The Best American Mystery Stories 2016

  “I have, here and in Africa.”

  “And what do you think of them?”

  “I hardly know. They seem like a joke the devil played on mankind. A satire.”

  “Hmm. I think they are more likely a rough draft, if I may call it that. The Bible tells us God made animals before man, after all. I have worked on almost a dozen of them over the years, trying to improve their brains.”

  “With what goal, professor? To turn them into men?”

  “No, my friend. That would be neither possible nor moral. But if I can improve their ability to think, imagine what I can do for the feeble-minded children!”

  I heard a chair scrape back. “That is the most fantastic scheme I have ever heard! Has there been any success?”

  “Ah! There has indeed. The latest subject has been a marvel. Come with me, my friend, and you can meet my greatest triumph. He lives in my courtyard.”

  I heard them coming so I backed away from the door.

  The sailor was big, higher and wider than Professor or his servants. He had fur all around his face, and where there wasn’t fur his skin was red.

  He stared at me, eyes and mouth wide.

  “Jupiter, this is my guest, Goujon. Goujon, let me introduce you to Jupiter.”

  I am happy to meet you.

  “What is it doing?” said Goujon quietly. I smelled his fear.

  “The gestures? That is how Jupiter speaks. You will notice I sign while I speak to him. What is it, Jupiter?”

  Is he the sailor?

  “Yes, the boat man. Boat man. You see, Goujon, he invented this combination of signs to mean sailor when he heard you were coming.”

  “This is amazing, professor! I wouldn’t have believed it possible. How long have you had him?”

  “I purchased him almost three years ago. He was a baby and hunters had killed his mother. He is by far the brightest and most trainable subject I have been lucky enough to encounter.”

  Goujon said more and I got angry. He backed up, toward the door.

  “What is it?” Professor asked me. “What is the problem?”

  Can not understand.

  “Oh. The sailor has an accent. He learned to speak far from my home. I am sorry, Goujon. Jupiter gets frustrated when he can’t understand what is said to him.”

  The sailor looked at me. His face changed. “You know what? So do I.”

  Professor made the playing sound. “Ah, very good!”

  “Could you teach me to sign, professor? I would like to speak with your amazing friend.”

  It was exciting to be teaching instead of learning.

  The sailor came every day. He would say a word and I would show him the sign, then he would copy it.

  Professor sat and watched. He helped when I could not understand, or when there was a word there was no sign for.

  “Gold,” said Goujon.

  What is that?

  “Ah!” Professor said. “It’s a metal, Jupiter, like iron, but yellow and heavier. It shines. How about this for a sign? Yellow metal.”

  “You leave out the most important thing about gold, professor,” said Goujon. “It is valuable.”

  What is that?

  “Valuable? You can get things with it. Here.” Professor pulled flat metal things from his pocket and handed them to me. “These are coins. Here’s a sign for coin, yes? I give these to the fruit man and he gives me fruit. Then he can give them to, say, the fish man, and get a fish.”

  Are they gold?

  “No, Jupiter. Gold coins are very valuable. That means you would have to trade a lot to get them.”

  “Or trade something very valuable,” said Goujon.

  One day the sailor told us he would be leaving soon. A boat had come that would take him and the things his uncle wanted away. After that he kept coming over, but not for lessons. I heard him and Professor talking. They sounded angry.

  “You can find another one. My God! With the money he would fetch in France you could hire armies to hunt the deep woods for them.”

  “What do you think he is, a circus act? This is a great experiment. My greatest! I may never find another I can train so well. And when he starts to decline I will examine his brain and see how my chemicals altered it. Then I can apply what I learned to the children—”

  “That’s another thing. Do you think anyone, any civilized country would let you cut up people the way you have done with that thing in there? That is madness.”

  “Get out of my house! You are not welcome here! Go back to France, or to the devil!”

  After a few minutes Professor came into my room. “How are you, my friend?”

  Well. Where is the sailor?

  “Ah. He is gone. He is going home. I am sorry he couldn’t come to say goodbye to you. Did you like him, Jupiter?”

  I liked teaching him.

  Two sleeps later and I woke, hearing screams and smelling blood.

  I screamed too.

  I left my nest and climbed to the top of the tallest tree. I heard more screams. Professor’s helpers were running away from the house.

  The door opened and the sailor ran in. “Jupiter! Where are you? Come down!”

  I stayed in the branches.

  “Jupiter! The hunters are here! The professor says I must take you away or they will kill you. Hurry!”

  I came down and followed him out of the house, the first time I was outside since I was a baby.

  There was a cart at the door with many men. I screamed and tried to back away, but Goujon was behind me. “It’s all right, Jupiter. They are my friends. They will help us get away from the hunters. Climb into the cart.”

  I did, but Goujon did not. The door closed and I saw that the walls were bars, like the top of my room. I screamed.

  “Shut the brute up!” said one of Goujon’s friends.

  “Let him prattle. Go!”

  I could smell animals I had only had hints of before. Those must be horses, I thought. Professor had shown me pictures of horses pulling carts.

  And then there were so many smells and sights that nothing made sense.

