Chapter Four

Tony Caisey ran his finger along the groove in the table and glanced again at the clock. He didn't know why he was here and his initial panic at being bundled off the street and into a car had turned to bewildered anxiety as he tried to work out exactly what he had done to warrant his incarceration. Maybe he had seen something? Tony thought back to the morning's events and tried to remember anything that had seemed out of the ordinary but there was nothing. It had been a morning like any other. He had got up at five am, fed his cat, left his wife's tea on the bedside table and made his way to work. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened there either. He'd seen the same familiar faces and the same number of unfamiliar ones. Tony thought hard but he could not for the life of him imagine why selling coffee to DC workers would result in him being urgently, but he had to admit, politely, bundled into a car and escorted to the White House.

He worked out that he had been sitting here for an hour and smiled despite the situation when he realised that he could tell his wife that watching all those lame old cop shows had paid off because he was going to ask for a lawyer or tell them that they couldn't hold him any longer without charging him with something like that. They probably could though, Tony thought grimly as he returned to running his finger along the line in the wooden desk. The sound of voices outside the door halted Tony's action and he turned towards it hoping for a simple explanation or at the very least, a cup of coffee.

The man who entered was clearly having as bad a day as Tony was. He apologised for keeping him waiting before sitting down on the other side of the desk. "Mr…" Ron sifted through his notes, "Caisey."

"Tony, and look, I really need to contact my wife. I'm normally home by now and she'll be worried."

"We've already done that and again I'm sorry to have kept you waiting like this." Ron looked through his notes again and then placed the pad down on the desk. "Mr Caisey, I'll get straight to the point. This morning a number of people were taken ill both here, on the Hill and at other workplaces. Four have died and seven more are in hospital. Since then, similar incidents have been reported in Chicago, Philadelphia and New York. The victims were poisoned with strychnine. I don't know about the others, but we think that all of the victims in DC were exposed to strychnine in coffee which they bought on their way to work."

Ron's words were met with silence. Tony's face had paled but apart from that he showed little reaction to what he had been told. Eventually he cleared his throat and whispered, "But I've never been to Philadelphia."

Ron shook his head "When we brought you in we believed we were dealing with an isolated incident but now we know that whether the strychnine being added was accidental or intentional, it must have been added before it left the factory or during transit." Tony didn't seem to have gained any colour so Ron added, "You're not a suspect, Tony. We need your help."

"Of course, of course." Tony nodded eagerly, the faces of his regular customers already swimming in front of him.

"I need you to think about the coffee you were serving this morning and where you bought it from. Was it the usual brand you sell? Was there anything odd about the packaging? Did you notice anything unusual around your stall this morning or recent mornings? Have you had any strange enquiries about the coffee you sell recently or has anyone offered to supply you with coffee?"

Tony wiped a hand over his face and closed his eyes. "Four people! I can't believe it. I didn't know, you have to believe I didn't know."

"Tony, please, I know this is a difficult but I really need you to focus on the questions I've asked and help us to find whoever is responsible." Ron waited until Tony seemed more collected. "I'm going to send another two agents to talk to you. Just think about this morning and the past few days and tell them anything that seemed odd to you no matter how trivial you think it is."

"I've been selling coffee here for seven years. Some of my customers have been buying it from me for that long. Are you allowed to say who-"

"We're not releasing the names of those who have died until the families have been informed."

"Yeah, of course, sorry, it's just that I've got to know a number of people over the years and I'd hate to, well, you know, I just…"

"Tony, if you help the agents, tell them everything you can, you'll be doing more than enough to help and maybe helping to stop it happening again." Ron left the room and left Tony to try to pull himself together before the agents arrived to interview him.

While he waited, Tony tried to remember who had bought coffee from him that morning and he shivered as he realised that four of them were now dead. He leant back in the chair and closed his eyes but the faces of possible victims wouldn't leave him.

"Black, no wait, white. No, actually I think I'll have black."

"Is that it, Sam? Can I pour now or do you want to carry on?"

"Sam tucked his newspaper under his arm and reached for his wallet. "Coffee, which makes the politician wise, and see through all things with his half-shut eyes. Alexander Pope The Rape of the Lock."

