Monkey Business

by Lois Schmitt

  “Only herpetology staff can unlock the snake room door, right?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Pretty much?” I sighed. “The other day you told me only herpetology. What does ‘pretty much’ mean?”

  “Well, there’s a master set of keys for all exhibits, of course.”

  “Where are they kept?”

  “The director has them. In this case, the acting director.”

  Saul Mandel.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The next morning, I headed out to the photography exhibition where I planned to talk to Saul Mandel’s wife.

  The Sea Breeze Community Art Center was located in a French Mansard Victorian house. I paid my ten-dollar entrance fee to a patrician-looking woman with an expression as frosted as her hair.

  The photographs were arranged by subject: gardens, wildlife, people, and seascapes. I guessed Mrs. Mandel’s specialty would be wildlife, so I wandered toward that section, where a woman with a shape reminiscent of Reuben’s cherubs stood in front of a photo of a coyote pup. My guess was right. The nametag on the lapel of her olive green pants suit read Sylvia Mandel.

  “Your photos are terrific,” I said. “I particularly like the one of the coyote pup. Where was it taken?”

  “Yellowstone Park. My husband and I vacationed there last year.”

  “Really? I met your husband at the Rocky Cove Zoo. He doesn’t seem the type who would ever take vacations. I guess that shows how wrong first impressions can be.”

  “You’re partly right. It was a working vacation for him. He conducted wolf research. I have a photo of a wolf here.” She pointed to an eight by ten photo titled Wilderness King.

  “He certainly is dedicated. He told me about his current research on elephants and that he works on it every night.”

  “He certainly does. Never takes a break. Here’s my picture of a squirrel holding a nut.”

  “It’s charming. Saul said you help him?”

  “Saul is very gracious. He credits me with a lot more than I actually do.”

  “He makes it sound like you’re there for him twenty-four/ seven.”

  “I assist him with his computer, but for the last few weeks, I’ve been too busy preparing for this exhibit to spend much time with him.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t work with him recently because of the photo show?”

  Sylvia scratched her head. “I can’t remember exactly. If he developed a computer glitch, I’d try to help him resolve it, but for the most part I burrowed myself in my basement studio after dinner. I concentrated on my project while he worked in his office upstairs. By the way, my photos are for sale. If you buy today, ten percent goes to the art league. Perhaps you’re interested in the coyote?”

  With coyote photo in hand, I left the exhibit. Saul Mandel never said his wife worked with him every minute. He had only said she helped him with the computer. He hadn’t lied, but still . . .

  Sylvia Mandel’s commitment to her photography equaled Saul’s passion for his elephant research. Absorbed in her work in her basement studio, Sylvia would assume Saul was upstairs the whole evening.

  Bottom line was, she wouldn’t have noticed if he’d left the house.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The next day, I sat hunched over my desk, staring at Mei’s journal. The intercom buzzed, jolting me out of my thoughts. I grabbed the phone.

  “Kristy,” Clara said. “There’s a Detective Steve Wolfe here to see you.”

  Damn! “Send him in.” I stashed Mei’s book in a drawer seconds before he marched into my cubicle. Obviously, he’d started down the hall before Clara had called.

  “Have a seat.” I pointed to a folding chair in the corner.

  “I won’t be here that long.” He pulled out a notebook and pen. “I have a question about the murder of that girl at the zoo.”

  I gritted my teeth. “What do you want to know?”

  “The report says you discovered the body. Is this becoming a hobby?”

  “I don’t think the death of a young woman is a joking matter.”

  “Yeah, sure. What is it with you always being at the zoo before it opens to the public? Normal working hours not good enough?”

  “There are often times when my research requires—”

  “Let me be more direct. Why were you in the herpetology building so early?”

  “I hoped Mei would be available then to be interviewed about her internship program,” I lied. I wasn’t about to tell him that Mei suspected someone of deliberately sabotaging the crocodile gate, at least not until I investigated.

  “You saw no one else in the building?”

  I hesitated. “No one inside, but as I told the officer who took my statement, when I ran out for help, I spotted a man headed away from the facility. I think it was Saul Mandel.”

  “Your brother was near the building too, wasn’t he?”

  “Not in the beginning. But later on, yes. That’s not unusual.

  He’s curator of herpetology. It’s his building.”

  “Yeah, it’s his building.” Steve Wolfe flipped his notebook shut, then pointed his thumb and finger at me like a gun. “And it’s his cobra.”

  Matt and I argued most of the evening.

  We had returned from dinner at our favorite Japanese restaurant. The food had been great, but Mei’s death was on both our minds. With Matt trying his best to convince me to stay away from the murder investigations, the ride home had been especially tense.

  “That place has the best sushi in town,” I said, hoping to change the topic as I twisted the key in the side door lock and stepped into our kitchen. “Don’t you agree, Matt?”

  I spun around. “Matt, where are you?” I had assumed he’d followed me inside, but he was nowhere in sight.

  “Kristy, get out of the house.” Matt appeared in the doorway. He spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper. “The light is on in the den. I shut it off before we left.”

  “The dogs. Why aren’t they here?” I suddenly realized Archie and Brandy hadn’t greeted me at the door.

  “I don’t know, but we’re getting back in the car and calling the police.” He grabbed my arm, but before we moved further, Archie and Brandy bounded into the room, followed by my disheveled-looking brother.

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear your car pull up. I fell asleep in the den with the door closed.” Tim patted Archie with his left hand. “These guys alerted me to your arrival.”

