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TRANSCRIPT:
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Townsend Residence in St. Louis, Missouri

A teenage girl, Marisol Townsend, wakes up in her upstairs bedroom.

Her mother, Sylvia, is downstairs in the kitchen.  She calls to her daughter:  Get moving, Marisol.  You're going to be late.

Marisol is selecting an outfit to wear when she begins to have trouble breathing.

Sylvia hears a loud thud:  Honey?  What are you doing up there?

When her daughter doesn't answer, she hurries up the stairs, walks into the bedroom and sees Marisol on the floor having a seizure.

Sylvia drops her coffee cup:  Marisol!

She runs to her daughter and grabs hold of her:  Baby!  Come on!

 

Paramedics wheel Marisol into the hospital emergency room.  Sylvia follows closely behind them.

Paramedic to a doctor:  Female, 14 years old.

Doctor:  Seizure?

Paramedic:  Yeah, how did you guess?

Doctor:  I'll take this one.

He begins wheeling the stretcher away.

Sylvia:  Where are we going?

Doctor:  Intensive Care.  Come on.

As they wheel Marisol through a waiting area, Syvlia recognizes a man:  Paul?

Paul:  Sylvia!

Sylvia watches as Marisol is wheeled into a room with several other teenaged girls.

Doctor:  You know these girls?

Sylvia:  They're my daughter's best friends.

 

Dr. Natalie Durant is examining a patient named Barrett.

Barrett:  My landlady, Mrs. Widmann, lives on the top floor of my building.  Nice enough woman, never raised the rent too high. 

Natalie:  Breathe for me.

Barrett:  She's a big gardener.  Spends her days working on her hands and knees.

Natalie:  Breathe again.

Barrett:  I've lived in the building nine years now.  Never really noticed it until recently, but there's this stand of roses.  I just saw her on the way over here, a few minutes ago.  And she said they'll start to bud any day now.  What do you think the chances are, Dr. Durant, that I'll see them bloom?

Natalie:  I think you have a very good chance...I don't understand you, Barrett.  You've been in this clinical trial, under my care for almost two years.  Twice a week, like clockwork, and you still won't call me Natalie.

Barrett:  I'll make you a deal.  If you can get me to spring, I'll start to call you by your first name, Dr. Durant.

Natalie:  It's a deal.  I'll see you in a couple of weeks, okay?

Barrett, as he leaves the room:  Thanks, Doc.

Natalie's pager beeps.  She looks at the number -" 555".

As she hurries down into hall, she encounters Dr. Stephen Connor.

Stephen:  You get the page?

Natalie:  Just got it.

Stephen:  How's the Von Ricklinghausen trial going?

Natalie:  I should make t-shirts saying "Taking part in a clinical trial with us can be hazardous to your mental health".

Stephen:  Yours or theirs?

She walks away.

Stephen follows:  Hey...Barrett again?  Look, Nat, you're making progress on this.  You're doing good work.

Natalie:  Don't tell me I'm doing good work, Stephen.  He's not getting better.

 

Dr. Miles McCabe is studying alone in a library when his pager goes off.  He looks at it, sees the numbers "555", and appears confused.  Looking around, he sees Eva Rossi in an adjoining room, as her pager also goes off.  She, immediately, stands up and heads for the hall.  Miles walks to the door as Stephen and Natalie walk past him.

Miles to Eva:  I just got a page and all it says is "555".

Eva:  The 5 stands for "S", as in triple "S, Syndromic Surveillance System.

Miles:  Oh, yeah...The what?

Eva:  Just follow us.

 

The team is gathered in a meeting room and Frank Powell conducts a slideshow.

Frank:  A new spike.  St. Louis, Missouri.  Four teenaged girls, all went down this morning and were in comas by the time they reached Olson Medical Center.

Eva:  There are a lot of smart people at Olson.  Maybe, we should wait and see how this develops.

Natalie:  These doctors asked for our help.

Stephen:  How much more do we know?

Frank:  Attempted suicide has been ruled out.  And they're all best friends.

