She stayed in 309, and it turned out to be down on the left. Goddamn, he hated the number of her apartment. He didn’t like threes or nines in sequences. Four-oh-two was a good number. Eight-oh-four. Two-twenty-four. He was a divisible-by-two guy. He didn’t like threes, fives, or nines. Seven was okay, he thought as he came to stand at her door, but only because two together equaled fourteen. Thirteen was the bane of his existence.