“Why?”
“She hated chemical smells.”
That was almost funny.
A system installed to hide chemical smells might itself have introduced them.
Still, one more thing bothered me.
“Where are the canisters stored?”
Thomas pointed down the corridor.
“Service closet.”
We went there.
Dr. Reeves followed reluctantly.
Nathan opened the closet.
Filters.
Cleaning supplies.
Replacement cartridges.
And several large plastic jugs.
The sweet smell hit me immediately.
Stronger.
I looked at Thomas.
“What are those?”
“Concentrate.”
“For the air system?”
“Yes.”
“Who mixes it?”
“Vendor technician.”
“On site?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“With distilled water.”
“Where?”
Thomas pointed toward a utility sink.I moved closer.
A handwritten laminated card hung above it.
EAST ZONE ODOR CONTROL — 1:3 MIX.
Thomas stared.
“That’s wrong.”
Nathan looked at him.
“How wrong?”
“The manufacturer calls for one ounce per three gallons.”
I looked at the card.
One to three.
No units.
Someone had simplified instructions badly.
Dr. Reeves went still.
