Plum Spooky

  We dropped Lula off at her house, and Hal followed behind in the Jeep.

  “Hal looks terrified,” I said to Ranger.

  Ranger checked him out in the rearview mirror. “This is going to cost me. I’m going to have to give him hazard pay for this trip.”

  We took the Turnpike and the Atlantic City Expressway. We exited the Expressway, and Ranger wound his way around the Barrens to Gail Scanlon’s compound. He drove the SUV into the habitat yard and parked. Hal parked behind him, and we all got out. Four monkeys had returned to the habitat and were huddled together on an outside table. They were still wearing their helmets.

  “We took the helmets off the monkeys I had in the Jeep,” I told Ranger. “We couldn’t figure out why they were wearing them.”

  “Did Gail Scanlon put these helmets on?”

  “I doubt it. I think it must have been Munch or Wulf.”

  Ranger approached the huddled monkeys, removed the helmets, and gave them to Hal.

  “Put these in my SUV,” he said. “If Wulf wants them back, he can talk to me.”

  We wrangled the remaining monkeys into the compound. We set food out and made sure there was fresh water. We closed and locked the door.

  “Eep,” Carl said, monkey fingers curled around the chain-​link fence, looking out at me.

  I opened the door, let Carl out, and relocked the door.

  “He doesn’t belong with the rest of the monkeys,” I said to Ranger.

  “No doubt,” Ranger said.

  We went into Gail Scanlon’s house and took stock. It seemed exactly as I’d left it.

  “I’m going to leave you here,” Ranger said to Hal. “Make sure the monkeys have food and water. As soon as I get phone reception, I’ll dispatch someone to bring in a couple days’ supplies and communication.”

  Hal seemed okay with that. He was out of the monkey truck. Life was sweet again.

  Ranger, Carl, and I left the compound. Ranger stopped when he got to the paved road.

  “Do you want to look for Munch or Gail Scanlon?” Ranger asked.

  “I wouldn’t know where to begin. They’re here somewhere, but I have absolutely no direction. We did aerial surveillance and couldn’t find anything.” I pulled Gordo Bollo’s file out of my bag. “This is the guy who threw the tomatoes at me. He lives in Bordentown, and since it’s a weekend, he might be home. I’d love to catch him.”

  Ranger looked at the file and punched the address into his navigation system.

  “What’s the charge on this guy?”

  “His ex-​wife remarried, and I guess he had unresolved marital issues because he ran over the new groom with his pickup truck, twice.”

  A half hour down the road, Carl was squirmy in the backseat.

  “Puh,” Carl said. “Puh, puh, puh.”

  Ranger’s eyes flicked to Carl in the rearview mirror.

  “Does he want to live?” Ranger asked.

  “Eep,” Carl said.

  The nav system got us to Ward Street, and it didn’t look any more promising this time than it had last time. A cemetery ran down one side, and on the other was scrub field and the ceramic pipe factory. Ranger drove the length of it, turned, and drove back. He stopped at the entrance to the cemetery.

  “Babe, there aren’t any houses here.”

  “Connie double-​checked this address.”

  Ranger called in to his office and asked them to run Gordo Bollo. Minutes later, the same address came back.

  “I’m sitting here, and there’s no house,” Ranger said. “It’s a field next to a ceramic pipe factory. Go into the tax rec ords and see who owns this land.”

  Ranger waited for the answer, and when it came, he disconnected.

  “Gordo Bollo owns 656 Ward, but it’s a lot. No house.”

  DIESEL WAS AT the dining room table with coffee and my computer when Carl and I walked in.

  “Every time I call you for help, you don’t answer your phone,” I said. “Where were you this time? Peru? Madagascar?”

  “I was in the shower. You didn’t say to call back. I figured you were pulling on rubber gloves and decontaminating Munch’s house.”

  “The monkeys all escaped through the pet door.”

  “There’s a pet door?”

  “Anyway, I found them and took them back to the habitat. Ranger has one of his men staying there until we find Gail.”

  “It looks like you didn’t take them all back to the habitat.”

  “I guess Carl had enough of the nuts and berries thing. What are you doing on the computer?”

  “HTPB stands for hydroxyl-​terminated polybutadiene. It’s a clear, thick liquid used for rocket fuel. APCP is ammonium perchlorate composite propellant, an oxidizing agent that helps burn the fuel. BlueBec rockets are sounding rockets. They’re about eigh teen feet in length, and they carry instruments designed to take mea sure ments and perform experiments in the suborbital area of the Earth’s atmosphere. They’re Canadian made, and they’ve been around a long time. It would be fairly easy for Wulf to get his hands on some.”

  “Do you think this is what made the rocket tails we saw when we were in the Barrens?”

  “No. I think we saw something smaller.”

  Diesel punched a number into his cell phone.

  “I need a favor,” he said to whoever was on the other end. “Eugene Scanlon was project manager at a research lab in Trenton, Brytlin Technologies. I need the names and addresses of everyone on his team.”

