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have any manufacturing facilities in New York City?" Cotten asked.

    "Seems like the marketing manager at Blaze mentioned that they have a service center here and one out on the West Coast in Los Angeles. No manufacturing, just replacement parts and repairs." He turned to his keyboard and typed. A moment later, a sheet of paper slipped from his laser printer.
    "Here's the info. The facility here is located in Brooklyn."

    "Thanks, you've been a big help." She stood and took the paper.

    "Hey, anytime," he said. "So why the interest?"

    Cotten smiled. "I'm thinking about buying a new laptop."

    CAGES

    The sign over the door readT-Kup Technologies, Factory Service and Support. The building, one of three in a row along Doughty Street, was a windowless, three-story brick structure. As Cotten watched the taxi that brought her pull away, she began to have second thoughts of coming alone. The new intern had offered to accompany her, but canceled at the last moment, saying something had come up. So with determination and a glance in both directions, Cotten pulled on the handle to the front door of T-Kup Technologies, but found it was locked. She pushed the button on the security entrance speaker. No response. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number on the sheet given to her by the SNN sales manager. A recording stated the number had been disconnected.

    Next, she walked down the sidewalk to an alley running along the side of the building. She glanced over her shoulder at Fulton Ferry Landing and the hundreds of tourists snapping pictures of the New York City skyline across the East River. The constant thunder of traffic from the Brooklyn Bridge and Expressway in the distance never let up.

    She headed into the alley. A hundred feet later, she passed a dumpster and came to a loading dock. Beside two large metal roll-up doors was a back entrance. Climbing the steps, she knocked on the rear door. A sign read:T-Kup deliveries. No answer. She tried the knob. Locked. But pushing on the door

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    caused it to give. Someone had used duct tape to keep the lock in the open position. With a rusty screech, the door swung open.

    A large empty room, probably the shipping department, stretched before her—shiny floor, scarred white walls, a few scraps of paper. The place reeked, not unlike the rancid odor inside Jeff Calderon's apartment.

    She pulled out her small LCD Maglite and a handful of tissues from her purse. Covering her nose with the tissues, Cotten aimed the light as she wandered through the semi-darkness of the vacant warehouse. The place had been stripped bare. She shone the light in a sweeping arc, suddenly coming to a stop on the only objects left behind. Jimmy Franks' story started to make sense.

    ***

    "Cages?" Ted Casselman said.

    "Yeah." Cotten and her boss sat on a bench just inside Central Park across the street from SNN headquarters.

    "You mean like security cages for parts or supplies?"

    "That's what I thought at first. There were twenty in all—ten stacked on top of ten."

    "Okay, so?"

    "How many storage cages have you ever seen with a mattress in each?"

    Ted glanced at the traffic on Columbus Circle. "Well, you got me there."

    "They were just big enough for someone to lie down in. Not much more. Like cages in the back of a vet's office for boarding pets, but imagine them large enough for humans instead." Cotten watched a double-decker tour bus swing into the Circle. She could almost hear the camera shutters clicking. "Calderon told his buddy that whoever made him sick used him like a lab rat."

    "So you think he was kept in one of those cages?"

    She nodded.

    "What did you find out about the building?"

    "Owned by a consortium of Asian investors called Rising Moon. Based out of Hong Kong. Privately held. The warehouse in Brooklyn is their only property in New York. But they also own a building in Los Angeles. Their sole tenant in each location is T-Kup Technologies. Then I expanded the search to