Stephen:  Best friends as a commonality?  That's new. 

Natalie:  From how it sounds, if we wait, these girls could die.

Stephen:  We go.

 

They walk to a waiting airplane.

Miles:  Whoa!  Is that ours?

Frank:  Don't get used to it.

Eva:  Helping people comes with perks.

Miles:  How did you manage to score?

Natalie:  The Navy was about to take it out to the Mojave and let it rust for the next 50 years.

Stephen:  Instead, they agreed to keep it in operation for various government agencies, including the NIH.

Frank:  We get to use it once in a blue moon.

Natalie:  Enjoy it.  It might be our last ride for a while.

Eva:  Wait till you see the inside.

 

Inside the plane.

Eva:  I've been in touch with Olson Med.  All four girls complained of the same mild symptoms last night.  This morning, they all seized, lost consciousness and haven't awoken.  They're all classmates at North Adams Middle School, apparently joined at the hip.

Stephen:  What's the situation at the school?

Eva:  Still in session.  Do you want it shut down?

Stephen:  Not yet, but it's an option.

Eva:  The doctors have told the parents that we're en route and will be taking point upon arrival.

As Miles buckles his seat belt, he hears a loud hydraulic whining and appears nervous.

Frank:  No need to worry about the sled, Miles.  She's solid.  Few hundreds of sorties during the Vietnam War without a hitch.

Miles:  All right.  Cool.  Wait...Which war?

 

Olson Medical Center - St. Louis, Missouri

Drs. Stephen and Natalie are examining the girls.

Stephen, as he checks a girl's eyes:  Dilated.  It's no wonder.  Someone gave them drops.

Natalie:  They've stabilized b.p. with a dopamine drip.

Stephen:  It was the right call, but it's just a Band-Aid.  If we don't find the causative agent, these girls are going to sink deeper into coma.  What's the differential diagnosis?

Natalie:  Take your pick.  Brain abcess, subdural hematoma, embolic disease, traumatic hemorrhage, tumor...

Stephen, looking at X-rays:  These pictures look clear to me.

Natalie:  Nothing leapt out in the blood work.  Poor oxygenation in the brain?  Cardiovascular collapse brought on my anaphylactic shock?

Stephen:  Hypoglycemia, encephalitis, meningitis...

Natalie:  Maybe.  Could be exposure to carbon tetrachloride from sniffing cleaning fluids, arsenic, cyanide, psychotropic drugs.

Stephen:  It could be rooted in the liver or the kidneys.

Natalie:  Or none of the above.  Glad you took this case?

Stephen:  Couldn't be happier.

Stephen looks at each patient:  Wow...these girls are rail thin.

Natalie:  Starving themselves until they look like Barbie...I'll check their spinal fluid, glucose level and white blood cell count.

Stephen:  To make this diagnosis, we have to learn more about these girls.  I'll talk to their parents.

Natalie:  You want to know about the private life of a 14-year-old girl, parents are the last people you talk to.

 

Eva and Frank are in the waiting room with the girls' parents.

Eva:  Our presence here, in no way, indicates a lack of confidence in the care at this hospital.  We're here, only, to consult.

One of the parents:  What do you know about our girls?

Frank:  You'll be briefed as soon as possible.

Miles is questioning Sylvia Townsend:  Did your daughter mention feeling, at all, ill?

Sylvia:  Nothing unusual.  She had a headache and cramps.  I thought she was just getting her period.

Miles:  Has Marisol been out of the country recently?

Sylvia:  Please.  I've answered these questions.

Miles looks up and sees Stephen.  He says to Sylvia:  I'll be right back.

Stephen takes the form Miles was filling out, crumples it and throws it into a wastebasket:  They've already taken all this information and it led nowhere.  That's why we're here.  Our answers lie in the margins.  It's as much what they aren't saying, as what they are, okay?

Miles:  Okay.

 

Eva to the parents:  I'd like you to meet Dr. Stephen Conner.  Dr. Connor - the Kendalls, the Sipes, the Whitesides and Sylvia Townsend.

