He’s right beside me as we head toward the entrance. None of the ticket takers is aware there’s a police operation under way, and we walk in the same way every other visitor does, by handing over tickets and pushing through the turnstile. The first exhibit I see is the flamingo lagoon, and I think of my daughter, Violet, who has witnessed the spectacle of thousands of flamingos in the wild. I feel sorry for these city children, for whom flamingos will always be represented by a dozen listless birds in a concrete pond. I get no chance to glimpse any other animals, because Detective Frost leads me straight down the walkway to the administrative building.
We wait in a conference room, which is furnished with a long teak table, a dozen comfortable chairs, and a media cart stocked with video equipment. On the walls are framed honors and awards for the Suffolk Zoo and its staff. EXCELLENCE IN DIVERSITY. EXCELLENCE IN MARKETING. MARLIN PERKINS AWARD. BEST EXHIBIT, NORTHEAST. This is their bragging room, to show visitors how distinguished an institution it is.
On the opposite wall, I see the curricula vitae of various staff members, and my eyes go straight to Dr. Oberlin’s. Forty-four years old. Bachelor of science degree, University of Vermont. Doctor of veterinary medicine, Cornell University. There is no photograph.
“This may take a while, so we have to be patient,” says Detective Frost.
“I’ve waited six years,” I tell him. “I can wait a little longer.”
Thirty-Two
At six foot three, blond with blue eyes, Dr. Gregory Oberlin bore a striking resemblance to Johnny Posthumus’s passport photo. He had the same square jaw and the same broad forehead, which was now wrinkled in puzzlement as he watched Jane press RECORD on the video camera.
“Do you really need to record this?” he asked.
“I want to have an accurate record. Plus, this frees me from having to take notes, so I can focus on the interview.” Jane smiled as she sat down. There were distracting noises in the background, animal sounds from the veterinary cages just outside Dr. Oberlin’s office, but this setting would have to do. She wanted him in familiar surroundings, where he’d be relaxed. An interview at Boston PD would almost certainly alarm him.
“I’m glad you’re following up on Debra’s death,” he said. “It’s been bothering me. A lot.”
“What about it, in particular?” asked Jane.
“An accident like that shouldn’t have happened. Debra and I worked together for years. She was not a careless person, and she knew her way around big cats. I can’t see her forgetting something as simple as latching the leopard’s night cage.”
“Dr. Rhodes says that even experienced zookeepers have done it.”
“Well, that’s true. There have been accidents in very good zoos, by veteran keepers. But Debra was the sort of person who wouldn’t leave the house without checking all the burners and making sure the windows were latched.”
“So what are you saying happened? Someone else opened the night cage?”
“That must be what you’re thinking, isn’t it? I assume that’s why you wanted to interview me.”
“Was there any reason Debra might have been careless that day?” Jane asked. “Anything that could’ve distracted her?”
“We’d broken up a few months before, but she seemed to be doing fine. I’m not aware of anything that was bothering her.”
“You told me she instigated the breakup.”
“Yes. I want children, and she didn’t. There’s no way to compromise on that issue. There were no bitter feelings between us, and I never stopped caring about her. That’s why I really need to know if we’ve missed anything.”
“If she didn’t leave the gate unlatched, then who do you think did it?”
“That’s just it, I don’t know! The staff area is out of public view, so theoretically anyone could have sneaked back there unseen.”
“Did she have enemies?”
“No.”
“A new boyfriend?”
A pause. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t sound too sure.”
“We hadn’t really talked much lately, except about issues at work. I know she was upset the day that I euthanized Kovo, but I really had no choice. We tried to keep that cat alive for as long as we could. In the end, it was cruel to let him suffer.”
“So Debra was upset about something.”
“Yes, and pissed off, too, that Kovo was going to be stuffed and mounted for some rich asshole. Especially when she found out the asshole was Jerry O’Brien.”
“You’re not a fan, I take it.”
