Page 82 - Effable Encounters
P. 82
The Formic Solution
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Ann struggled into Phibian Gill’s apartment-cum-tax deductible
office space late Friday morning, arms full of delicacies from the
neighborhood’s best patisseries and boulangeries. Her notebook
protruded from the outer pocket of the purse slung around her
shoulder; Gill deftly extracted it as she blundered, blinded by
shopping bags, toward the kitchen.
“I’ll look at this in a moment, Ann, but you ought to come see this
first.”
Her lengthy reply, laced with unladylike malediction and
imprecation, was muffled by rustling bags, slamming cabinet doors
and rattling plates. Finally she appeared, in high dudgeon, on the
living room carpet.
“What the hell, Phibian: is there a room in this place not dedicated
to insects? You left a spoon smeared with butterscotch fudge in the
sink. I think it’s time to call an exterminator.”
He shook his head. “If I pay for a consultant, it will be a licensed
myrmecologist, not some jerk with a truck full of toxic chemicals. At
any rate, I figured out it was the cherry cola that was killing them off.
It looked okay to them, and it must have tasted okay, but that stuff is
poison. But what’s interesting is how the survivors just dig a sort of
crypt for the bodies, dump them in, and go about their business. Just
like a pauper’s grave.”
Ann made a face.
“Fascinating. You can clean up the sink and the counter in there.
I’ve already gone way beyond my job description in the vain hope of
getting a raise. Do you want me to explain those notes, or are we just
going to celebrate your role as an unintentional mass-murderer?”
Gill flipped through the pages.
“Nice work. All the patients’ names at the hospital—even their
diseases and mortality rate. That might prove enlightening. The
veterans center: let’s see, what does ‘O.T.’ mean? Oh, I get it.
Occupational therapy. Some of these guys could walk without
crutches, right? Do you have their height, weight, and age? Good. I’ll
check out the wheelchair Romeos. Maybe one went AWOL around
the time Margaret Pye disappeared. Hmmm. The homeless shelter for
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