Monkey Business

by Lois Schmitt

  “The shipment of boa constrictors entered the country under a legal permit. An inspector for the United States Fish and Wildlife Service, performing a routine verification, noticed more than half the snakes were dead on arrival and several others bleeding from both ends. Suspecting drugs, the inspector contacted the Drug Enforcement Agency for further investigation. X-rays revealed foreign objects inside the snakes.

  “Each snake contained a minimum of two drug-filled condoms. The packets were surgically removed, resulting in the seizure of more than one hundred pounds of cocaine.

  “A spokesperson for the Fish and Wildlife Service stated, ‘This is not the first instance of illegal drugs hidden inside animals. Most people fear snakes, even nonvenomous ones, so drug lords stuff packages inside legal snake shipments because they think inspectors are reluctant to examine snakes too closely.’ ”

  Although this press release didn’t involve the smuggling of endangered species, the connection between Fish and Wildlife and the Drug Enforcement Agency fascinated me, and I hoped to tie it together in my article. But that was for another day. After shutting down my computer, I decided to see if I could find out more about the names and numbers in Mei’s diary. I phoned my brother.

  “How’s it going, Tim?”

  “Terribly. No one will tell me anything. Not even Saul. Everyone must think I’m the one who killed Mei.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true. But maybe we can find out who is responsible. Do you know anyone at the zoo named Max, Myra, Scott, or Tory?”

  “Nope. And I know just about everyone here.”

  We talked a few more minutes. Tim told me he’d been called into police headquarters and interrogated again by Detective Wolfe. Tim’s attorney, Stan Margolis, had been present.

  It started off as a typical Sunday evening. Matt sat glued to the television, watching the Seattle Mariners clobber the New York Yankees. Dressed in my pajamas, I was debating whether to tackle a crossword puzzle or settle down with my mystery anthology when Abby barged through the door with Jason close behind her.

  Jason stared at my fuzzy bunny slippers. “I told Abby to call first, Mrs. Farrell, but she assured me that popping in was no problem.”

  “It’s fine, Jason,” I said weakly. “What’s up?”

  “Jason needs a break, so we’re on our way to a movie,” Abby said. “But I wanted to bounce an idea off you first. Actually, it was Jason’s idea.”

  They made a cute couple. A former college basketball player, Jason was tall and athletic-looking with dark brown hair.

  “Remember when I sent Rocky Cove’s annual reports to my purchasing agent friend at the New Jersey zoo, Mom?”

  “Of course. Did he get back to you yet?”

  “I heard from him this morning. He couldn’t find any financial shenanigans. But that started me thinking. We only checked annual spending for individual departments. We never looked into capital projects like the new rain forest. To build the rain forest, the zoo had to deal with architects, engineering firms, and construction companies. What if that involved kickbacks?”

  Abby handed me the stack of annual reports. “I’m returning these to you. The corporations involved in the rain forest development are listed in the back of last year’s report. Maybe you can come up with something.” After glancing at her watch, she turned to Jason. “We better go if we want to make the movie.” She grinned at me. “Nice slippers, Mom.”

  Once they left, I scanned the last annual report, discovering three corporations, all located on Long Island, who worked on the rain forest project—Pharrel Architects, Wantag Engineering, and Orville Construction. Then I thought about the four names in Mei’s journal. Could they be associated with these businesses?

  I grabbed the phone and punched in my brother’s number.

  “Remember the other night when I mentioned Max, Myra, Scott, and Tory?” I said.

  “And hello to you too. Yes, I remember.”

  “Could they be connected to Pharrel Architects, Wantag Engineering, or Orville Construction?”

  “Those are the corporations that designed and built the rain forest.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Sorry, Kristy. I’ve no idea if there’s a connection.”

  “Who would?”

  “Saul handled most of the details. He might know.”

  Saul Mandel was a suspect, so I couldn’t question him without putting him on alert. “Anyone else?”

  “McKenzie, of course. He would have attended meetings with corporate reps. But since he’s dead, that won’t help.”