"You owe me $1.75 and $1.90 from yesterday. Tony Caisey The Death of a Coffee Salesman."

"See, this is why I keep coming here, Tony, where else would I get coffee and a witticism like that every morning?" Sam lifted the lid and blew gently into the cup.

"Beats me, Sam. So, what's going on in the big house today then?" Tony smiled and leant on the corner of his stand.

"Well, Tony, I've gotta tell ya," Sam paused to take a welcome sip from the steaming cup, "there's things going on inside that building today that would make your coffee curdle." Sam nodded towards the White House and gestured at Tony to come closer. "Remember that secret missile test I was telling you about?"

"Sure I remember. They're testing today?" At Sam's nod, Tony shook his head. "So chicken feed and liquorice root really can fuel a rocket."

"NASA is over the moon," Sam placed the money he owed Tony on the counter, "so to speak."

Tony smiled and handed Sam a bagel. "It's on the house," he explained. "Have a good day, Sam." Sam held the bagel up and smiled before turning and setting off for work.

Toby looked up briefly as the door to the ICU swung open then went back to his study of the notes Ginger had sent over. CJ and Josh had both gone back to the White House and Toby had remained outside the ICU ever since. He had completed a couple of statements and faxed them over to CJ but was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate. He had been told that Sam needed to rest and when he had gone back the doctors were with him and the curtains pulled around the bed so Toby had returned to the row of plastic chairs outside.

He glanced at his watch and rubbed tiredly at his forehead. From where he sat he had a view down the corridor and at the end of it he could see Dr Keel getting out of the elevator. As he slowly walked towards him, Toby started to put his papers back into a folder. Dr Keel nodded at Toby as he neared him but a sudden beeping noise made him stop and rummage in his pocket. He glanced at his pager and then started once more for the ICU, this time at a faster pace. "Wait here," he told Toby as he swept past him. Toby waited, not because he had been asked to but because for a few moments he was unable to move. He knew it was Sam that that he had been paged for, he couldn't explain how he knew but he did and the knowledge kept him rooted to the spot until he could summon the courage to follow Dr Keel into the unit.

It wasn't so much the words but the tone that made Toby's stomach turn. Toby knew Sam was scared, he had seen it in his office and whilst sitting by his bedside but it was something he couldn't get used to and he closed his eyes to the sight of Sam crying out and being held by two orderlies and a nurse.

"Toby, stop them!"

For the second time in as many minutes, Toby forced his uncooperative legs to move. "What's wrong?" he asked Sam and then looked up at the doctor and repeated the question.

"He's hallucinating, the lack of oxygen. Sam, stop it, it's okay." He reached out and tried to place the oxygen mask back over Sam's face. "How long?" he asked looking up at the nurse.

"Four minutes, BP started dropping, blood oxygen level dropping too." She moved to place the mask back over Sam's face but he pushed her hand away.

"Stop…they're…stop them, Toby, they're taking it…"

Sam was looking at the doctor as he spoke and Toby didn't think that he even knew he was there but he answered as if Sam was sitting in his office. "What are they taking, Sam?"

"My air…taking my air…can't breathe."

Before Toby could reply, Dr Keel answered for him. "No one's taking your air, Sam. We're trying to give you more air to help you breathe more easily. You need to calm down now."

The doctor's calm, authoritative voice did little to pacify Sam though and he flung his arm out uselessly in an attempt to stop his attackers.

Toby couldn't get to Sam. There were too many people around the bed and all he could do was stand at the end of it and watch helplessly as Sam struggled with a strength that surprised him. "Dad…tell them…stop…please stop…can't…"

Toby gripped the bedrail as the pillows were pulled from under Sam's head. Sam's strength had finally deserted him and his verbal protests were waning too.

"Nice and easy, Sam, that's it." Doctor Keel monitored Sam's reaction to the sedative he had administered and waited. "Page him again, tell him he's not needed," he told the nurse and Toby realised he had missed most of the frantic conversation that had taken place over Sam's bed. "Keep it to the mask for now. I don't want to intubate him again unless it's absolutely necessary." The nurse nodded and set about untangling the wires and tubes that lay coiled around Sam.

