Chapters (62)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Also by Michael Palmer
- About the Author
The print curtains looked fairly new, and there were brass numbers nailed to the front of each red painted door. Joey lived in unit number six.
Carrying his package inside his sling, Joey fished his key ring out of his pocket and unlocked his door. Lou followed with the cook’s small duffel bag and then the carton of food.
Cozy, he thought. Cozy and surprisingly neat, but small.
There was a kitchenette and an adjacent dining area with a table for two that Lou guessed most often sat one. The sitting area featured a brown tweed sofa, modest flat-screen television mounted to the wall, and a couple of area rugs that covered part of a parquet floor.
“Where do you sleep?” Lou asked, noting that what was probably the door to a bedroom was closed.
Joey pointed to the couch. “It folds out into a bed,” he said. “It’s more comfortable than you’d think.”
“Oh, trust me,” Lou said. “I know all about foldout couches. What about your pet? Where do you keep it?”
“Them, not it. They’re in the bedroom,” he said. He nodded toward the closed door. Again, there was playfulness in his expression.
“So what’s in the bag?” Lou asked.
Joey pulled out what looked like a Chinese food leftover container and clumsily opened the top a bit.
Scampering about on the bottom were two small brown mice.
Ah, pet mice, Lou thought. Harmless enough.
Still, he understood why the young cook was reluctant to have Millie know about his hobby.
“Ready to see something cool?” Joey asked conspiratorially.
“Ready,” Lou said.
“You got to promise not to tell,” Joey said.
“Scout’s honor.”
Joey turned the knob and nudged the door open with his foot. A strange, musty odor immediately wafted out. The first thing Lou saw were two workbenches, with tools spread across the top. There was a small, empty wire cage at one end with a mouse wheel in it. But the main attraction was in the center of the room—a huge Lucite cube, six feet on each side, raised off the floor a foot or so on a heavy wooden platform. Fixed to the top of the cube and plugged into a wall socket by a long cord was what appeared to be a ventilation apparatus. There was also an inch-in-diameter Lucite tube, bent upward at a ninety-degree angle and sealed at the outer end with a rubber stopper and inside by what appeared to be a levered trapdoor.
Warming lights were clipped to two of the four sides, illuminating a tall, irregular mound arising from the floor at the center of the cube, and looking somewhat like the spired castle of a Disney princess. In one corner of the floor was a dish of water. In another was a mound of what looked like a mix of wood pieces and sawdust.