  Somehow, I needed to find out if the list of names in Mei’s journal had anything to do with the corporations involved in developing the rain forest.

  Yawning, I realized I was too tired to hatch a scheme tonight. I wandered into the den as the Yankee game ended with the Mariners winning twelve-to-three. Matt grumbled about bad calls from the umpires and began channel surfing.

  The next moment, an image on a commercial flashed across the screen. Matt flipped to another station, but I’d seen enough to jog my memory.

  The commercial featured a Long Island wedding caterer. It reminded me of the receptionist at the Rocky Cove Zoo. She was the one who had kept me waiting while she chatted on the phone about a bridal shower.

  Anyone from Pharrel Architects, Wantag Engineering, or Orville Construction, anyone who had an appointment with Arlen McKenzie, would have signed the visitor’s log at the front desk. The receptionist would be aware if one of the signatures was a Max, Myra, Scott, or Tory, especially if that person met frequently with McKenzie.

  I needed to find out what the receptionist knew.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “Larger crowds than at a Manhattan sample sale,” I grumbled as I circled the zoo’s parking lot and looked for a spot. I wondered how many people visited here out of morbid curiosity. Two murders, both front-page news, proving bad publicity is still publicity.

  On my way, I had stopped at a local craft shop and purchased a magazine, hoping it would do the trick. Entering the administration building, I proceeded to the receptionist’s desk.

  “We need to call those who haven’t responded to the shower and find out if they’re coming,” the receptionist said into the phone.

  She hadn’t held the shower yet. That’s what I’d hoped. With a smile, I stood by her desk.

  The receptionist looked up, scrunching her nose as if she’d entered a room where Brussels sprouts were cooking. “Hold on, Agnes.” She slapped her hand over the phone. “May I help you?”

  “The few times I’ve been here, I’ve overheard you talking about a bridal shower.” I pulled out the arts and crafts publication I’d purchased earlier. “Here’s a magazine that should interest you. It has a section on making party favors.”

  She snatched the magazine from my hand, her eyes narrowing. “Are you selling magazine subscriptions?”

  “Absolutely not. I thought you might find some ideas you could use.”

  She thumbed through the pages. “Are you selling arts and crafts supplies?”

  “No. I’m a writer for Animal Advocate magazine, and I’ve been here before. My name is Kristy Farrell. I’m not selling anything.” I sighed in frustration. If she didn’t recognize me from my previous visits, I wondered if she would remember a Max, Myra, Scott, or Tory.

  She eyed me suspiciously but continued leafing through the pages.

  “I’m into crafts,” I lied. “If you have time, I could tell you about them.”

  “My lunch break is in thirty minutes. We could meet at the cafeteria. I usually sit near the entrance. By the way, my name is Phyllis.”

  We agreed to meet. As I stepped away, Phyllis called out, “But this better not be a sales scheme. I’m not buying anything.”

  With forty-five minutes to kill, I headed to the herpetology building. I was hoping to find Gary, the reptile keeper. Since he’d worked with Mei the day before her death, I wondered if she had confided in him.
/>
  Gary had called in sick. I still had time left, so I revisited the rain forest, hoping that returning to the scene of the first murder would jar something deep in the crevices of my memory, but that didn’t happen.

  I had just settled down in the cafeteria with a cup of coffee when Phyllis waddled through the door.

  “I started looking through your magazine,” she said as she plopped down across from me. “But I kept getting interrupted with phone calls.” She pulled the publication out of her bag. “I need party favors for the shower.”

  “Working at the zoo must be interesting,” I said, wanting to guide the conversation to the real purpose of my visit, the names in Mei’s journal. Otherwise, I was afraid she’d lead me down the path of potpourri and scented candles. “You must meet lots of people.”

  Phyllis opened the magazine to the table of contents. “You can’t believe how many people I deal with during a day. I’m overworked.”

  I bit my lip. “Have you ever met a Max or Myra here? I believe they work for Pharrel Architects.”