Stephen:  This must be extremely difficult for you.  Please know that we're doing everything in our powers to make your girls well.  But, right now, we need to know everything you can tell us about their lives, including any risky behaviors.

One of the parents:  Such as?

Connor:  Sexual activity, drug use...

The parent:  Are you serious?  They're children, Doctor!

Frank:  I have three daughters, myself.  You all are living my worst nightmare.  But, we're here to help.  The more information we learn about your daughters, the sooner we can find a way to save them.

Parent:  What do you need?

Stephen:  For starters, please allow Mr. Powell access to your homes and your daughters' rooms.

Parent:  Of course.

Stephen:  Thank you.

Stephen to Miles:  Dr. McCabe?

Stephen to parents:  Excuse me.

Stephen to Miles:  Head to their school. I need you to find out where and what these girls eat, drink and smoke.  Everything.

Miles:  Okay...uh...how am I supposed to gain the trust of a 14-year-old girl?

Stephen:  Eva, go with Miles.

 

North Adams Middle School

As Eva and Miles question the students, a girl approaches Eva:  Excuse me...uh...can you just tell me how they are?

Eva:  We're doing everything we can.  What's your name?

Girl:  Ruby.  Ruby Williams.

Eva:  Let me guess - Age:  14.  Height:  Five-six.  Weight:  105.

Ruby:  102, actually.  (She sneezes twice.)

Eva:  Are you okay?

Ruby:  Yeah.  Yeah, it's just allergies...

Eva:  What's wrong, sweetheart?  You can tell me.

Ruby:  They're my best friends.  I was supposed to go get coffee with them after school, but I didn't because I was mad at Tamra 'cause she said she lost my JoJo CD and I didn't believe her.  And, now, her, Marisol, Tina and Ariel are in the hospital and I'm not.  I should be there, too.

Eva:  If you ever want to talk, I'm here for you.  It's my job, really.

Ruby:  Can I talk to him?  (She indicates Miles.)

Eva smiles:  Sure.

 

Miles and Ruby exit the school.

Ruby:  What do we do?  Sometimes, we get taken to high school parties.  But, mostly, we just shop, study, hang out at the mall, look for boys.  The suburbs suck.

Miles:  Yeah, I grew up in the suburbs outside San Francisco.  You ever been?

Ruby:  I've been to Disney World.

Miles:  You guys don't do drugs, do you?

Ruby:  The only drug we do is caffeine.

Miles:  And what about dating?

Ruby:  What about it?

Miles:  Are you seeing anyone?  Are any of the others?

Ruby:  None of us have any boyfriends, if that's what you mean.  The guys here - not cool.

Miles:  Come on, you must be interested in one of the guys, at least.

Ruby:  Maybe...You seem too cool to be a doctor.

Miles:  I'll take that as a compliment.

Ruby notices a girl walking along the sidewalk:  This wasn't an accident.  I know who tried to hurt us.

Miles:  Who do you think?

Ruby:  The Pest.

Miles:  The Pest?  That's kind of harsh.

Ruby:  It's because her Dad's a bug exterminator.  Charlotte Raymond's her name.  She totally hates us.

Miles:  Why?

Ruby:  Come on.  I mean, look at her.

 

At the Townsend residence, Frank inspects Marisol's bedroom.  He takes photographs of her CDs, posters, photos, screensavers, hair care products, etc.

 

At the hospital, Sylvia Townsend watches Natalie administer to Marisol.  As Natalie finishes the medical procedure, she looks at Sylvia, smiles slightly and nods.  Then, she gently caresses Marisol's hair.

 

After running a test, Natalie calls out to Stephen:  Stephen...

Stephen:  What do you got?

Natalie:  You won't believe it.

 

Stephen and Natalie confront the girls' parents in the waiting room.

Stephen:  We believe your daughters have encephalitis.

Sylvia:  I'm sorry.  Exactly, what is encephalitis?

Natalie:  In laymen's terms, it's the inflammation of the brain.  It's usually caused by a virus.

Stephen:  It can be brought on by any number of viruses.  In this case, it's herpes encephalitis.