  There were many sleeps on the boat. I was never out of the box of bars and I was too sick to eat. No one came except Goujon.

  “How are you, Jupiter?”

  Sick. Where is this?

  “We are going to France. That is where the professor was born.”

  Where is Professor?

  “He died. The hunters killed him.”

  Is he in the dead house?

  “The dead house? I suppose he is. But don’t worry. You will be safe from the hunters in France. There are many people there who will want to see you. No one has ever seen an Ourang-Outang who could talk before! They will pay a fortune.”

  What is that?

  Goujon called the place where we lived a barn and a house. It did not look like Professor’s house. It was dark and cold and there were no trees to sleep in.

  Trees wouldn’t have mattered, because he did not let me out of the box.

  Two sleeps after we arrived Goujon came in, excited. “Good news, Jupiter! Some professors from the university want to meet you.”

  Professor is dead.

  “Yes, yes, but these are other men like him. You will sign for them and they will want you to come live with them in a beautiful house full of trees and fruit and people. You will be famous, Jupiter!”

  What is that?

  As usual, he didn’t answer.

  I heard the professors arrive. I was excited to meet them. Perhaps they would be my friends like Professor was.

  But I heard Goujon talking on the way up the stairs. “The man who trained him was mad, gentlemen, quite mad. He wanted to experiment on children! I don’t pretend to understand what he did to this poor beast. The scars on his head have healed. But we had to stop the professor before he engaged in more such crimes. I’m afraid he fought to the death.”

  Then I knew how Professor died.

  Goujon entered the room with two other men.
They had white fur like Professor and one wore circles that made his eyes look big. They stared at me.

  “He can’t speak, gentlemen,” said Goujon. “You will have to learn the signs he uses, but it is not hard. Even I can do it. Jupiter!” He started signing. “Here are two new friends for you. Say hello.”

  I looked at them.

  “Come, Jupiter,” said Goujon. “Show them the sign for your name. Or for sailor! You created that yourself. Boat man! Remember?”

  I hooted.

  “He’s a fine specimen,” said the man with the circles. “The Jardin des Plantes would be pleased to have him, but not at the price you are asking.”

  “He’s not a zoo animal,” said Goujon. “He can talk! Or sign, anyway. Ask him about life in Borneo.”

  The younger man came closer to my box. “Oh, why not? We’ve come this far. Jupiter, my name is Pierre. Are you hungry?”

  I said nothing. I did nothing. Soon they left.

  Goujon was angry. “What was that for, you brute? They would have taken good care of you!”

  You killed Professor.

  He backed away. “How—? Oh. You heard what I told them. I didn’t mean that, Jupiter. It was just . . . just . . . Well, they wouldn’t have understood about the hunters.”

  You killed Professor.

  He made the playing sound. “I’m afraid your evidence would not hold up in a court, even if you knew what a court was. You don’t want to set a quarrel with me, Jupiter. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner you can live with someone you prefer.”

  I will not help you.

  “No? We will see about that.”

  He took the lamp and left.

  Two sleeps passed. I had no food. No one cleaned my box.

  On the third morning Goujon came in with a basket of fruit. “Are you ready to be sensible, Jupiter?”

  You killed Professor. I will not help you. He waved his arms. “If you starve to death it won’t help anyone! The professor is dead, Jupiter. What do you want?”

  Home.

  “Where do you think that is, exactly? You think you can go back to the professor’s house and live there again? Will the Dyaks bring you food and clean up your mess? You could never survive in the forests. In the name of the good god, let me help you.”

  What is that?

  He didn’t answer. He took the food away.

  The next morning Goujon came back with more fruit. “Don’t eat so fast. You’ll get sick.”

  When I was done he said, “All right. You want to go back to Borneo, do you? Very well. It will take money.”

  What is that?

  “Money? The professor told you about that the first time I met you. Remember? Gold coins?”

  Why do I need them?

  “Because the captain—the big boat man—won’t take you to Borneo without them. Now, my uncle keeps an eye on all the important things that happen here in Paris, and he knows of a caper that is perfect for us.”

  What is that?

  Goujon said his uncle knew of an old woman, a fortuneteller, who was going to buy a shop. I didn’t know what most of those words meant, but Goujon just waved a hand.

  “Never mind. All that matters is this: on Friday she will have a big bag full of gold coins in her house. If we get them there will be enough to send you back to your Malayan hellhole and for me to live here for many years.”

  He told me that the woman was a mama and her child lived with her, but the child was grown. They lived on the fourth floor of a house.

  “My uncle says there is no way to get into the building but through a window on the fourth floor that can be entered from the yard; I have seen it and you could do it easily.” He made the playing sound. “Easy as climbing a tree.”

  That night he let me out of the cage. We went outside, where he had a closed wagon waiting. Two horses pulled it. The man in front was so frightened I could barely smell the horses.

  “Come inside, Jupiter,” said Goujon.

  I didn’t want to. It was dark and small and the air was cold.

  “If you run away, you will never get home. Do you understand that? You can’t get home except by boat, and only I know which boats go there.”

  I will go.