  “They don’t sound familiar.” She began thumbing through the magazine.

  “Maybe it’s not an architect’s firm. They might work for an engineering or construction company. Maybe Wantag Engineering? Or Orville Construction?”

  “I’ve never heard of anyone named Max or Myra.” She continued flipping pages.

  “How about Scott or Tory? They’re friends of my husband, and they had once mentioned doing business with the zoo.” I was afraid my nose would grow if I told more lies.

  “Sorry, but I don’t remember half the people who come through the door.” She pulled her sandwich out of her bag and bit into it as she flipped the magazine toward me. “Now, tell me,” she said with her mouth full. “How difficult is it to make these swan candy cups?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  My plan to get the zoo receptionist to identify Max, Myra, Scott, or Tory was a total bust.

  I left the cafeteria and meandered through the North American mammal section. While lingering at the grizzly bear exhibit, I heard someone approaching.

  “You spend more time here than most of our employees.”

  I gritted my teeth as I turned and faced Frank Taggart.

  “Lots to do.” I stepped back on the path.

  “You’re Tim Vanikos’s sister, right? I hear he’s meeting with the public relations gal right now. Ginger’s not pleased with having a murderer on staff.” He lit his cigarette.

  I glowered at him. He had the charm of a short-order cook during the morning rush. “Tim’s not guilty.”

  He puffed on his cigarette. “Tim’s the only one who has keys to both the rain forest and the snake room.”

  “I don’t believe in a place as large as Rocky Cove no one else has access.”

  “You are stubborn, aren’t you? Dream on.” He puffed on his cigarette as he swaggered down the path.

  Still steaming from Frank’s comments, I headed to the parking lot and, on the way, passed the gorilla preserve. Animals always relaxed me, so I stopped. While watching the keepers feed the three adult gorillas and one baby, I spied Saul Mandel by the side of the exhibit.

  I maneuvered my way toward him. “Hello, Dr. Mandel. I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to let you know that I’m almost finished with my article on breeding endangered species in captivity.”

  He spun his head toward me and stared, first with a puzzled expression, followed by a sudden look of recognition. “Good. Our breeding program is an important topic.”

  He turned back to his gorillas.

  Undaunted, I said, “I interviewed Amanda Devereux too. I must say, she’s holding up well, considering everything.”

  “Considering what?”

  “Considering her husband’s death?”

  “Oh, yes, well, Amanda is a professional. Her work is important to her. I’m sure she wouldn’t let her personal life interfere.”

  I suppressed a smile. Saul Mandel sounded like we were discussing Amanda’s bridge schedule, not the murder of her husband.

  “I know what you mean,” I said. “My brother is involved with his work too. He’s here all hours.”

  Saul Mandel turned his head to follow the movements of the gorillas.

  “You must work late too and miss lots of dinners at home with your wife.”

  “No. I usually leave here shortly after six.”

  “Good for you. Everyone needs time for themselves.”

  “My evenings, young lady, are when I work on my research in the peace and quiet of my home, without senseless interruptions and mindless chatter.”

  “Your wife doesn’t mind?”

  He glared at me. “My wife is an amateur wildlife photographer who shares my fascination with animals. By profession, she’s a systems expert, and she assists me in my computer research. I’ve been involved with an elephant tracking project in Botswana.” He coughed, his body shaking like an erupting earthquake. “Been doing it every night for more than a month.”

  “Every night? No breaks for family or social events? Dinner out? A movie?”

  Saul Mandel waved a sausage-like finger in my face. “The world of nature is far more interesting than some film about a serial killer or space alien with an infectious disease.” He focused his attention back on the gorillas.

  I couldn’t find a hole in Mandel’s alibi, but that didn’t mean he had told the truth. Since a male gorilla decided it was time to relieve himself, and the strong odor was none too pleasant, I turned to leave. But before I stepped away, one of the zookeepers exited the exhibit, locking the gate behind him. He approached the curator.

