Did Not Survive (8 page)

Berchtold shook his head. “Elephants have almost total control over their bodies. They hardly ever put a foot wrong or misjudge how much pressure to apply.” He looked at Ian and back to me. “You're, what, a bird keeper, right? No elephant experience? It must have looked pretty bad. But she didn't actually hurt him.”

“Yeah, it looked bad.” I was supposed to feel forgiven for getting it wrong, but I was still too stunned.

Mr. Crandall caught Sam's eye and they spoke softly. The NAZ committee conferred among themselves. The detective looked mournful and patient. The two officers behind him muttered to one another.

Another thought came to me, something that had bothered me two mornings running. I hesitated. The pause as each team accommodated the new information and regrouped was long enough for me to find my courage. I was already cast as the village idiot. I didn't have much to lose. “Sam, how well does Damrey see?”

Instead of Sam, the committee turned to Dr. Reynolds. “Her vision is not good. I'm keeping an eye on it.” She added a lot of optical technicalities that I did not follow.

Dr. Morgan said, “We should have started with the health exam. Let's take a look at her eyes.”

That was complicated. Dr. Reynolds sent Kayla off for equipment. Sam herded us all out into the visitor area and told us to stand well back. He and Ian and Dr. Morgan remained inside with Dr. Reynolds. I stood by myself, trying to wrap my mind around a whole new interpretation of what I'd seen that traumatic morning. I felt lightheaded and vague. Goji berries exhumed from my pocket helped. Mr. Crandall talked quietly with the police. Kayla came back panting, handed Dr. Reynolds a traditional black bag, and joined us in the visitor area.

Sam opened the door to let the cows into the front stall. Damrey walked from one end to the other, trunk waving around. Sam began sweet-talking and handing her apple chunks through the bars. She calmed down and started paying attention, nudging Nakri aside to claim the treats. Ian took Nakri to the other end of the stall for her own quality time.

Damrey was not keen on the vets messing with her, but Sam talked her into it by tugging on her ear, more fruit, and a little help from the ankus. Sam and the vets worked from the people side of the bars, but they were well within trunk range, and Damrey could have eliminated all of them if she'd wanted to. Instead, she stood reasonably still while the docs shone lights into her eyes at great length, and I realized how much intestinal fortitude it sometimes took to be a zoo vet. Not to mention an elephant keeper. When they stood back, Sam slapped Damrey gently on the trunk and let her retreat to the outside yard again.

We reconvened inside. Dr. Reynolds said, “To simplify, the retinal deterioration has progressed rapidly since I examined her a month ago. Damrey is now essentially blind. There is no treatment, but obviously she can function well enough in a familiar setting using touch, smell, and hearing.”

Sam turned in triumph to the detective. “She couldn't have scored two direct hits on the top of his head. She couldn't see him.”

That explained her groping for her raisins instead of zeroing in as Nakri had. Perhaps it also accounted for her “fussiness.” She wanted consistency so she knew what to expect and how to behave. Her control as she fumbled around at Wallace's unconscious body was even more amazing.

The detective said, “What about the other one? Can she see or are they both blind?”

That didn't seem relevant to me, but the committee wanted an answer also. We surplus participants retreated to the work room while Nakri was examined. Her vision passed muster.

Quintana put me on the witness stand again. With both cows shut out, Sam and Ian did a quick bit of housekeeping in the front stall, then Ian played dead, lying on the floor where I'd seen Wallace. Sam set the door the way it was that morning, the committee stood in Nakri's stall, and I described how she'd gone to her knees trying to reach him. The detective refused to rule out the possibility entirely, but none of the zoo staff or committee could take either elephant seriously as the aggressor.

Detective Quintana's sagging face grew even longer. Disappointment resonated in his deep voice. “Okay, folks. What you're telling me is that neither of these elephants killed Kevin Wallace. Some party or parties unknown, presumably human and not an orangutan, came into this elephant barn and attacked him inside the stall. The attacker hit him twice with the ankus thing. One blow brought him to his knees and the other, even stronger, finished him off. Or it could be that he was jumped outside the bars and hauled or shoved in there.” He shook his head. “One way or another, I now have a homicide scene that's had two elephants loose in it for five days. Folks, this isn't going to be easy.”

