Molly calls Raahi about his bike, and he says it’s running great except that it attracts a certain amount of police attention. Raahi also tells Zhou that he’s acquired some pomegranate seeds that have the stench of the godly about them. Zhou emails Dan and asks if he knows of someone who can examine the seeds and figure out what they are and what they might mean.
Molly phones Zhou and learns that he’s heard of this “blow” stuff; it seems very local to Seattle, or at least he hasn’t heard anything about it anywhere else. It’s a new designer drug, an upper that someone cooked up in a lab in south Seattle. There seem to be different batches with differing effects; the process and the chemical are still being refined. There was an early wave of deadly ODs which is now slowing to a trickle. Zhou sends a drug-user employee of his to score some, a former meth-head from the bathhouse scene, with the idea of having it analyzed along with Raahi’s seeds.
Casey is still dealing with a guest, a fellow student who got burned out of their house. It’s kind of awkward sharing a dorm room with this guy.
Molly starts working on the communications suite of her awesome van.
Zhou gets an email from Dan saying that he’ll be in Seattle tomorrow on business. They arrange to meet at the same location. Unfortunately his employee fails to make his drug pickup, so Zhou and one of his security personnel go out in person to cruise the streets for dope. They drive down to Othello and walk in the direction of the gang tags; before long they’re someplace on “that gang”’s tag, but nobody’s selling the stuff on the street. Unfortunately, some burly Slavic dudes are tailing Zhou and his goon, and when they duck into a bodega to try to shake them, the gang’s logo is hanging above the cash register and there’s really no way to escape a confrontation.
“Is there something we can help you with?” Zhou acts stupid, which they seem to buy, but the two Ukrainian flatheads basically separate him from his goon and walk him out the door, across the street toward what looks like a shuttered business. In the basement, there’s a bunch of Russian mafia types and a lot of multiethnic local folks. It seems clear that the Slavs are selling and the locals are buying. There’s loud music playing and people are lounging around high. The dealers act like they have no idea what he’s talking about when he asks for blow, beyond an eight-ball of coke. Eventually they escalate him to a back office, a storeroom, and there’s a big dude behind a desk, obviously the boss. He won’t sell anything but a single dose, which has to be taken in the shooting gallery.
The stuff comes in a briefcase with a set of syringes. A dose seems to be about 3cc, and they’ve got a none too clean set of works. Zhou shoots up.
[This is where my notes ended — postrodent]