The Chemistry of Death

Chapter 34

Ziggy walked around Grand Central Terminal like an ordinary New Yorker, a Mets cap pulled low over his eyes. Facial recognition concentrated on the eyes, and his were barely visible as he wandered around the information booth, looked up at the constellations, and headed over to the shopping arcade.

Tesla’s office was there. He’d somehow managed to convince the real estate office to rent him an office space in a sea of retail shops. Money could buy anything, especially in New York.

This was proving to be a good thing. If that man had an ordinary office, Ziggy would never get near it. There’d be security on the first floor, card keys everywhere. Here, he was anonymous. He could walk right by, enter the store across the corridor, smell the expensive soaps and perfumes, and watch the only exit and entrance. The name Lucid looked out at him from the door.

He wondered if he should choose eucalyptus mint soap or grapefruit mint. The eucalyptus was more bracing. It reminded him of a smelly ointment his sister had rubbed on his chest when he got colds as a boy. It didn’t make him feel powerful. It made him feel vulnerable. He chose grapefruit mint.

A young guy walked up to Lucid’s office and worked the buzzer. He wore the brown uniform of a courier and pushed a dolly. They must be sending something big out.

The doors opened, and Ziggy looked through into the office. A giant glass brain dominated the room, but he was more interested in the man who had taken everything from him. That man sat next to the reception desk in a wheelchair.

Ziggy’s heart skipped a beat. The man must have been wounded in the tunnels last night. Maybe the train had hit him. Whatever had happened, he clearly couldn’t walk. That simplified things. It simplified things so very much.

The door closed again, but he had seen all he needed to.

He paid for the soap and lingered by the door on the way out, looking through a bin of umbrellas, yellow and black as wasps. He dipped his hand down between the umbrellas and stuck a small black object to the bottom of the bin, careful to make sure that the lens faced Lucid’s front door. No one would notice the little camera with all the umbrellas piled on top of it.

He’d be able to monitor the camera remotely and see who entered and left the office. It was Sunday, so the office was likely to be empty already. He’d seen Tesla and a woman through the door, and he bet they were the only ones there, but he had to be sure.

And then there was the dog.

With the man laid up in a wheelchair, he’d have to send the dog out for a walk. That would leave the office practically empty.

Ziggy needed to gather supplies. He could come back as soon as the dog left, disable anyone else in the office, and take Tesla. Then drug him, take him where he needed him, force him to play his part.

In the Finale.