Chapter Seven

The committee was done with me. I was shooed back to my job while they conferred and debated and speculated with the police. Calvin had somehow missed hearing about Wallace's death. I broke the news.

“Wallace dead. Well.” He spread his short, thick fingers on the table, as though bracing himself. “I worked with him a long time. Can't say I liked him, but still…” He and Wallace had a long and troubled history, but his dismay seemed genuine, and I was struck anew by his decency. He was as amazed as I was that Damrey was exonerated. “Guess I should of trusted Sam. I thought he was letting his heart run away with his head. Teach me to jump to judgment.”

It had seemed disrespectful to eat while I told him the bad news. Done, I wolfed down the sandwich I'd brought from home.

He said, “This is a bad situation, not knowing who killed him. It's a shame you're pregnant. You might be a good person to sort this out. You got a sharp eye.”

“Calvin, I'm the one who got it wrong in the first place. But I'm with you—I'd like to know who left him to die and set up Damrey to take the blame.”

“Yeah, that was a raw deal. In the old days, she probably would of been shot by now. This whole thing put Sam through the wringer. Now we all get to go through it.” He stood up. “When you're done, let's see if we can patch that aviary fence. I found a big hole this morning.”

I put my trash in the garbage can and pulled open the drawer with leather gloves and pliers. “Calvin? Being pregnant is not like nine months of polio or a broken leg. Really.”

He snorted a chuckle. “Wait till you try to bend over and tie your shoe laces in another month. We'll see what you say then.”

At the aviary, Calvin squatted, knees cracking, and held out duck food to the nenes—Hawaiian geese—and the little Hottentot teals. The pair of nenes came right up and argued with each other as they gobbled from his hand. They would never eat from my hand, but I chose to believe that they were put off by my face mask and gloves, even after five months, rather than that they simply preferred Calvin. The nenes and I related much as Sam and Ian did, and the little teals were cool to me. My feelings were hurt, but I knew they would like me better on Calvin's day off when I was the only option for special treats.

We'd been struggling with the fencing for half an hour, Calvin muttering about Birds always getting the short end of the budget, when Dr. Reynolds dropped by. She watched for a moment, then said, “Iris, could you drop by my office before you leave for the day? I'd like to discuss the elephant research for a few minutes.”

What was so special about the research that she couldn't tell me in front of Calvin? He and I exchanged a glance. Something to do with Wallace.

“Sure thing,” I said.

Calvin and I did our best on the aging mesh, then made the afternoon rounds of feeding, watering, and tidying. I filled out the end-of-day reports while Calvin scrubbed the sinks. He would probably clean the Penguinarium with a toothbrush if that meant he didn't have to do the reports. Wallace had promised us computers, no more pencil and paper, but we hadn't seen them yet.

“Gol-darn it,” he said. “Forgot my medicine this morning. Too much going on.” He rummaged in the people-food refrigerator and found a little glass jar. Thick fingers pulled out little tan lumps.

“Looks like deer droppings.”

He was unfazed. “Golden raisins soaked in gin. Supposed to be magic for arthritis. Maybe help my knees.”

I'd thought of Calvin as another Mr. Crandall—ageless, permanent. He was a sturdy guy, in physique and in health, but apparently not exempt from getting older, and someday he would retire. I put the thought away. I had enough real changes to worry about.

I left ten minutes before quitting time and walked through departing clots of school groups shepherded by burnt-out teachers trying to survive until summer vacation started. It was Wednesday, my Friday, and I was tired, hungry, apprehensive, and more than ready for a couple of days off. I hoped whatever Dr. Reynolds had on her mind wouldn't take long. Marcie was cooking dinner for me and Denny. I craved a shower, clean clothes, and a break from zoo disasters.

Dr. Reynolds closed the door after me and waved me to a guest chair in front of her desk. She sat behind tidy stacks of books and papers and chewed on her lower lip for a moment. A little centrifuge whirred in the corner. I was impressed once again that this slender woman, a few years older than myself, was managing the health of every animal in the zoo. I suspected she wore a lab coat more to convey her role to skeptics than to protect her clothes.

