Devil s Due Page 0,64

a lab."

Ah. "A meth lab," Lucia said.

Susannah gave her an irritated look. "No, it wasn't a meth lab. I know the chemicals for a meth lab, and this wasn't - look, it was different. There were two things they were delivering there. Sodium cyanide and hydrochloric acid."

The skin tightened on the back of Lucia's neck. "Were they opening an electroplating lab? Those are chemicals used - "

"Electroplating? You've got to be kidding! When I say I know what chemicals you use for a meth lab, how do you think I know that? I'm not a damn saint, and he wasn't opening any damn legitimate business. This was something else. Maybe the paperwork says electroplating, I don't know, but it's a lie. Can't you use that crap for something else, too?"

"Possibly." Noncommittal was the best strategy. If Susannah got frightened - more frightened - there was no telling what she might do. "I can check it out if you want. Where's the lab?"

"In SubTropolis," Susannah said.

Lucia frowned. "I don't - "

McCarthy, sure enough, was within earshot. He walked to the bedroom doorway, leaned against the frame and said, "Underground business complex. It's huge. You're going to need more than that. A business name, a unit number..."

"I don't know, okay? He didn't tell me anything. When I asked, he got mad." Susannah pointed at her face. "I didn't ask any more questions."

Lucia looked from her to Ben. "We could track suppliers. That could give us the unit number."

"Or we could just give the FBI the information." He nodded at Susannah. "And her."

"I can make the phone call, but without some proof, I don't think Agent Rawlins is going to be giving it much priority. He's overworked. He barely responded when we had anthrax in an envelope." She paused, thinking about it. "I know somebody to talk to, but he's undercover. I'll have to arrange a drive-by meeting. Shouldn't take long."

McCarthy didn't look happy about it.

"How are you going to get there?" he asked. "To your meeting? I cant leave her alone here."

"That's the wonderful thing," Lucia said, and pulled the cell phone from her purse. "If you have a phone and a credit card, you can get just about anything delivered."

"Get pizza while you're at it."

She called FBI Special Agent Roger Cole ten minutes later. Cell phone, not office phone. Two minutes of idle chatting, a simple thirty-second request, and silence from him on the other end.

"Is this going to bite me in the ass?" he asked her. He was in his car. The road noise nearly overwhelmed his voice. "Because I'd like to know how, so I can get my will ready."

"It might make your day, Roger. If I'm right."

"Then you should give me everything you have so I can get to work on it. Or better yet, somebody else can. I'm a little busy. Maybe you've heard, somebody's been playing with funny little white powder in envelopes."

"I've heard," she said blandly; he knew perfectly well who'd gotten the envelope. "This could be connected." A lie, but a nebulous one.

"Yeah?" The road noise lessened; he was pulling over.

"Okay, give. What do you have, and why aren't you talking to your red-haired boy?"

"My red-haired boy isn't exactly jumping through hoops for me at the moment."

"Don't be that way. He had four guys on the street looking for you, you know. He was distressed."

"So distressed he hasn't bothered to make a phone call to say hello and interrogate me about what I know? He's got bigger and juicier fish to catch just now. Look, all you have to do is track the shipments of chemicals to a specific address in SubTropolis, and I'll do the rest. If it checks out, it's yours. You get to be the hero." She read out the names of the specific chemicals as Susannah had given them. "Sound like anything to you?"

"Electroplating," he said. "And gas chambers. Fuck. You've done it again, haven't you?"

"Are you going to get me the information?" His sigh rattled in the speaker. "No. I'll get the info, but I go with you."

"I don't want a full team for reconnaissance."

"Relax. I'll make some calls, pick you up in..." he paused to check the time "...about an hour, okay?"

"Thank you."

The pizza arrived in forty-five minutes, and the driver looked nervous when Lucia met him at the door to hand him cash. She didn't doubt the apartment complex had a bad rep among deliverymen. She added on a considerable tip for his trouble, and hoped