  Diesel shut down the computer and went to the kitchen for fresh coffee. “Your rat is awake,” he said.

  “He’s a hamster.”

  “Whatever.”

  I gave Rex fresh water and dropped half a walnut and a baby carrot into his bowl.

  “How will your contact get the names and addresses?”

  “I don’t know. He has ways. I imagine he’ll hack into the company computer.”

  “That’s illegal.”

  “You have a problem with that?”

  “Just saying. Where will Wulf go to get the rocket fuel?”

  “I’d guess whoever had the barium also had the ability to get the fuel components.”

  “Yeah, but Wulf blew one of those guys to smithereens.”

  Diesel answered his phone and wrote three names and addresses on the back of Munch’s shopping list. He hung up and shoved the list into his pocket.

  “I want to talk to these people.”

  “It would go faster if we divided them up. It’s Sunday, and Gail has been missing since Thursday. We have no idea what Wulf intended to do with her, but it can’t be good. Maybe we should bring the police in.”

  “Give me one more day. If Wulf learns the police are combing the Barrens, he’ll pack up and leave. And he’ll take Munch and Gail Scanlon with him … or worse. There were two other people working under Scanlon. Lu Kim Rule and Vladimir Strunchek. The third name I have is his supervisor. Barry Berman. Berman lives in north Trenton, Rule lives not far from here on Becker, and Strunchek was Eugene Scanlon’s neighbor. You take Rule, I’ll talk to Berman, and we’ll meet back here and do Strunchek together.”

  The Subaru was in the parking lot, but the Jeep that Ranger had loaned me was with Hal in the Barrens.

  “Drive me to my parents’ house,” I said to Diesel. “I can borrow my Great-​Uncle Sandor’s car.”

  When Sandor went into assisted living, he gave my Grandma Mazur his car. Since Grandma has had her license revoked, the behemoth ’53 powder blue and white Buick Roadmaster is mine to use in emergency situations. It’s not my favorite car, but it’s free.

  Diesel dropped me off, and I ran inside to get the keys from my mother.

  “What happened to your car?” my mother wanted to know.

  I didn’t know where to begin. Was she talking about the car that was destroyed by raccoons or the car that was filled with monkeys?

  “It’s getting ser viced,” I said. “Oil change, spark plugs, the works.”

  I gra
bbed a couple chocolate chip cookies from the cookie jar and ran to the garage. I backed the Buick out and hoped no one was green in the neighborhood. The V-8 engine could be heard a block away, and the trip down the driveway alone sucked up a quarter tank of gas.

  Lu Kim Rule lived less than a half mile away. It was a solid working-​class neighborhood with mom-​and-​pop businesses mixed with two-​story, residential row houses. A kid answered the door and yelled “Mom” when I asked for Lu Kim.

  Lu Kim was slim and of mixed cultures, with almond eyes and straight black hair. I introduced myself and asked if I could talk to her about Eugene Scanlon. Lu Kim stepped onto her porch and closed the door behind her.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I’m looking for Martin Munch,” I told her. “I think he might be with Eugene’s sister, and I think they might be in the Pine Barrens. Did either Eugene or Martin ever mention property in the Barrens?”

  “No. They never mentioned property anywhere.”

  “Tell me about Martin Munch.”

  Lu Kim rolled her eyes. “Martin Munch. A brilliant guy but creepy weird. I never had a conversation with him that his eyes ever went above my breasts. And in the two years we worked together, he never said anything that wasn’t work related. It was as if he’d gotten dropped from another planet.”

  “And Scanlon?”

  “My job for the group was more clerical than scientific. Eugene gave me professional papers to file, expense reports, equipment requisitions, that sort of thing, but he never talked to me. I worked for him for a year before I found out he wasn’t married. Mostly, Eugene talked to Martin. He thought Martin was the reincarnation of Einstein. He had his eye on everything Martin did.”

  “Do you know why Munch stole the magnetometer?”

  “I figured he just grabbed something and ran out of the building. He wasn’t exactly with the program all the time. I’d find his coffee mug in the file cabinet. And once he lost his car keys, and a week later I found them in the freezer.”

  “What about the research the group was doing?”

  “I wasn’t involved in that end of things, but it seemed like it was routine. We were subcontractors for a much larger project. It always looked to me like we were working with minutia, but I guess that’s the way it is in the scientific community.”

  I left my card with Lu Kim and chugged home in the Buick. I pulled into my lot and looked for the Subaru. I wasn’t surprised to find it missing. Even with Diesel rigging the traffic lights, he had a longer drive than I did. I parked and debated waiting in the lot for him. I checked my watch and thought about Carl. We’d left him alone in the apartment. It wasn’t a big deal. We’d left him alone before. Still, I felt uneasy. I took the elevator to my floor. I plugged my key in, opened the door, and stepped inside.

  I looked left and saw Carl on the kitchen counter, his back pressed against the hamster cage. Carl’s eyes were huge, and his monkey fur was standing on end. I looked right and saw Wulf.

