CHAPTER 4
"You need to call that security guard and tell him we're moving. Don't use the radio – It'll blast all over the hospital."
Cuddy called the number the guard had given her and told him she and House were moving upstairs. He protested. "Look, the man is sick, possibly dying. We need to figure out which," she explained. "There's one person here who can do that and he needs his team. We're going," she said sternly and hung up. They opened the door to Cuddy's office and everyone was silent. Nurses were in rooms watching over patients or sitting behind the station counter. Cops were everywhere by now.
Suddenly they heard over Cuddy's radio, and all the other radios in the vicinity, "Doctors Cuddy and House are changing locations. They are moving to the 4th floor. Repeat, Cuddy and House moving to the 4th floor."
House looked at Cuddy and rolled his eyes. "Stealthy," he muttered. "Let's take the stairs." The staff eyed them as they crossed through the clinic and lobby and started climbing the stairs. House led the way, holding Cuddy's hand, and they both looked everywhere at once, looking for anything unusual amongst everything that was unusual. They climbed the main open flight of stairs, then had to go into the closed stairwell. Every step echoed off the walls of the empty stairwell. Cuddy walked on her tiptoes to keep her stilettos from clicking so noisily. When they reached the 4th floor, House opened the heavy steel door as best he could and stuck his head out. He looked up and down both hallways, signaled to the cops, then pulled Cuddy through. They went immediately to the team room, where Foreman and Taub were waiting in wide-eyed silence with the blinds closed. They both jumped when House tapped on the glass. Taub crept to the glass and parted the blinds ever so slightly, only to see House making a crazy scary face at him. He startled, then sighed and unlocked the door. Cuddy and House slunk in quickly. "Where's Chase?" House asked. Foreman and Taub both shrugged.
"He was running labs," Taub told him. "We assume he's still down there, but when we called him there's no answer."
"Well, let's assume he's a goner," House said. Cuddy gave him a nasty look. "I'm kidding!" House said. "Everyone's so stressed out around here! I gotta get Wilson," House said, going through his office to the balcony. He used his key to unlock Wilson's door and heard Wilson start hyperventilating under his desk. "Are you scared or are you having sex under there?" House asked.
"Jesus, House, you almost scared me to death!" Wilson whisper-yelled.
"You thought the killer stole me keys?" House asked.
"I'm not exactly thinking clearly right now!" Wilson responded.
"Well, start to," House ordered. "We have to figure out what this guy has and I need your help. Come on," he gestured toward the door with his head.
"I feel safer in here," Wilson protested. "Your office is all glass."
"Wilson, the blinds are closed, the doors are locked, and there are three other full-grown men in there with you. I know the last time you were in that situation you needed therapy, but it'll be different this time. Move your ass!" he said. Wilson stood up, but stayed still. "Do you want me to start calling, 'Hey, killer, killer, killer!' out your office door? Come on!" Wilson followed House across the balcony to his office and joined the others.
"Okay, doctors," House said. "This guy has poisoned himself on purpose. It was all part of his plan. Now we need to know with what so we know if he is going to get away with this or if he is dying in a hospital air duct somewhere." He got a marker and wrote on the white board: vomiting, hair loss, kidney failure. "What else do we know?" he asked Foreman and Taub.
"He's is respiratory distress," Foreman said. "The MRI shows fluid building up in his lungs." House added pulmonary edema to the list.
"He also was having trouble making a fist for a blood draw," Foreman said. "He complained that his hands hurt." House added peripheral neuropathy to the list.
"He's creepy," Taub muttered.
"Hmmm… creepiness," House repeated. "By God, it's lupus!"
"I wasn't suggesting it was a symptom," Taub explained. I just was commenting. That guy really creeped me out."
"What's creepy, exactly, besides the whole killing several families thing?" House probed.
"I mean, he's a creep! He talks like a creep, he says creepy things –"Taub started explaining.
"Does he look creepy?" House asked.
"Yeah! He's losing hair everywhere – even his eyelashes. And his fingernails are all broken off. And he smells like garlic. Reminds me of vampires," Taub commented.
"Vampires are repelled by garlic," Cuddy said.
"That's why she's the Dean of Medicine," House bragged facetiously.
"Maybe it isn't poison," Wilson said, looking through the patient's chart.
"We could hear you a lot better if you stopped whispering came out of the corner," House scolded. Wilson ignored him.
"It says he's been a vegetarian for the last year. That combined with limited variety in prison food could lead to a deficiency," Wilson explained. Taub and Foreman started running through vitamins and minerals and comparing them to the symptoms, but none were matching. House was thinking.
"What kind of serial killer becomes a vegetarian?" he asked. "And during the last year of his life?"
"He ate fish," Cuddy offered. "His last meal request was three different kinds of fish. It was weird."
"Creepy," Taub said. House rolled his eyes.
"Which fish?" House asked. Cuddy looked over Taub's shoulder at the chart. "Tuna, salmon, and cod." It was silent for a moment.
"It isn't a deficiency," House said. "It's toxicity. He's overdosed on selenium," he explained. "Those fish are all packed with selenium. He's probably been doing it for months on other foods, and that last meal, with all that fish, pushed it over the edge."
"We can't confirm without testing his blood or urine," Taub pointed out.
"It all fits," House said. "Even the garlic you smelled is excess selenium in his breath."
"But we still don't know how far it has progressed," Cuddy pointed out.
"Right," House said. "That's why I need to talk to him." They all looked at him like he has lost his mind.