She flipped stray hair over her shoulder. Her tone was brisk. “Iris, the situation is different now. The police are treating Kevin's death as a homicide, but they are working under difficult circumstances. They have pictures of the original scene, but the stall has been scrubbed several times since then, and of course the elephants trampled everything in their normal activity. They tried a chemical called Luminal to see if they could bring up residual blood smears, but it isn't working properly because elephant stool and the cleaners mask the effect. It's a tough situation.”

“I'd hate to see whoever did this get away with it.”

She nodded. “No motive has been found, and no one has any idea why Kevin was at the barn so early in the morning. It wasn't typical for him to be there at that hour or to enter the stall without Sam or Ian around.”

I didn't disagree out loud, but I wondered. Ian had implied differently.

“Iris, this is another reason I'm glad you're continuing the research project. I'd like you to keep an eye out for anything unusual, anything that might explain the…attack. The keepers will talk to you more than they will to the police or a committee or to me. You know everyone and you know where the bodies are buried—sorry, poor choice of words—and might find out something that no one else will have a chance to discover.”

My apprehension was justified. First Calvin, now Dr. Reynolds. Where was this notion coming from? “I wish it were true that people will spill to me, but I really don't think it is.”

“You picked up on Damrey's vision problems right away.”

That didn't seem particularly relevant.

“Iris, Kevin said he'd seen someone sneaking away from the barn early in the morning. That was a day before the accident. It was only a glimpse. Perhaps you could find out who it was.”

This was news. “Did you tell the police?”

“Yes, of course, the same day as the attack. They said they hadn't found anything when I reminded them today.” She wound a wisp of hair around her index finger and frowned.

My shoulder twitched. She had this plan in mind when she first asked me to take on Kayla's task. She and Sam had separately manipulated me into the barn, each for their own reason. “I'll keep my eyes open. That's all I can do.”

Stress lines around her eyes relaxed a little. “I appreciate your help very much.”

“I'm sorry for your loss,” I said, awkwardly parroting Dr. Rassmussen.

Dr. Reynolds leaned back. She rotated her office chair to look out the window at leafy branches and a scrap of cloudy sky. Her voice softened. “It wasn't the same, I think, as when you lost your husband. We weren't very far along—a few dinners and a lecture or two—and I don't think it would have gone anywhere, not in the long run. Still, it was nice to be noticed. We agreed it was best to keep it undercover. I liked him, but I suspect he was more optimistic about us than I was. Who knows…”

I said, “He was…cheerful the last few months. He seemed happy. And…it sounds like he didn't suffer. At the end.”

“Yes. I think that is true.”

We sat in silence for a moment. I said, “I should have visited him in the hospital. I should have thanked him for not firing me when I was screwing up after Rick died. He was cranky and fussy, but he was fair. I think he was good at his job.”

She turned back to me and shook her head. “The hospital wouldn't let anyone but family in.” She looked out the window again. “I don't know a soul here except Kayla, and I'm coming off a bad divorce. As if there ever was a good one. He was fun to be with.” A wry smile.

She'd known a different Wallace than I had. “He had a few failed relationships of his own. Not entirely his fault.” Impulsively, I added, “I hope you stay.”

She smiled. “I'd like to. The salary here is dismal. I'd buy a house if I could.”

I understood that one. Rick's life insurance was all that made my home ownership possible.

“Iris, I hope you and Kayla get along. She doesn't know anyone here either. I seem to feel responsible since I recruited her to come work here. Of course, she's very social.”

Another request? “She seems good at her job. And fun. People like her. I wouldn't worry.”

The vet nodded and fell into silence, staring out the window again. After a moment, still looking away, “Kevin liked you. You were tough to manage, but a good zoo keeper. That's what he said. He felt that your husband's death was the worst thing that had happened in all his years at the zoo.”

I was blind-sided and unable to speak.

Dr. Reynolds turned her chair back to face me. The narrow, serious face was transformed, predatory. “A killer broke into our zoo. We don't know who it is or whether it will happen again. Let's figure this out. Let's get whoever did this to Kevin.”