“The man considers Africa his personal slaughterhouse. He brags about it on his radio show. So yes, she was pissed, and so am I. Part of our mission here is wildlife conservation. I’m supposed to go to Johannesburg next month, for a conference on rare species protection. And here we made a deal with the devil, all for money.”
“So you’re going to Africa,” she said. “Been there before?”
“Yes. My mother’s from Johannesburg, and we have family there.”
“What about Botswana? I’ve been thinking of going. Have you ever been?”
“Yes. You should definitely go.”
“When were you there?”
“I don’t know. Seven, eight years maybe. It’s beautiful, one of the last wild places on earth.”
She shut off the RECORD button. “Thank you. I think that’s all the information I need for now.”
He frowned. “That’s all you wanted to know?”
“If I have other questions, I’ll be in touch.”
“You will keep pursuing this, won’t you?” he said as she packed up the video camera. “It bothers me that it’s automatically dismissed as an accident.”
“At the moment, Dr. Oberlin, it’s difficult to call it anything but an accident. Everyone keeps telling me that big cats are dangerous.”
“Well, let me know what else you need from me. I’ll do everything I can to help.”
You already have, she thought as she walked out of his office, carrying the camera. Sunny weather and Saturday had brought crowds into the zoo, and she had to weave her way down the busy pathway. Now things could start to move fast. Four plainclothes officers were already on the premises, waiting for her call to arrest Oberlin. A tech team would swoop in to seize his computer and electronic files, and Maura was already collecting samples from the zoo’s Bengal tiger for the hair and fiber lab. The trap was ready to spring, and all Jane needed to deploy it was a positive ID from Millie.
By the time she walked into the administrative building’s conference room, where Frost and Millie were waiting for her, Jane felt electricity sizzling through every nerve. Like the hunter who’s sighted his prey, she could already smell her quarry’s blood in the air.
Jane connected the camera to the video monitor and turned to Millie, who stood gripping the back of a chair, her hands so tense the tendons looked ready to snap. For Jane, this was merely a hunt; for Millie, this could be the moment her nightmares ended, and she faced the video monitor like a prisoner begging for reprieve.
“Here we go,” Jane said, and pressed PLAY.
The screen flickered to life, and Dr. Oberlin appeared, frowning at the camera.
Do you really need to record this?
I want to have an accurate record. Plus, this frees me from having to take notes, so I can focus on the interview.
As the video played, Jane kept her eyes fixed on Millie. The only sound in the room was the recording of Jane’s questions, Oberlin’s responses. Millie stood rigid, hands still gripping the chair as if it were the only solid anchor in the room. She didn’t move, didn’t even seem to breathe.
“Millie?” said Jane. She pressed PAUSE, and the face of Gregory Oberlin remained frozen on screen. “Is it him? Is it Johnny?”
Millie looked at her. “No,” she whispered.
“But you saw his photo yesterday. You said it might be him.”
“I was wrong. It’s not him.” Millie’s legs crumpled bene
ath her and she sank into a chair. “It’s not Johnny.”
Her answer seemed to suck all the air out of the room. Jane had been so certain they had the killer in their trap. Now, instead of Leopard Man, it appeared they’d caught Bambi. This was her reward for gambling everything on one shaky witness with an unreliable memory.
“Jesus,” muttered Jane. “So we’re back to nothing.”
“Come on, Rizzoli,” said Frost. “She was never really sure.”
“Marquette’s already on my back about the Cape Town trip. Now this.”
“What did you expect?” said Millie. She looked up at Jane with sudden anger. “For you, it’s just a jigsaw puzzle, and you thought I had the missing piece. What if I don’t?”
“Look, we’re all tired,” said Frost, playing the mediator as always. “I think we should take a deep breath. Maybe get something to eat.”
“I did what you asked. I don’t know what else I can do for you!” said Millie. “Now I want to go home.”