  “I just weighed Tory,” the young man said, scratching the skin under his mustache. “She gained five pounds.”

  “That’s good to hear.” Mandel nodded. “Be sure to write this up in her record. Now, excuse me. I must get back to my office.”

  Mandel departed. The zookeeper headed in the other direction, but I quickly said, “Tory? Who’s Tory?”

  The keeper turned around, grinning sheepishly. “I shouldn’t have said anything in front of you. People don’t realize it, but Dr. Mandel has a great sense of humor. He named the gorillas after his wife’s family, but only his staff knows this. Tory is his niece.”

  Although sure of the answer, I asked anyway, “What are the names of the three other gorillas?”

  “Max, Myra, and Scott.”

  After questioning the zookeeper, it became clear that the names in Mei’s journal were gorillas, and the numbers next to each name referred to the animal’s weight. The cryptic line, “SM concerned about Tory,” dealt with the curator’s concern about the baby gorilla’s size, which now had improved. The list had nothing to do with trouble at the zoo. Maybe the diary didn’t hold any answers. But I didn’t believe that. Mei had told me she wrote all her thoughts in her diary.

  My thoughts were interrupted when I spotted my brother exiting the administration building.

  I rushed toward him. “I heard you met with Ginger Hart. How did that go?”

  “Not well. She wants me to keep a low profile. Says I’m ruining the zoo’s reputation. Can you believe that? She’s the one who’s publicity crazy. I never wanted to do anything but my research and care for my reptiles.”

  “This will all pass. Before you know, she’ll be hounding you to pose for photos with the lizards.”

  “Well, I really don’t have time for this, especially with one of my reptile keepers out sick.”

  “Is that Gary?”

  Tim nodded. “He’s been out since Mei died. Says he has the flu, but I think her death really affected him. What brings you here again, Kristy?”

  “Oh, tying up loose ends. I ran into Saul Mandel.”

  “So he did come in today. I knew it. Saul never takes a day off.”

  “He wasn’t supposed to come in?”

  “Saul’s wife, Sylvia, is exhibiting her photographs at a show this week, and I think she wanted his help with set-up. Tomorrow is the
grand opening.”

  “Saul isn’t helping her?”

  “I’m sure he is. He probably rose before dawn to provide assistance. But its unlikely he’d devote a full day to the project. Saul doesn’t take time off unless it relates to mammals other than the two-legged kind.”

  “Where is the photo show?”

  “It’s at the Community Art Center in the Village of Sea Breeze. Nothing elaborate, but his wife is real excited. It’s her first exhibition. I understand she took a week off from work so she can be there the entire time.”

  “Really.” An idea flickered in my mind. “I’d like to see her photographs. I assume the exhibit is open to the public.”

  Tim nodded. “I saw the flyer. Ten dollars admission, which includes punch and cookies.”

  I was about to say good-bye when I spied Frank Taggart leaning against a nearby building, cigarette dangling from his mouth.

  My brother must have seen him too. Frank smirked and my brother frowned.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “Frank Taggart.” Tim shook his head. “I can’t believe Amanda thinks so highly of him.”

  “He doesn’t appeal to me either, but maybe she likes him because he’s good at his job. Do you know if he’s a decent worker?”

  Tim shrugged. “He’s not bad. Frank originally worked in a small zoo in Arizona where he cared for mammals, birds, and reptiles—a jack of all trades. So when he came here, he started with me in herpetology. I have to admit he did a good job with the reptiles, but he had an attitude. I was glad when he left last year for a position in ornithology.”

  I felt my eyes widen. “I didn’t know he worked for you. He had access to the snakes?”

  “At one time, but he doesn’t have access anymore.”

  “But what if he made a copy of the key before he left?”

  “All keys say ‘Do Not Duplicate.’ But it doesn’t matter. He never had a key to the rain forest.”

  Frank Taggart’s earlier comment about my brother being the only one with access to the two murder sites came to mind. I didn’t want to badger Tim, but I needed to be sure of my facts.