One of the parents:  Did you just say, herpes?

Another parent:  That's not possible.  Why are you wasting your time on this?  How the hell did our kids get herpes?

Natalie:  Type one herpes causes cold sores and lays dormant in most people.  Type two is sexually transmitted.  When either becomes activated, it can travel to the brain.

A parent:  What type do they have?

Stephen:  They have type two.

Another parent:  There must be some mistake.

Natalie:  We just did a test called a Western Blot, which confirmed it was type two herpes.

Stephen:  Herpes plus coma usually equals encephalitis.

Sylvia:  How confident are you that that's what it is - encephalitis?

Stephen:  The only way to be sure if the virus is in the brain is to do a biopsy.

Another parent:  A brain biopsy?

Natalie:  We would need to take a very small sample.

Stephen:  It's a routine procedure, but we're going to need your permission.

Natalie:  Although it's rare, neural and cognitive damage are always possible when you operate on the brain.

A parent:  Brain damage.

Stephen:  The risk of not performing this is much greater.  Now, I understand your concerns, but the more time we wait...

A parent:  No.  You doctors are not going to open up our daughter's head on some damn hypothesis.  No.  Let's go.

All the parents leave the room, except Sylvia Townsend.

 

Eva sees Charlotte Raymond eating lunch by herself and walks over to join her.

Eva:  This is a nightmare, being back at school.   I like your jacket.  I have one kind of like it.  Did you get it on sale?

Charlotte:  Yeah.

Eva:  How much?

Charlotte:  Like $49, I think.

Eva:  Lucky.  I paid $60.

Charlotte:  It pays to read the paper every day for the sales.

Eva:  I ate lunch by myself every day when I was your age.

Charlotte:  You?  No way.

Eva:  The queen bees at my school ruled the place.

Charlotte:  Believe me, nobody compares to our spoiled princesses.

Eva:  I'd spend all day plotting ways of getting back at them.

Charlotte:  Me, too.  I've thought of a hundred ways.

Eva:  What ways?

Charlotte:  Like ways.  But, it's probably too dangerous.

Eva:  I know they make your life hell, Charlotte.

Charlotte:  Why are you asking me these questions?  And how did you know my name?

Eva:  Because I understand why you might want to get revenge for how mean they are to you.

Charlotte:  I admit it - I hate their guts.  Who cares?  Everybody hates everybody.  But, it doesn't mean I'd want to hurt them.

Charlotte stands up and walks away.

 

Whiteside Residence in St. Louis, Missouri

Frank is in their daughter's bedroom taking photos of her posters, CDs, screensavers, photographs, hair care products, etc.

 

Frank returns to the hospital.

Stephen:  What do you got?

Frank:  I went to all four of their homes, but I knew I was onto something after the second one.

He shows Stephen the digital photos he took in each girl's bedroom.

Frank:  You see that?  Same titles, same order...Exact same music...Same toiletries...Same.

Stephen:  So, what's your point?

Frank:  These girls are living identical lives.  Queen bee does something, the others follow.

Stephen:  That's it?  No drugs, no contraceptives, no journal entries that might point us in the right direction?  All that you have is that they're like-minded consumers?

Frank:  The answer's in their habits, their hobbies, their tastes.

Stephen:  Frank, I need something concrete and I need it now.  These girls' lives are hanging by a thread.

Frank:  I know that.  You're the one that sent me to find the commonalities and I found them.

Stephen:  Check their makeup, their shampoo, their hygiene products.  See if they introduced anything new into their bloodstreams!

Frank:  Look, what's gotten...

Stephen:  Just do your job!  (He walks away.)

 

Natalie and Sylvia Townsend are sitting at a table.

Sylvia:  Doing what you do, you must see such cruel suffering.  How can you stand it?

Natalie sighs:  It's hard.  Knowing that I did everything I could in some places just doesn't mean much.

Sylvia:  I lost my husband a lot like this.

Natalie:  In what way?