Jane sighed. “Okay. I know it’s been a rough day for you. We’ll have a patrolman drive you back to Maura’s.”
“No, I mean home. To Touws River.”
“Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you. Tomorrow, we’ll review everything again. Maybe there’s something—”
“I’m done with this. I miss my family. I’m going home.” Millie shoved back the chair and stood, eyes bright with a fierceness Jane hadn’t seen in her before. This was the woman who’d survived against all odds in the bush, the woman who’d refused to kneel down and die. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Jane’s cell phone rang. “We can talk about it later.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. If you won’t get me a flight, I’ll do it myself. I’m done with this.” She walked out of the room.
“Millie, wait,” Frost said, following her into the hallway. “Let me get someone to drive you back.”
Jane reached for her ringing cell phone and snapped: “Rizzoli.”
“Sounds like this is not a good time,” said criminalist Erin Volchko.
“As a matter of fact, it’s a lousy time. But go ahead. What’s up?”
“This may or may not improve your mood. It’s about those hair samples you collected from the mounted Bengal tiger. The one in the Gott residence.”
“What about them?”
“They’re brittle and degraded, with thinning and fusion of the surface cuticle. I suspect that tiger was killed and mounted decades ago, because these hairs show changes due to age and UV radiation. That’s a problem.”
“Why?”
“The tiger hair pulled from Jodi Underwood’s bathrobe showed no signs of degradation. It’s fresh.”
“You mean, like from a live tiger?” Jane sighed. “Too bad. We just crossed the zoo veterinarian off our list.”
“You told me there were two other zoo employees in the Gott residence earlier that day, delivering the snow leopard carcass. Their clothes are probably covered with all sorts of animal hairs. Maybe they shed hairs in the house, and the killer picked it up on his clothes. Tertiary transfer could explain how tiger hair got onto Jodi’s bathrobe.”
“So we could still be talking about the same killer, both murders.”
“Yes. Is that good news or bad?”
“I don’t know.” Jane hung up with a sigh. I don’t have a freaking clue how it all fits together. In frustration she unplugged the video camera from the monitor, coiled up the cables, and shoved everything into the carrying case. She thought about the questions she’d face at tomorrow’s case conference, and how to defend her decisions, not to mention her expenses. Crowe would pick at her bones like the vulture he was, and what was she going to say?
At least I got a trip to Cape Town out of it.
She rolled the media cart back to the side of the room where she’d found it and shoved it against the wall. Paused as something on that wall caught her eye. Hanging there were the names and qualifications of the Suffolk Zoo’s staff. Dr. Mikovitz, the veterinarians, and the various experts in birds, primates, amphibians, and large mammals. It was Alan Rhodes’s curriculum vitae that she focused on.
DR. ALAN T. RHODES.
BACHELOR OF SCIENCE, CURRY COLLEGE. PHD, TUFTS UNIVERSITY.
Natalie Toombs had also attended Curry College.
Alan Rhodes would have been a senior student the year Natalie vanished. She’d left her house to go on a study date with a man named Ted, and was never seen again. Until fourteen years later, when her bones turned up wrapped in a tarp, the ankles bound with orange nylon cord.
Jane dashed out of the conference room and bounded up the stairs to the zoo’s administrative offices.
The secretary glanced up with an arched eyebrow as Jane burst into the room. “If you’re looking for Dr. Mikovitz, he left for the afternoon.”
“Where’s Dr. Rhodes?” Jane asked.
“I can give you his cell phone number.” The secretary opened her drawer and pulled out the zoo directory. “Just let me look it up.”
“No, I want to know where he is. Is he still here at work?”
“Yes. He’s probably over at the tiger enclosure. That’s where they arranged to meet.”
“Meet?”
“That woman from the medical examiner’s office. She wanted tiger hair for some study she’s doing.”
“Oh God,” said Jane. Maura.
Thirty-Three
“He’s such a beauty,” said Maura, staring into the enclosure.
