Lilburn considered a quick forceful entry but decided instead to take an easier option. He placed a finger across his lips, a silent signal to the team, then he knocked on the door.
“You’re wasting your time knocking on that door, sonny.” The elderly black woman from number twenty-seven had her head out her door, looking at the men. “No one in there. Those A-rabs went out early this morning, ain’t come back. Not that I care. Hey, ain’t you two boys the same ones I talked to the other day?”
“Morning, ma’am,” Maitland approached the lady. “Me and the other uniform here are the same ones. Yes.”
“I figured it was you, I don’t forget faces, I remember you and that handsome young friend of yours. You here to bust them A-rabs? I was going to ring you again.”
“Why was that, ma’am?”
“I was gonna get back on the phone and tell you to come right on back and bust those A-rabs’ skinny asses. I don’t have to now, I see you bought the whole dang station wid you!”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Lilburn approached the woman. “I didn’t get your name?”
“Nope, cause I didn’t get yours, hon.”
Lilburn smiled at the old woman’s brashness. “My name’s Matt, what’s yours?”
“Folks around here call me Bonny.”
“Nice to meet you, Bonny. Did you call the police here a couple of days ago?”
“I sure did — and it was high time somebody did something about that damn caterwaulin’…
Lilburn cut off what looked like turning into a lengthy tirade. “Bonny, I bet you could tell us a thing or two about those two men next door?”
“You bet your bottom dollar.”
“When did you last see them?”
“This morning they woke me up real early with that wailing and chanting, then a bit later after some more wailing, they ups and goes out.”
Inspector Gibbons moved in closer. “There might be some CCTV cameras around this area. If Bonny here can identify them from footage we can get out an APB. That all right with you, ma’am?”
Bonny turned her attention to Gibbons. “Folks around here don’t take kindly to cameras snooping on them. I don’t want no perverts looking at me neither. And what’s an AP whatsit?”
“Sorry, ma’am, didn’t mean to offend you.” Gibbons explained that security cameras could help in providing information on what the two Syrian men were wearing, so police could issue the description to patrols in the area.
“You don’t need no cameras to do that — I know exactly what they was wearing and the exact time they left. I wrote it all down.” She leaned into Lilburn and whispered. “Evidence.”
Lilburn stifled a smile. “Bonny, I would really appreciate it if I could see what you wrote.”
“You just wait here, hon, and let old Bonny get her writing pad.” Bonny felt pleased with herself, and smiled up at Lilburn. Gibbons got a quick, less-than-approving look as she went back inside to retrieve her notes.
“Here it is, honey bunch, all written down. Now let me see. Ah yes.” Bonny read out aloud from her notes.
Gibbons wrote down the information. When she finished, she watched Gibbons completing his writing. “Wonder you don’t just take a picture of my book wid your phone. Be quicker.”
Lilburn grinned, pleased with her informative notes. It was time to see what was in the apartment next door. “It’s been a pleasure, Bonny, you’ve done well. If by chance you see your neighbors again, would you mind giving me a call?” Taking out a business card he handed it over.
Bonny held the card out at arm’s length. “My, my… Homeland Security!” Bonny held the card up comparing the likeness of the photo ID to the tall man standing in front of her. “You’re a handsome young man, Matt Lilburn. If I were forty years younger I’d invite you in… not him though,” Bonny indicated Gibbons.
She burst out laughing as Lilburn gave her a wink.
As expected, the door was locked. Lilburn didn’t waste any time as he stepped back and gave an almighty kick. The door flew open.
“Officer Maitland, compare what you see now with what you and Martinez saw the other day,” Lilburn said as they entered the living area.
“Looks pretty much the same, sir, nothing jumps out.” Maitland tried to remember the brief visit. “I recall speaking to one of the suspects here in this room, then I went into the kitchen over there.” Moving around Lilburn and the inspector, the officer entered the kitchen area. “The wrapping paper with the stamps on it was on the bench about here… not there now though… hang on. Some folk keep their garbage under the sink.” Opening a cupboard door the officer removed the object he had been looking for and placed it on the sink bench. The light-blue-colored rectangular plastic bin was half full of household rubbish and decomposing food scraps. “Ah shit. Hey, Martinez, you got any gloves on you?”
The officer shook his head. “Sorry.”
“Great.” If the inspector wasn’t here Maitland would have detailed Martinez to sort through the pile. Deciding the sink was the best place to empty the container he first placed the sink plug in the drain hole. As he upended the bin the contents spewed out, helped with a couple of quick jerks and a tap on its bottom.
“Yep, there’s what looks like the brown wrapping paper.” A few shakes of the paper dislodged some potato peels and some gooey thick liquid Maitland didn’t even want to think about. Dragging the paper to the side with a finger and thumb, he placed it on the stainless steel bench top. “This is it and there’s the stamp, just like the one I saw at my brother’s place.”
Lilburn looked for himself. The country was unmistakable. “Syria it is.”
“That’s about all I really remember. Martinez did a check of the other rooms. Me, I looked some more around here. Nothing unusual.”
“Think harder.” Lilburn needed more information. “Anything, even something that maybe wasn’t that out of place but still caught your eye, something you may have smelt, touched.”
Maitland gave a short whistle, a sound of exasperation, a symbolic sign to show others he was trying. “You know…” He looked around the kitchen area spinning on his heels. “There were plastic dish things on the windowsill here… what did you call them, Martinez?”
“Petri dishes.”
“Anything else?”
“Nah, I walked back over there, spoke to the suspect.” Maitland started retracing his steps, then remembered something. “I kicked over some cans here on the floor, spray cans, deodorant or something like that. They’re gone too, can’t see them now, then I got Martinez to look in the other rooms and then we took down the guys’ details.”
“Whoa, back up a bit.” Lilburn was trying to create the past scene in his mind. “Spray cans. Cans of deodorant?” Something Evangeline said back at Albany triggered his brain. Aerosols. Aerosols was one method of dispersing the virus. “How many cans were there?”
“Hell, I don’t know, I didn’t take much notice.”
“Try harder, it’s important.”
Maitland looked to Inspector Gibbons as if to say What the fuck has a bunch of damn spray cans got to do with anything?
“Come on — spray cans, how many?”
Lilburn’s determination hadn’t gone unnoticed. Gibbons was still trying to fathom a link between Homeland Security’s interest in the Muslim cleric and now these two Middle Eastern men and what was in their apartment. He didn’t know what to think, but terrorism was the most likely; the world was full of it and America was continually on high alert. Gibbons remained silent, for now. He would see what eventuated.
“Four… five, maybe a half-dozen.”
Lilburn was painting a picture: parcel from Syria, now empty of its contents, spray cans. His gut feeling was that the apartment held a link to the bioterrorism threat. Lilburn dialed Homeland and asked to be put through to Dr. Evangeline Crawston. Aware that the other four in the apartment room weren’t yet privy to a potential virus threat, Lilburn needed to keep the conversation generic.