  “It looks like my cousin has found a playmate,” Wulf said. “Too bad I’m going to have to ruin his fun.”

  I turned and put my hand on the doorknob, but the door was locked and wouldn’t open.

  “Martin is very depressed,” Wulf said. “He was looking forward to spending time with you, but you managed to escape, and he’s been moping ever since. As it turns out, when Martin is depressed, he’s not productive. And I need Martin to be productive. So you’re going to have to come with me.”

  “I’m sure there are lots of women who would be overjoyed to spend time with Martin.”

  “Unfortunately, he wants you. And since I can’t count on your cooperation, I’m going to have to scramble a few neurons.”

  “Is that the touchy, painful thing? I hate that.”

  Wulf reached out for me, and I jumped off into the kitchen, grabbed the still-​unwashed fry pan off the stove, and threw it at him. He batted it away, and I whacked him with the spatula. Still no expression on his face. He ripped the spatula out of my hand, grabbed my wrist, and it was good night. The last thing I heard was Carl.

  “Eep!”

  Stephanie Plum 14.5 - Plum Spooky

  EIGHTEEN

  I CAME AWAKE tired. Flat-​out exhausted to the point of being barely able to breathe. Too tired to open my eyes. Someone was talking to me, but it sounded like they were underwater.

  “Just let me sleep,” I said.

  “Steph!”

  I opened my eyes and looked at Diesel.

  “Are you okay?” he asked me.

  “No. I feel like death. Where am I?”

  “In your apartment.”

  “Oh yeah. I knew that.”

  I was stretched out on my bed, Carl was watching from the dresser, and Diesel had his hand wrapped around my wrist.

  “What are you doing?” I asked him. “My wrist burns.”

  “I’ve got a cold pack on it,” Diesel said.

  He took his hand away, and I saw he’d been holding a face cloth filled with crushed ice on my wrist. Under the face cloth was a red welt in the shape of a hand. Wulf’s hand.

  “He burned me!”

  Diesel put the ice pack back on my wrist. “It’s not a bad burn. It’ll fade in a couple weeks. Leave the ice on for a little while longer, and then rub some Bactine on the burn.”

  “I think I missed a chunk of action. The last thing I remember, I was in my kitchen, and Wulf zapped me. I’m getting fed up with the zapping thing. That was the third time. How does he do it?”

  “It’s not difficult. It’s a parlor trick. Like bending spoons.”

  “Can you do it?”

  “Yes. And you can, too, with a stun gun.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “Probably ten to fifteen minutes. He had you over his shoulder like a sack of flour when I pulled into the parking lot. He dropped you when he saw me, and he vanished behind a flash of light. I have to admit, I don’t know how he does the vanishing thing. It’s new. I think it’s a little over the top with the light and the smoke, but that’s Wulf. He’s always loved the dramatic.”

  “He said Munch was moping around, thinking about me, and wasn’t productive, so he came to get me for Munch.”

  “That makes my skin crawl. I don’t want you out of my sight until we resolve this.”

  “Oh great.”

  “You’re supposed to be relieved because big bad Diesel is going to protect you.”

  “I appreciate the thought, but I like to think I can protect myself.”

  Diesel pulled me to my feet. “Don’t get carried away with the strong female thing. Wulf isn’t normal. And I don’t know how to break this to you, but you have no self-​defense skills beyond kicking a guy in the nuts.”

  I was standing, but I wasn’t feeling especially stable. “I can’t feel my legs,” I said to Diesel.

  “You’ll come back faster if you walk around.”

  I took a step forward and went down to my knees. Diesel scooped me up and carried me to the foyer, with Carl scuttling behind him. Diesel shifted me to his shoulder, grabbed my bag, and opened the front door.

  He looked down at Carl. “Stay here and keep away from the pay-​per-​view stations.”

  “If you’d give me a moment, I could walk on my own,” I said.

  “We don’t have a moment. By the time we get to Strunchek, you’ll be fine.”

  He carried me to the elevator, across the lot, and loaded me into the Subaru. I had feeling in my hands and feet, but my ass was pins and needles.

  “What did you find out from Eugene’s supervisor?” I asked Diesel.

  He took the wheel and drove out of the lot. “Not much. He wouldn’t talk about the project. Said Eugene never talked about property in the Barrens. He knew Eugene had a sister in Philadelphia and a sister somewhere else, but that was all. He knew even less about Munch. He said Munch was brilliant but hard to keep focused. It sounded like Munch might have been on his way out. What about Lu Kim?”


  “I got even less from her.”

  All traffic lights were green, so we made Strunchek’s condo complex in record time. I swung my legs out of the Subaru and walked a few steps. My ass had stopped tingling, and everything seemed to be in working order.

  Strunchek answered the door with a can of beer in his hand. He was in his midthirties, had badly cut brown hair, a body gone soft, and bloodshot blue eyes. I was guessing that before starting on the beer he’d done some preliminary weed.