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“I want to see what’s in the Zeta cellar and Pooka’s apartment.”
“I’m assuming we don’t want Pooka in his apartment when we look at it.”
“Correct. I can arrange to have him out when we’re going in, but there’s the alarm.”
“I can manage the alarm. Just give me the address.”
“You’re going to hack his alarm?”
“Not me personally.”
I texted Gobbles and told him to get Pooka out of his apartment and to send me the address. I got an answer back in less than five minutes. Gobbles was meeting Pooka at a Starbucks in a half hour. The address he gave me for Pooka’s apartment was close to Kiltman.
Ranger made a phone call and passed the address on, asking for a two-hour window. I assumed this was to his hacker, who for all I knew could be in China.
“Let’s roll,” Ranger said. “I have afternoon client meetings.”
I stood and he gave me a slow full-body scan, taking in the skinny jeans.
“Babe, you must want more than two simple break-ins.”
I smiled at him. “Maybe.”
Holy cats. Was I flirting with Ranger? This was all Lula’s fault.
We took the elevator to the garage, and Ranger chose to drive my Macan. The Macan was like a stealth Porsche. It flew under the radar and didn’t draw the attention of Ranger’s 911 Turbo.
Pooka lived in a large house that had been subdivided into four apartments. His apartment was on the second floor and ran front to back. He had his own outside entrance at the rear of the house, plus an interior entrance that opened off the front door. He was two blocks from the Kiltman campus and three blocks from the Starbucks where he was going to meet Gobbles. It was a Saturday morning and traffic was minimal.
Ranger parked across the street and one house down. Julie was going to call us when Pooka walked into the Starbucks, but it wasn’t necessary because we saw Pooka leave his house. He exited through the front door and turned left. We watched him walk a block and turn left again.
We crossed the street, walked into the house as if we owned it, and took the stairs to Pooka’s apartment. Ranger tried the door. Locked. He took a slim pick from his pocket and opened the door. No alarm.
We stepped in, closed the door, and stood for a couple beats taking it all in. It was like a hoarder was conducting mad scientist lab experiments. Small aquariums stacked three tall lined a kitchen counter. There were more of them in the room that was designed to be a living room but was now a strange office and lab.
He had a large scarred wood desk that held stacks of papers, crumpled fast food bags, cigarettes stubbed out in used coffee cups, a small digital food scale, and a place for a computer, but the computer was missing.
The single bedroom contained more aquariums, more stacks of papers, and an unmade bed. The ratty quilt on the bed had ink stains and cigarette burns on it. More crumpled fast food bags and discarded Starbucks coffee cups.
I took a closer look at the aquariums and broke out in goosebumps. They were filled with tiny bugs. Every aquarium.
“What are these?” I asked Ranger.
“I’m not an expert, but they look like fleas,” Ranger said. “I imagine he’s breeding them for use in an experiment.”
No surprises in the bathroom. It was filthy as expected. The medicine chest was crammed with sleep aids, decongestants, pill bottles without labels, Benadryl, and a variety of prescription meds.
Kitchen cabinets were filled with screw-capped jars holding powdered chemicals. Some were labeled and some weren’t. One whole cabinet was devoted to small empty glass vials with stoppers. Mixed in with the powdered chemicals was a box of Cheerios and a jar of peanut butter.
He had a pint of chocolate ice cream and a bag of frozen mice in his freezer. The refrigerator contained a half gallon of milk, and what appeared to be a bag of blood.
There were assorted devices on a small kitchen table that a biologist or chemist might use. A Bunsen burner, a couple glass flasks, a suction device, and there were furry black spots of something growing in a petri dish.
“I’m completely grossed out,” I said to Ranger. “How can anyone live in here?”
“I want to take a quick look at some of these stacks of papers. While I’m doing that I’d like you to document the apartment. Go through and take pictures of the fleas and the equipment
and the medicine chest.”
