Harriet truly hated Halloween. Every year without fail she was expected to be the nasty, evil, children hating or rather children loving (for lunch) witch. This year she hated it even more.

She would report for her shift tomorrow at the local children's floor of the hospital, just before 7 am and was expected to firstly wear the ridiculous costume and secondly pretend to cackle throughout the day. The children loved the idea that the entire staff would dress up and truly portray their roles. It was an act of love for these little ones.

At least this year, every member of the staff was reluctant to get into the Halloween festivities. Something weird was happening. The police were investigating and felt it was a good idea for the costumes, provided they had a list of staff members and costumes. All staff were required to wear their identification badges- no exceptions.

The strangeness had started two weeks ago and unfortunately had become a daily happening. The first two days did not raise any questions. After all, no surgeries were guaranteed. The death of a child was never easy to understand and to accept. Of course, there was always a detailed investigation. There would be weeks without any problems and then a fragile child would not survive. So, when a child died on day one and another on day two, even the parents had been prepared for the negative outcome.

Now there is an unwritten law or rule that claims bad things and deaths happen in threes. However, the third death on the third day did not involve a surgical patient. It involved a child, who was showing positive progress; her death was totally unexpected. When on the fourth day there was a fourth child who succumbed to the realm of darkness; the police were called in by the hospital administration.

Within two hours each child had an assigned officer to guard and protect them every minute of every day and night. All twenty-two children were buddied with a plain clothed officer. It was explained to the children that the hospital was trying out a new volunteer program to ensure that the children would not feel lonely. The parents were brought into the loop and fully approved.

Despite the protection, the deaths continued. One death a day. Sometimes in surgery, sometimes in recovery, sometimes when most unexpected. Still a death a day.

There was a murderer loose, taking the precious lives of the little ones. Something had to be done, this had taken too long to solve. The parents understandably were stressed beyond stress. The children sensed something was wrong but not the severity of the situation.

By the end of the first week, the hospital arranged to close the floor to admissions under the ruse of a contagious outbreak. But the deaths continued each day, every day. The staff were befuddled, the police bewildered. How was this continuing?

The death count was now at fourteen, that was fourteen too many as far as the staff were concerned. Dealing with children and severe illnesses was always stressful with a sense of touch and go; but for these innocents to die needlessly was too much.

No one, really had the heart to participate in the Halloween activities but it was something that had made some of the magic happen on the floor. Each staff was assigned a costume. And of course Harriet was once again the witch.

Little Andrew was under her watch today and was scheduled for the operating room for 9 am. His pre-op work had been completed by 8 am and he was anxiously waiting. His parents were on pins and needles not knowing if this would be the last time they saw their four year old. It was a simple procedure; but then nothing could be considered simple since the deaths had started.

Since it was Halloween, all children were being well sedated before their journey to surgery. The surgical team obviously could not be costumed.

Harriet entered her security access to the pixus machine that stored medications and medical supplies. She withdrew the small vial of medication that would help Andrew relax, two alcohol swabs and two prepackaged syringes, one half cc size. The pharmacy always stocked pediatric doses to prevent errors.

Using one swab she snapped the vial and withdrew the contents into one of the syringes. Two were always taken just in case the needle became contaminated. The protocol for recapping, although, not recommended, was to scoop the cap back on rather than replacing with one's fingers.

As luck would have it, as some may say, poor Harriet was accidently bumped and ended up with a finger stick. Of course, this constituted not only an incident report but a medication error as well- both to be reported to the floor supervisor.

Suddenly Harriet felt whoozy with a rush and a pounding headache. Her first thought was that this was not a normal reaction to the medication in the syringe followed closely by the reality of what she was feeling.

She called the supervisor and the chief inspector to the room and had the ward clerk announce a special code over the PA system.

"I know what has been happening. I know what has been causing the children to die. I don't know who but I am pretty sure I know how." She was almost shouting.

"It is the syringes, they have been tampered with. Look at this packaging. The one I opened to use is stickier on the end that I should have opened on, I was taught to pop it thru the paper rather than peel open. The needle has been exposed to digitalis and then resealed. The syringes have been scattered through the pixus in surgery and the three on the floor. Adult strength digitalis would be too much for a child. Someone who packaged these knew they were for pediatric patients." She explained, "I didn't realize until the finger stick and the rushing headache- all symptoms when exposed to dig."

All syringes were exchanged out by pharmacy within ten minutes. The syringes which were removed were confiscated by the police for examination.

Little Andrew was properly sedated and returned to his smiling parents after his procedure.

Harriet was now known as the good witch who saved the day. She would no longer have a problem being a witch at Halloween.

The police revealed that the murderer had been apprehended, charged, and serving repeat sentences. Their investigation included screening all the employees in central supply, especially those who worked in sterilizing syringes. Phillip Watts was a long term staff member, who for a while frequently offered to do overtime. He had taken time off after his sister's little boy had died. He felt he had to offer support to her in her grief. He then worked the overtime to catch up on lost wages although he had used vacation time. He used just one box of syringes which he opened, contaminated with a stolen vial of adult strength digitalis and resealed in groups of five. When all were completed he mixed them into the boxes throughout the floor pixus and the operating room supply. The motive was revenge for the loss of a relative's child who had been a patient at the hospital. A total of fifty syringes had been tampered with.

Fifty children could have died.