Syvlia:  Without any warning.  We went to bed one night...we kissed good night...and he didn't wake up.  I can still see the silhouette of his face in the dark...I've invested all of myself in Marisol, made my whole world about her.  I've done everything I can to get close to her.  I've listened to the same music which, believe me, wasn't easy.  I bought some of the same clothes.  I even slogged my way through pre-algebra right along with her.  I thought the closer I got, the more I could protect her.

Natalie:  Sylvia...I've seen some people who stepped off a curb or rounded a corner or did nothing at all, and found death waiting for them.  I feel so helpless when someone's taken like that.  But, this is different.  We can help them, but we need all the information to do so.

Sylvia:  Okay.  I trust you.  I'll consent to the biopsy.

Natalie:  Thank you.

 

Natalie begins preparing Marisol for the brain biopsy.  Suddenly, one of the monitors hooked up to another girl begins beeping rapidly. 

Nurse:  She's coding.  Get the crash cart.

Natalie rushes over:  She's in V-fib.  One cc of epinephrine and get me the paddles.

A nurse hands her the paddles and she applies them:  Clear.

Nurse:  Clear.

Stephen runs into the room:  What happened?

Natalie:  We're losing her.

Stephen:  Give me the paddles.  Clear.

Nurse:  Clear.

Natalie:  No rhythm.

Connor:  One more time.  Everybody get ready.  Clear.

The camera pulls away as he continues to apply the paddles.

 

Stephen and Natalie enter the waiting room and tell Tamra's parents that their daughter is dead.

Natalie walks over to Sylvia Townsend:  We won't need to perform the biopsy on Marisol.  Tamra's autopsy will tell us what we need to know.

 

Natalie is performing the test on Tamra's brain tissue.

Stephen:  Herpes encephalitis...Is it glowing green?

Natalie:  No.  Nothing.

Stephen:  Damn it!  What are we missing?  These girls have herpes, but the virus isn't in the brain.  If their comas aren't caused by herpes encephalitis, then what is it?  Their parents are so in the dark about their sexual activties, what else are they in the dark about?

Natalie:  If you're thinking drugs, tox screen already came back negative.  I expanded it to include gas huffing, nitrous - all the way down the line.

Eva and Miles enter the room.

Miles:  What about chemicals?

Stephen:  What kind?

Miles:  Poison.  We learned about a girl named Charlotte Raymond, who has a lifelong grudge against the victims.

Natalie:  It's high school.  I mean, you're nothing unless somebody has a grudge against you.

Miles:  Actually, it's middle school and this particular girl's father is the owner and proprieter of Don Raymond Pest Control.

Stephen:  Wait a minute.  Rat poison and some pesticides could manifest this way.

Natalie:  I'll check for phosphates in the blood.

Eva:  I spoke to the girl.  She has a healthy amont of bitterness built up, but I doubt she did it.

Stephen:  Are you sure?

Eva:  I can read people better than anyone.  She didn't do it.

Stephen:  Maybe her father got tired of watching his little girl get tormented on a daily basis.  You know what?  I'm going to have a little chat with Mr. Raymond.

 

Miles and Eva are in the Emergency Room of the hospital. 

Miles:  I just don't think we can rule her out.

Paramedics bring a girl in on a stretcher.

E.R. Doctor:  We're clear for Trauma 3.  Let's go.

As they wheel the girl by Miles, he recognizes her.

Miles:  Ruby?  What happened?

A paramedic:  She collapsed outside her school.

 

Stephen and Frank visit Don Raymond's business.

Stephen:  Well, sir, we need a list of the chemicals that you have on site and your suppliers.

Raymond:  There's a truckers' strike going on.  I take whatever supplies I get my hands on.  This a new kind of inspection?

Stephen:  A few of your daughter's classmates are sick.  We believe they may have been poisoned by a pesticide.

Raymond:  Charlotte's friends are sick?  Sorry to hear that.  So, how did I get dragged into this?  What do you want my chemicals for?

Stephen:  Well, from what I understand, Charlotte was seriously at odds with the girls who are sick.

Raymond:  Spoiled princesses.  They'll turn out fine, their kind always do.

