implanted just below the hide using a needle. They can be easily read with a handheld scanner.”
“Can anyone do this?”
“Most often this is done by a veterinarian or breeder, but it would seem to be a simple procedure, that could be done by anyone able to stick a needle in his dog.”
“How do you know all this miscellaneous information?”
“Pugg has large blocks of free time while he waits to score with chicks, so he reads books, many of which are filled with interesting but basically useless information.”
“What would a scanner look like?”
“Pugg has never seen one, but he imagines it might look like a small television remote.”
“Look around the condo while I make icing and see if you can find one. Look in Marty’s room first.”
Cate was finishing the last cake, piping on small yellow flowers, when Pugg came into the kitchen with the scanner.
“Pugg thinks he found the scanner,” he said. “It was in Marty’s office and could easily be overlooked in a drawer with other electronic gizmos. Pugg thinks this is the scanner because Pugg could not get it to work the television or DVD player.”
Cate took the scanner in her hand. “It’s light.”
“Yes. The average chip scanner weighs four ounces and can read transponders operating at 125 and 128 kHz. Pugg believes this particular scanner is Swiss-made to read a fifteen-digit code and needs a transponder operating at 134 kHz. It sells for $179.95 on the Internet and weighs less than three ounces.”
“You must have a photographic memory.”
“At the risk of ruining your inflated opinion of Pugg, Pugg read most of that on the back of the scanner.”
Cate dropped the scanner in her purse and carefully boxed the cakes.
“I got these boxes from the bakery on the corner so everything would stay nice,” she said to Pugg. “You take two of them, and I’ll take two of them. Just be very careful not to tip them. I don’t want the icing to get smushed.”
They maneuvered out of the condo with the cakes, and Cate made sure the door was locked behind her. They rode one floor down in the elevator, and carried the cakes into Julie’s apartment and set them on her kitchen counter.
“The little old folks are gonna love these cakes,” Julie said. “The trolley’s coming by special to pick them up.”
“Pugg… I mean,
“What the dickens is a scanner?” Julie asked.
“It’s a device for reading a microchip,” Cate said. “We think Marty might have installed one in Beast. It would be a safe way to transport bank codes or safe combinations.”
“That sounds real high tech. My cousin Orville used to do something like that. He was a professional balloon swallower. If you wanted something transported somewhere and you didn’t want anyone to know, Orville would put it in a balloon and swallow it. It worked real good except the downside was you had to wait a day or two for Orville to poop it out.”
“Your cousin Orville was a mule?” Pugg asked. “That’s a very dangerous profession.”
“Yeah, but if Orville didn’t do that he was pretty much unemployable. He once dropped his teeth in the deep fryer at Burger King. He said he sneezed and next thing his dentures were in with the French fries. Lucky for him he was good at carryin’ drugs or else he wouldn’t have been able to keep up the payments on his double-wide.”
“Is Orville still employed in this manner?” Pugg asked.
“No, poor ol’ Orville was carryin’ a balloon from Mexico to Birmingham one day, and it got a little pinhole in it and leaked some of the stuff out into Orville. By the time he got to Birmingham he was foamin’ at the mouth. He didn’t die, but he’s still droolin’ and foamin’, and he thinks everyone’s Walter Cronkite. So my Aunt Madelyn had to put Orville in the Shady Rest Nursing Home. It was a shame, but Orville had a real good run before the pinhole.”
“Shit happens,” Pugg said. “Excuse my French.”
Cate put Julie’s typed pages on the counter next to the cakes. “I have about twenty pages here,” Cate said. “Take a look at them and make sure they’re okay. I have to run. I want to talk to Kellen before I leave for work.”
“Do you need Pugg to escort you?” Julie asked.
“No. I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe you could stop in and say hello to Sharon for a second,” Julie said. “She’s nutty over 2B again, and I haven’t been able to do anything with her. I swear she’s such a sensible, grounded person, except for her shoes and 2B.”
Chapter FIFTEEN
Cate left Julie’s apartment and rang Sharon’s bell. No answer. On a hunch Cate went down a level and found Sharon in the hall, looking wild-eyed and wringing her hands.
“What’s up?” Cate said. “You look a little unhinged.”
“The door’s open.”
“Excuse me?”
“The door to 2B. Take a closer look. It’s open just a smidgeon.”
Cate took a closer look. “Yep,” she said. “It’s open.”
“Someone’s in there,” Sharon said.
“It could be the housekeeper. Or the plumber again.”
“It’s him,” Sharon said. “Mr. M. He’s home. I can feel it. My skin is tingling.”
“Oh boy.”
“What should I do?”
“Nothing?”
“Should I ring the bell and tell him his door is open?”
“Yeah. Ring the bell.”
“I can’t. I’m too nervous.”
Cate rang the bell.
“Omigod,” Sharon said, her hand in a death grip on Cate’s arm. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“When he answers just tell him his door was open.”
A couple of moments passed and no one answered the door. Cate rang the bell again. No response.
“Maybe he’s dead on the floor,” Sharon said. “Maybe this is the death building.”
“Maybe you’re a fruitcake.”
“Do you think we should go in and investigate?”
“No.”
“Okay then,” Sharon said, pushing the door a little more open, peeking inside. “But it was your idea.”
“It wasn’t my idea. I said no!”
“Hello-o-o,” Sharon called softly. “Anybody home?”
“That’s it. I’m leaving,” Cate said.
Sharon had hold of Cate’s shirt. “You can’t abandon me. We’re in this together.”
“You’re insane! You’re in this all by yourself. Let go of my shirt.”
“Please. Please. Please. I have to find out about this guy. And suppose he really is dead or hurt or something. It’s our obligation as neighbors to help him, right?”
“If he’s dead it won’t matter. And if he’s hurt he should be moaning. Do you hear moaning?”
They both stopped and listened.
“No moaning,” Sharon said.
“He probably took trash to the trash room.”
“He’d be back by now if he was on a trash run.” Sharon had inched her way into the living room. “This is nice.