  Goujon turned to the driver. “Rue Morgue. Jupiter, what’s wrong? Calm down.”

  Why are we going to the dead house?

  “The dead . . . the morgue? No, Morgue is just the name of the street. We won’t be going to the morgue at all. Just calm down and get in the carriage. Please.”

  We traveled through the place Goujon called Paris, although sometimes he called it France. The windows were shuttered but I could hear and smell. It was like the boat ride; too much to remember.

  The house where the woman lived was not the dead house. Goujon told me the dead house was far away and I shouldn’t think about it.

  This house was bigger than Professor’s had been.

  “The door is always locked.”

  What is that?

  “Locked? Closed so no one can get in. Like your cage or your room back in the professor’s house in Borneo.” He led me to a yard at the rear of the building. “Look at the windows on the top floor. The woman lives there with her daughter. Could you get in?”

  I looked up at it and felt happy. I had never been able to climb so high.

  I can.

  “Are you sure, Jupiter?”

  I can. Now.

  Goujon put a hand on my arm. “Not now. She will not have the coins until the end of the week. Let’s go back home.”

  I pulled my arm away. Practice.

  “Practice? That makes sense. But not here.” He leaned out of the box and spoke to the man who helped the horses.

  “We will go to an empty building I know. You can climb there without being seen.”

  We went. The building was not as tall as the one where the woman lived, but it was still wonderfully high. I stretched out my arms and began to pull myself up the outer walls.

  I felt my heart beating. I had done nothing like this in my life. I had only climbed the trees and walls in Professor’s house. I never wanted to stop. I swung from one piece of wall to another. Swung again and caught a window with my leg. I could have gone on forever.

  Goujon yelled, “Jupiter! We have to get going! It will be morning soon.”

  I wanted to ignore him. He said we were going home, but where was home? The cage?

  “Jupiter! There’s no food here. If you don’t come with me, you will never get back to Borneo!”

  He was right. I climbed to the top once more and then rushed all the way to the street beside him.

  Goujon’s face changed. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

  Yes.

  “It was very cruel of that professor to keep you locked up like that. Jupiter, what’s wrong?”

  I never thought Professor was cruel to lock me up. Why didn’t he let me climb the trees outside his house?

  I got in the wagon. When we went into the house Goujon said, “I won’t ask you to get in that cage again, Jupiter. We have to trust each other, yes?”

  Yes.

  Each night Goujon took me out to practice at a different empty building.

  “That metal tree is a lightning rod, Jupiter. There is one on the roof of the fortuneteller’s house, near the chimney. It is much higher. Can you climb it? Yes? Very good!”

  I enjoyed the practice so much I did not want it to end, but on the third night Goujon said, “I think you are ready, Jupiter. Tomorrow the old woman will buy another house. So tonight we must move, eh?”

  Yes.

  I didn’t know why the old woman wanted another house. But I was sure she didn’t need it as much as I needed to go home.

  When the carriage arrived, the street was empty and silent. I could hear that no one moved inside. I could smell how nervous Goujon was.

  “Ready, Jupiter?” he whispered. “Excellent, excellent. I will be down here waiting. I’m sure the women are asleep by now.”

&nb
sp; I climbed the tall lightning rod. It was easy. The shutter was open against the wall. I grabbed it with both hands and swung across to the open window. That was easy too.

  Inside the room was one bed, the kind Goujon sleeps on, the head against the window. I squeezed through the window and landed on the bed.

  The old woman sat in a chair beside the bed, a metal box full of papers on the table beside her, and she slept. Her eyes were closed, and she growled.

  I crept to her. The bags of gold coins Goujon described were lying on the table beside her. I tried to pull one but there were strings on it, and they were wrapped around her wrist.

  She growled again. What could I do?

  I went back to the bed and stuck my head out the window. I tried to sign my problem, but Goujon didn’t understand. Finally he climbed up the pole, badly, and reached the top.

  I crawled out the window, hanging on to the sill, and when our heads were as close together as they could get he looked up at me and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

  Woman asleep. Bags tied to hand.

  Goujon took one hand off the pole and almost fell. He pulled something from his pocket and held it up to me. “Razor. You know how to open it?”

  Yes. I had seen him shave.

  I reached down to take it. I opened the razor and made sure I knew how to hold it. Then I crept back to the woman. I took hold of the first string and started cutting. The woman kept growling.

  I caught the bag so it didn’t make a sound. I put it on the floor. Then I started to cut the other string.

  I heard a door close. A young woman had come in. Her back was to me and she was doing something to the door.

  What could I do?

  She turned and saw me. She screamed.

  The old woman woke. She saw me and screamed.

  Now I was scared. I wanted to scream too.

  Before I could back away the old woman hit me in the face. Then she grabbed me by my fur. I tried to push her away, but the razor caught her in the throat. Her eyes went wide and blood squirted out, poured down.

  I smelled blood. I was scared. I dropped the razor and jumped back. The old woman fell to the floor.

  The daughter screamed louder than ever.

  Outside from below the window I heard Goujon shouting, “My God! You devil! What have you done?”