Frank:  What was that you called them?

Raymond:  Spoiled.  Princesses.  And they are.  If you're suggesting that Charlotte could hurt them, that that thought could ever even form in her mind...You know, I'm inclined not to give you any information, at all.

Frank:  Mr. Raymond, if I were in your shoes, I'd want to protect my daughter, as well.  I'd want to speak with her, hear her side of the story and then decide on a course of action.  But, we can't wait.

Stephen:  Look, right now, back at that hospital, parents are pleading with God not to take their children.  If the roles were reversed, I'd be pleading with them to help you and I wouldn't leave until they did.  Will you help us?

Mr. Raymond hands him the lists.

Stephen:  Thank you.

 

Miles is attending to Ruby Williams.

Ruby:  Dr. McCabe, what's the matter with us?

Miles:  Well, I don't know what's going on with those other girls, but I am certain you don't have it, Ruby.

Ruby:  Oh...

Miles:  You sound disappointed.

Ruby sneezes.

Miles:  Well, your test results, in no way, fit their pattern....Tell me about your allergies.

Ruby:  They're just...kinda new.  They just keep getting worse and worse.

Miles:  What about your weight?  You're almost twenty pounds underweight for your age.

Ruby laughs weakly:  Size zero.

Miles:  Yeah...Ruby, are you making yourself sick?  Bulimia, laxatives...

Ruby:  No.  I eat like a normal person.  Ask anyone.

 

Natalie is running some tests in another room.  Miles enters.

Miles:  What are you testing?

Natalie:  Phosphates there, anti-coagulants here.  I'm measuring the time it takes for the blood to clot.  Compounds like rat poison slow the process, which is one way that they kill.

Miles:  The last to arrive, Ruby - something different's going on with her.  The only symptoms she's exhibited are acute allergies.

Natalie checks the results of her tests:  It's not rat poison.  How's Ruby's health, otherwise?

Miles:  Lousy.  She's flirting with anorexia, but I checked the blood nutrients and she eats normally.

Natalie:  Are the allergies new?

Miles:  Yeah, actually, they are new.

Natalie:  Her body's producing histamine because it's fighting a foreign presence.  Give her an ultrasound.

 

Stephen and Frank hurry into the room.

Stephen hands Natalie the notebook Don Raymond gave him:  This is the list of pesticides Don Raymond uses.  If Charlotte used any of those, we have to figure out what it is and start treatment.

Eva walks in:  Hold up on that.  Charlotte didn't use any of them.  I just got a call.  Eleven more cases, same symptoms.  In Kirkwood, a few counties over.

Connor:  Do they fit the pattern?

Eva:  Only three of them are teenagers.  All the others are older...and they're all strangers.

Stephen:  We've lost our commonality.  We've got nothing.

 

Mount Lennox Hospital - Kirkwood, Missouri

In Kirkwood, Eva is talking on her cell phone to Stephen, as he and Frank walk down a hall in St. Louis.

Eva:  I got two dead, nine fading fast.  Same symptoms, all intubated, comatose.

Stephen:  Any links between them?

Eva:  Hardcore medicine - really not my thing.

Stephen:  Anything.

Eva:  Well, it's probably nothing, but...they all weigh within five pounds of each other.  Around 160.

Stephen:  Their only commonality in both places is their weight.  On your end, they're heavy.  Here, they're thin.

Frank:  What do people with the same weight have in common?

Stephen:  Eva, recheck their charts.  See if they have the same measurements.

Eva:  Are you serious?

Stephen:  Just do it.

Frank:  What's in your head?

Stephen to Frank:  Look, we may have been looking in the wrong direction.  What if the disease wasn't ingested or inhaled?  What if it was in their clothing?

Eva:  Connor.

Stephen to Eva:  Yeah.

Eva:  These charts are hard to read.  The only measurement I can see is waist size.

Stephen:  And?

Eva:  They all have a 33-inch waist.

Stephen:  Good work, Eva.  Our girls were in their pajamas when they were admitted.  I need you to find the clothing yours were admitted in.