Doctor Keel placed a hand on Toby's shoulder and nodded towards the door.

"Sure, yeah, just ah, just let me unpeel my hands from the bedrail," Toby said.

Keel smiled in sympathy. Sam's behaviour had unnerved him so he could only imagine what it had done to someone who wasn't used to seeing such things.

"I know it's hard to see someone like that. He's sedated now and more importantly his breathing has improved." Doctor Keel sat down on the chair outside that Toby had vacated earlier and gestured for Toby to sit down too. "He's not improving as rapidly as I'd hoped. We're doing everything we can." Keel prided himself on his ability to gauge the reaction of people to news about their loved one's condition. He was as certain that he could be candid with Toby as he was that telling Josh the same thing would result in an apoplectic fit. "If he makes it through the night he stands a good chance."

"Thank you, I appreciate you being straight with me." Toby went back to Sam's room, determined to stay the night and do all he could to make sure Sam did the same.

Leo had spent thirty minutes with Ron, ten with CJ, fifteen with the FBI and twenty with the President. He had finally managed to find a few spare moments and was planning on going to find Josh when Bartlet walked into his office and sat down by his desk.

"Any word?"

"Same as last time, Toby phoned a little while ago and said they had him sedated again and that he hadn't had any more convulsions, so that's something."

"And Ron isn't any further with finding out who did this?"

"No." Leo took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. "Jesus, Jed, you should have seen him. I was only there when they loaded him into the ambulance but that was enough. Josh's face was...and Toby's…" Leo shook his head giving up on his attempt to explain what it had been like.

Bartlet nodded nonetheless. "How's Josh?"

Leo pulled a face and again rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "He's asleep on Toby's sofa. I was just going to go see him."

At the words 'go see him' Bartlet sat forward and opened his mouth to speak. Years of friendship had given Leo an uncanny ability to follow his friend's thought processes and he spoke up before Bartlet could talk. "You're not going to see Sam. There is no way Ron will agree to it and no way in hell I will countenance it."

"There's a side to you that comes to the fore at times like this, Leo, and it's not a very pretty side."

"You're not going. I doubt very much if Ron will let you leave this building until he's a hundred percent sure of what's going on anyway," Leo said as he returned to his desk.

"You know, the hospital that Sam is in is called the George Washington. They name hospitals after Presidents. They do that because we're pretty important people. Wait a few years and you'll be able to go to the Jed Bartlet library because they do that as well. While you're there I suggest you take a moment to browse the section with books about loyalty and friendship."

"Well, okay, I'll do that, sir and I'll keep my eye out for you in the stupid section."

Jed allowed a small smile at that and the banter that had allowed both men to lift themselves above the situation and feel in control of it. "Okay, okay, I'll wait." He turned to go back to his office but paused in the doorway. "Get Josh in here would you?"

On waking, it took Josh a few seconds to remember why he was lying on Toby's sofa and when he did he sat upright and shook his head at the dizziness that followed. His first logical thought was that he should phone Toby and he groped for his cell phone. Its ringing startled him and on hearing Toby's voice, Josh was still too muddled by sleep to work out how Toby was speaking when he hadn't even dialled the number yet. "Toby, how did you, is that you?"

Toby listened to the sound of Josh's voice and confused words and frowned. "Were you asleep?"

Josh sat up straighter and took a deep breath. "Yeah," Josh ran his hand over his face and shook his head again. "Sorry, I'm with it now. How is he?" There was a pause and any remnants of sleep that remained were dispelled by Toby's pause "Toby?" Josh laughed nervously.

"You need to come to the hospital. Sam's bad, Josh. Doctor Keel said if he makes it through the night he's got a good chance but he's got worse since then and they don't think-"

"I'm on my way," Josh said and hung up the phone. He arrived at the hospital a little while later. Donna had driven and CJ had sat in the back but Josh could remember none of the journey or what had transpired at the White House before it. It was only when he arrived at the ICU and saw Toby's expression that Josh accepted what was happening.