Page 50 of The Shadow Friends

“So how can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m trying to locate someone, and no one seems to know where this person is.”

Here it comes, she thought. She managed to keep a smile on her face as she asked: “Who would this be?”

“Dr. Cornell Stamoran. Are you familiar with him?”

She felt the tension whoosh out of her. This was not about Ingrid after all. This question she could truthfully answer.

“Wasn’t he one of the speakers at the Stone Coast Conference? I saw his name on the conference brochure. Some expert on viruses. Why are you looking for him?”

“For various reasons.” Meaning: I’m not going to tell you. “He checked out of his hotel two days ago.”

“That’s not surprising. The conference is over.”

“We tried calling him, and it goes to voicemail. His secretary said Dr. Stamoran talked about going camping in Maine. Any idea where that could refer to?”

She laughed. “Take a look around you, Agent Minnihan. We’re surrounded by campgrounds. People come here from all over the world to enjoy the outdoors. You should get out there yourself.”

“Hay fever. Plus, I’m not a fan of bugs and snakes.”

“Our snakes aren’t poisonous.”

“Okay. Good to know. So you don’t know which campground.”

“It could explain why he’s not answering his phone. Cell service can be spotty in the woods. Why are you trying to find him?”

“Our team is talking to everyone. He was on my assigned list.”

“And that’s the only reason? He’s just a name on your list?”

He regarded her in silence for a moment, as if taken aback by her query. As if she, a mere small-town cop, had no business delving into a federal investigation. “Dr. Stamoran,” he finally said, “was the first to insist on Ebola precautions. He’s the reason the medical team stayed focused on viral illnesses. To the exclusion of other diagnoses.”

“Is that surprising? He’s a specialist in infectious disease. To him, everything probably looks like a virus.”

“He also recently traveled to Budapest.”

Jo blinked. “So?”

“Ostensibly for vacation.”

“People don’t go to Budapest for vacation?”

“It’s just interesting.”

For reasons he wasn’t telling Jo. This Mr. Special Agent was giving her a small-town cop complex.

“Is he a suspect?” she asked.

“Everyone’s a suspect. Especially the attendees from out of town. Especially those who’ve recently traveled to Eastern Europe.”

“Where they could have picked up a vial of polonium, you mean.”

He said nothing, simply shrugged.

“If the stuff is so radioactive, wouldn’t it poison the killer as well? Why don’t you just look for anyone suffering from radiation poisoning?”

“Polonium-210 particles don’t travel far, only a few centimeters through the air. And they can be contained even by something as thin as paper, so they’re easy to transport. They only become deadly when ingested, which makes it a convenient poison. And the symptoms—nausea, vomiting, diarrhea—can be caused by any number of other medical conditions, which makes it a tricky diagnosis. That’s why it’s a favorite weapon for the Russians. It’s not apparent it’s murder.”