 

Miles wheels a machine into Ruby's room.

Ruby:  What's that for?

Miles:  This is an ultrasound.  X-ray movie to see inside of you.

Ruby:  I don't want the test.  I don't need the test.

Miles:  Well, believe it or not, I actually went to med school and you do need this.

Ruby:  I'm fine.  I just fainted or something.  I want to go home, now.

Miles:  Ruby, you want to tell me something?

Ruby turns her head away.

Miles moves the transducer probe across her stomach:  Okay, this is going to be a little cold.

He looks at the monitor:  Ruby...look at the monitor.  How recent is this weight loss?

Ruby:  I don't know.

Miles:  Ruby, how did you lose the weight?  Did someone sell you some kind of a pill?

Ruby:  Maybe...

Miles:  Did the other girls take it, as well?

Ruby:  No, just me.  I found it on the Internet.

Miles:  Do you know what was inside it?

Ruby:  The package said it was a "natural antagonist".

Miles:  That's a slick way of saying "parasitic worm".

Ruby:  All I know is that it worked.  I lost 25 pounds.  Marisol and those girls finally talked to me.

Miles shakes his head.

Ruby:  Before then, Charlotte was my best friend.  I can't go back to that.

Miles:  Ruby, look at the screen.

Ruby:  No way.  Forget it. 

Miles:  Look at it.

Ruby:  You're a real jerk, you know that?

Miles:  I'm going to give you five seconds to look towards me.  Five...four...three...two...

Ruby looks at the screen, sees the worm inside of her and becomes very upset:  Get it out.  Get it out of me!  Get it out of me!

Miles:  Nurse, get me a dose of Praziquantel.

Nurse:  Right away, Doctor.

Ruby:  What is that?

Miles:  It's a pill.  It's going to kill the worm and expel it from your body.

Ruby:  If I take this medicine, I will gain all the weight back.

Miles:  Yeah.

The nurse hands Miles the pill and a glass of water:  Here you go.

Miles:  Ruby, if you don't take it, what's taking over your body will kill you.  You know... for the record, I don't get that whole waif look.

Ruby:  Really?

Miles:  Yeah.

Ruby swallows the pill.

Miles smiles:  Good.

 

At the hospital in Kirkwood, Eva is sorting through the victims' clothes and talking to Stephen on her cell phone.

Eva:  Okay, let's see how America shops.  I got two skirts, three sweats, one kinky pair of leather pants...and a pair of jeans.

Stephen:  Of the skirts, sweats or slacks - are any of them the same label?

Eva:  Uh...no.  No, they're all different.

Stephen:  Wait a sec.  Two skirts, three sweats, a pair of leather pants, three slacks and a pair of jeans.  That's only ten.  You said there were eleven down.

Eva looks around and sees another set of clothing:  Oh, got it.  Another pair of jeans.  Let's see.  Same style, same waist size.  Brand is Wattage Dungarees.

 

Stephen goes to the waiting room to question the girls' parents:  Excuse me.  Do any of your girls wear Wattage Dungarees?

Sylvia:  Marisol does.  They're her favorite.

Another parent:  My daughter wears them, too.

Stephen:  Where do they get them?

Sylvia:  A placed called Essentials.

 

At Essentials, Stephen is questioning the store owner:  Your last shipment of Wattage Dungarees, when did they come in?

Owner:  Monday morning.  I was sold out by closing.

Stephen:  Anything unusual about them?  Stains, smells, did they look irregular in any way?

Owner:  Not that I could see.

Stephen:  How many size zeros did you get in?

Owner:  One box, 30 pairs.  I was expecting more product, but there's a statewide trucking strike.

Stephen:  Then, how did you get your deliveries?

Owner:  We managed to reserve some space with a long-haul company out of Springfield.  It wasn't cheap.  Highest bidder got the space.  It didn't matter what the product was.

Stephen:  Where does your delivery come in?

Owner:  Back alley.

 

In the alley, they see a man unloading a truck.

Stephen:  Couldn't have happened on the manufacturing end.  Popular as they are, there would be thousands down all over the the country.  Must have been sometime between assembly and retail.

