you put enough on the package?

- More than enough.

- Then where is it?

Give it another day.

Maybe tomorrow.

- That's pretty.

- A nice lady gave it to me.

I'll be back tomorrow, Walda, with lollypops.

There's no doubt about it. She had

whooping cough when I admitted her.

Well, the whole thing's

more complicated now.

Yes. But what is it?

I've had two of the best diagnosticians

in the city examine her.

We've run tests on every possible disease

from typhoid to mumps.

Yet the symptoms persist.

The same chronic headache,

backache and recurring fever.

Twenty minutes ago her temperature

was 105. Now it's back to normal.

And we have the added symptom now

in the rash.

One minute at play

and the next minute crying in pain.

Well, Ben, perhaps at tonight's consultation

we'll figure it out.

It may be too late then.

What good is all our modern

lifesaving equipment and all our hospitals?

As far as that child is concerned,

we might just as well be back in the days

when medicine was groping blindly.

Those things were expected then, but now...

For all our knowledge, we're unable to add

up a group of symptoms to mean anything.

Symptoms are warnings.

What are they trying to tell us?

Ben.

Suppose we were in those

medieval days again.

When plagues wiped out whole cities.

Before x-ray, vaccine and anesthesia.

And the symptoms were a headache,

backache, fever and rash.

What would they have meant?

Smallpox.

The symptoms could fit, couldn't they?

But here, in the middle of New York City?

Why, I've never even seen a case.

Well, I have. In Europe, as a child.

Hundreds of them.

Screaming and twisting creatures.

Doomed to be fed to a huge bonfire

that was kept going for weeks.

I should have thought of it before this,

except that New York's the last place

in the world we'd expect smallpox.

We haven't had a case in 10 years.

How could she possibly get it?

She'd have to pick it up

from someone who was already sick.

Well, that's what frightens me even more.

If Walda has smallpox, then

someone else in New York has the disease.

Do you know what that would mean?

Only too well. A killer out of the past,

loose amongst eight million people.

That's fantastic.

This is 1947 and we do have

vaccine against smallpox.

Was Walda ever vaccinated?

No.

Nurse.

Tell the head nurse to make arrangements

for all patients and personnel

- to be vaccinated at once.

- Vaccinated?

- Hurry. This may be smallpox!

- Yes, Doctor.

Get blood and tissue samples from the child.

Do you suppose we have a case

of smallpox here, Doctor?

I hope not. But Cooper's taking no chances.

That's why the vaccinations.

Do we have a case here, Doctor?

We won't know until the Army lab

in Washington finishes testing.

Funny. A hospital

for communicable diseases,

yet we had to send out to make the tests.

As a matter of fact, there are only

two or three labs in the entire country

that have specialized personnel to do it.

It's an immensely complicated procedure.

Keep them crossed.

Smallpox in New York City. Wow!

I'll never forget one smallpox epidemic

in China in 1902.

Spread like a swarm of hornets and as fast.

Killed half a million people

before we knew what was happening.

When I hear of a single case of smallpox,

even in Timbuktu,

I break out in a cold sweat.

But in New York City!

Keep your fingers crossed, General.

- Maybe the test will be negative.

- It's ready, sir.

It's positive. Smallpox.

What's the mortality rate?

One out of three die?

Yeah. And if you live,

you look like this.

Get me the Commissioner of Health,

New York City.

We're up against a disease that spreads

like wildfire. A plague out of the Dark Ages.

Somewhere in the city is the cause,

and every second it takes to find it

means that much more spread.

That's why we've got to work fast, Mr. Skrip.

I want anyone who even remotely

had contact with the child vaccinated.

That means everybody in the building

where she lived, where she went to school,

where her parents worked.

I'm depending on your staff of investigators

to locate these people.

How many vaccination teams

can you throw in, Dr. Penner?

- Ten, so far.

- Investigators?

About 40.

Use every means short of a gun

to get cooperation.

Anyone not vaccinated

is liable to get the disease.

If they still refuse to submit,

tell them what they face.

A thousand ugly sores breaking through

and a fever that burns its victims to death.

You better get started.

Commissioner, what do you want to do

about the papers?

They'll be asking questions.

Better keep it out of the papers

for a while, Mr. James.

- We've got enough for now without panic.

- Yes, sir.

How much do you know

about Walda's family?

They came in from a mining town

a few months ago.

History of poverty and neglected health.

That's why I insisted the girl

be sent into the hospital.

In a sense, I feel responsible

for what's happened to her.

You did your job.

I'm putting you in charge, Dr. Wood.

It's your neighborhood that's been attacked.

Somewhere in Walda's family and

circle of friends is a person with smallpox.

Find that person

and we stop the disease in its tracks.

Good morning.

Well, got something for you today.

Mr. Krane. Mr. Krane,

how about that cheese special?

Look, it comes in a painted glass and when

it's empty, it goes right in your kitchen.

- Talk to my wife about it.

- You can use it as a... Sure.

Not now. Tomorrow.

The fellow who sells the most this month

gets a gold button.

- That you, Matt?

- Yeah.

Did it come?

- No.

- Tomorrow, Matt.

Sure, honey, tomorrow.

Now, don't get up. You just rest there.

- I'm going out for a while.

- I'm not very good company.

No complaints.

Don't forget your medicine.

We'd appreciate your calling us

if anything like that comes along.

- I certainly will, sir.

- Thank you.

- Who's that?

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