From the other side of the bars, the Bengal tiger stared back, his tail flicking. Camouflaged perfectly, he was almost invisible except for those alert eyes peering through the grass, and the sinuously waving tail.
“Now, this is a true man-eater,” said Alan Rhodes. “There are only a few thousand of them left in the world. We’ve encroached so deeply into their habitat, it’s inevitable they sometimes take a few people down. When you look at this cat, you can see why hunters prize them so much. Not just for the pelt, but for the challenge of defeating such a formidable predator. It’s perverse, isn’t it? How we humans want to kill the animals we most admire?”
“I’m perfectly happy to admire him from afar.”
“Oh, we won’t need to get any closer. Like any cat, he sheds plenty of hair.” He looked at her. “So why do you need it?”
“It’s for forensic analysis. The lab needs a sample of Bengal tiger hair, and I just happened to know someone with access to it. Thank you for this, by the way.”
“Is this for a criminal case? It’s not something to do with Greg Oberlin, is it?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about it. You understand.”
“Of course. The curiosity’s killing me, but you have a job to do. So let’s go around to the staff entrance. You should be able to find hair in his night cage. Unless you were expecting to pluck it straight off his back. In which case, Doc, you are on your own.”
She laughed. “No, hair that’s recently been shed will be fine.”
“That’s a relief, because you definitely don’t want to go near this fellow. He’s five hundred pounds of muscle and teeth.”
Rhodes led her down a path marked STAFF ONLY. Hidden from the public eye by thick plantings, the employee walkway cut like a canyon between the walls of the neighboring tiger and cougar enclosures. Those walls blocked any view of the animals, but Maura could almost feel their power radiating through the concrete, and she wondered if the cats could sense her presence as well. Wondered if they were even now tracking her progress. Though Rhodes seemed perfectly at ease, she kept glancing up at the walls, half expecting to see a pair of yellow eyes peering down at her.
They reached the rear entrance to the tiger enclosure, and Rhodes unlocked the gate. “I can bring you through, into the night cage. Or you can wait out here and I’ll collect the hair samples for you.”
“I need to do this myself. It’s for chain of custody.”
He stepped inside the enclosure and unlatched the inner gate to t
he night room. “All yours. The cage hasn’t been cleaned yet, so you should find plenty of hair. I’ll wait outside.”
Maura entered the night cage. It was an indoor space, about twelve feet square, with a built-in waterer and a concrete ledge for sleeping. A tree log in the corner bore savage gashes where the animal had sharpened his claws, a stark reminder of the tiger’s power. Crouching over the log, she remembered the parallel lacerations on Leon Gott’s body, so similar to these. A tuft of animal hair clung to the log, and she reached into her pocket for tweezers and evidence bags.
Her cell phone rang.
She let the call go to voice mail and focused on her task. She plucked the first sample, sealed it, and scanned the room. Spotted more hairs on the concrete sleeping ledge.
The phone rang again.
Even as she collected the second sample, the phone kept ringing, shrill and urgent, refusing to be ignored. She sealed the hair in a separate bag and reached for her cell phone. She’d barely managed to say “Hello” when Jane’s voice cut in.
“Where are you?”
“I’m collecting tiger hair.”
“Is Dr. Rhodes with you?”
“He’s waiting right outside the cage. Do you need to talk to him?”
“No. Listen to me. I need you to get away from him.”
“What? Why?”
“Stay calm, stay friendly. Don’t let him know there’s anything wrong.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m heading your way now, and I’ve called the rest of the team to meet us. We’ll be there in a few minutes, tops. Just get away from Rhodes.”
“Jane—”
“Do it, Maura!”
“Okay. Okay.” She took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm her. As she ended the call, her hands were unsteady. She looked down at the evidence bag she was holding. She thought of Jodi Underwood and the strand of tiger hair clinging to her blue robe. Hair that was transferred from her attacker. An attacker who worked with big cats, who knew how they hunted and how they killed.