Frank:  In transit.

As the man finishes unloading the truck and leaves, Connor climbs up into the rear of it:  What if Don Raymond received his pesticide delivery from the same shipment as the jeans?  What if the two shared the same cargo bay?  There must have been a spill...

He visualizes the truck loaded with merchandise, sees a canister break loose from the wall and spray fluid over the boxes of jeans.

Frank:  With a spill, every product on the truck would be contaminated.

Stephen:  You're right.  The canisters were tied down.  They were secure.  Nothing tipped over.  Nothing burst.  Must have been a leak.  A very slow leak...

He visualizes the merchanidise secured in the truck and a small leak from one of the canisters, flowing onto the boxes.

Stephen:  That's it.  The leak only came into contact with the two bottom boxes.  The size zero headed to St. Louis, the size 14 bound for Kirkwood.  The jeans in the top of the boxes were never affected in St. Louis, but by the time they got to Kirkwood, which is further down the delivery route, the boxes had more time to absorb the pesticide.  That's why there are more victims in Kirkwood.

Frank:  If so many pair of jeans were sold, why did so few get sick?

Stephen jumps down out of the truck:  Maybe, they never wore them or they washed them before they put them on, which diluted the pesticide.

 

Frank points toward a trash container, where there are a lot of dead bugs on the ground:  Hey, look at this.

He and Stephen search through the trash and find the empty box of jeans.  The bottom of the box is stained.

Stephen calls Natalie:  We found the source.  Start both clusters on atropine.  We're on our way.

 

Natalie walks into the waiting room:  Sylvia...can I talk to you?

Sylvia stands up and follows her out of the room.

Natalie:  You asked how I could stand the suffering?  This is how.

She points to Marisol, who is awake and smiling.  Sylvia hurries over to the bed and mother and daughter embrace.

 

On the airplane, headed back to Virginia.

Frank and Miles are sitting at a table.  Frank is shuffling a deck of cards:  Let's say we make this more interesting.  Put a little something on the line.

Miles:  I'm in.  What have you got in mind?

Frank:  I don't know.  Let's - uh - try a steak dinner.

Miles:  Oh, no can do.  I'm a vegetarian.

Frank:  Are you serious?

Miles:  Yeah.

Frank:  I always wanted to know a vegetarian, to ask how you do it - not eating meat.

Miles:  It's easy when meat is murder.

Frank:  No, meat is delicious.

 

Stephen walks up to them and says to Frank:  Can I have a word?

Miles:  You know, I got to go - uh - look at...something.

He stands up and leaves the area.

Stephen sits down across from Frank and appears very uncomfortable.

Frank:  I ever tell you they use Guinness beer to treat serious stomach ailments in Middle Asia and Thailand?  Yep.  Pharmacies got Guinness on the shelves right next to penicillin.  Beer as medicine.  I could get used to that. 

Stephen:  I shouldn't have jumped down your throat earlier.  I should have known better.  Trusted your judgment.

Frank:  You're damn straight...Now, forget it...You all right?

Stephen:  Yeah, I'm fine.

Frank:  Yeah, you sound it.

Stephen:  When's your wedding anniversary?

Frank:  May 6.  Eleven years.

Stephen:  What's the traditional gift for eleventh anniversaries?

Frank:  A convertible.

They both laugh.

Frank:  Hey...talk to me.  What's going on?

Stephen:  Today's my anniversary with Lisa.

Eva walks up:  You two should be ashamed of yourselves.  Miles isn't making much more than minimum wage and you are about to take advantage of that young man.

Frank:  How is that your business?

Eva sits down at the table:  Because I'm going to take his money.  Deal me in.

Frank:  Man, it's no fair playing with you.

Eva:  I know.  Even I can't tell when I'm bluffing.

Frank calls out:  Natalie!  I'm dealing you in.

Miles and Natalie join them at the table, as Frank deals out the cards.

Stephen:  Any stakes on this baby?

Frank:  I say paid vacation, margaritas, sand...

 

THE END