  “Tim, what are you doing here?” My brother held a glass of amber liquid in his right hand. From the smell, I recognized it as scotch.

  “I had a fight with Barbara. Remember when you and I exchanged keys for emergencies?” He raised his glass to his mouth and swallowed. “Well, this is my emergency.”

  “How many of those have you had?”

  “This is the first.”

  “Okay, go into the living room,” I ordered. “I’m pouring a glass of wine for myself and then we’ll talk. Do you want anything, Matt?”

  “This calls for a scotch.”

  I carried our drinks into the living room, then settled on the sofa next to my husband. Tim stood staring out the bay window, his back to Matt and me.

  “Sit down, Tim, and tell us what happened,” I said.

  “Barbara threw me out of the house.”

  “Why? Start at the beginning.”

  “Because of this.” He fumbled through his pockets and handed me a news clipping. “It’s about Mei’s murder. I’ll save you time. Skip down to the last paragraph.” Tim swallowed his scotch in four big gulps.

  My eyes focused on the end of the news article. It read: “Several board members have expressed concern about security procedures at the Rocky Cove Zoo. ‘A cobra is as dangerous as a loaded gun,’ stated Dr. Roland Van Sickle, noted herpetology expert and author of more than a dozen books on snakes. According to Rocky Cove spokesperson Ginger Hart, the zoo trustees are convening tomorrow morning to determine if security had been breached and to form
ulate a tighter procedure regarding accessibility to all zoo animals. The meeting, which will be held in the conference room of the Education building, is open to the public.”

  “My name’s not mentioned, but the comments are about me. I’m responsible for all reptiles. Barbara wants to know how I could be so careless. She says even if the police don’t arrest me for murder, I’ll be fired for incompetence.”

  “I’m sure she’ll calm down,” I assured my brother. But I wondered if Tim had been careless. Was he responsible for Mei’s death?

  “Barbara said she made a mistake marrying me. That she put up with a curator’s low salary for years, but at least I never embarrassed her. Now, she’s a laughingstock.”

  Matt shook his head. I bristled.

  “I blew up, too.” Tim scratched his elbow. “She threw me out. I didn’t know where else to go. Can I stay here tonight?”

  “Of course,” I said. Matt nodded.

  “I love her, Kristy. I know she’s a snob, but I can’t change my feelings. I don’t want our marriage to fall apart.” He wandered across the room, once again facing the bay window.

  I jumped off the sofa and approached my brother, touching his arm. “Don’t worry. You both made statements in the heat of anger. I’m sure once you’ve calmed down, you can resolve your differences. Does Barbara know you’re here?”

  He shook his head.

  “Do you want me to call and tell her?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay, I will. Meanwhile, you must be exhausted. Why don’t you go to bed? You can sleep in the guest room.”

  Matt helped Tim settle in while I phoned Barbara. She didn’t pick up, so I left messages on both her cell and home phone.

  “She’s probably screening her calls,” I told Matt. “I’m guessing she doesn’t want to speak to me.”

  “Sometimes I think he’d be better off without her,” I said later that evening as I emerged from the shower, wrapped in a large towel. I’d never been that fond of Barbara, but when she and Tim had married, I welcomed her into the family and tried to be supportive and friendly. Lately, this was becoming increasingly difficult.

  “I’m not defending Barbara, but she’s stressed out too,” said Matt.

  “Only because she’s embarrassed.” I pulled an oversized jersey over my head and hopped into bed.

  “You really think that’s all she cares about? Her image?”

  “I really do. Barbara loved it when Tim received honors and awards. Now, if he’s not a murderer, he’s a bumbling incompetent.”

  Matt climbed in bed next to me. “They are an unusual couple. He’s really not Barbara’s type.”

  “You’re right. She was on the rebound when she married him. He’s the exact opposite of her ex-fiancé who was handsome, sophisticated, and rich. But Tim was kind and caring at a time when she was vulnerable. I’m glad Barbara didn’t answer the phone tonight. I would have given her a piece of my mind.”

  “Kristy, they have to work it out for themselves.”

  “I agree. For Tim’s sake, I hope they get back together.” I fluffed up my pillow. “He really loves her.”

  Matt leaned over Archie, who had wiggled his way in between us, and kissed me. After switching off the light on his side, he said, “I believe two reasonable people can negotiate almost anything.”

  “The key word is reasonable. Good night.” I turned off my lamp, wondering what Tim would promise Barbara to win her back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  I knew something was wrong the moment I wandered into the kitchen and saw Matt’s face.

  He sat by the table with a mug of steaming coffee between his hands. I could hear the dogs in the back yard.

  “How long have you been up?” I asked.

  “About thirty minutes.”

  “Why so early? You don’t open till ten today.” I poured coffee into my mug.

  “Don’t you remember? I’ve another appointment at the bank about a loan to update the veterinary hospital.”

  Of course. With my brother’s latest crisis, I’d forgotten all about Matt’s appointment. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ve been so—”

  “It’s okay.” Matt rose from his chair and hugged me. “Tim’s problems are worse than mine. At least I’m not a murder suspect.”

  Still, Matt had toiled for years building up his veterinary practice and to see it destroyed by a national chain . . . This loan was important to both of us.

  “The bank won’t deny you the money, will they?”

  “I hope not.”

  “By the way, where is my brother? Still sleeping?”

  Matt shook his head. “He left for the zoo. There’s a note for you on the table.”

  Owl was stretched across the yellow lined paper. She meowed loudly as I pulled the note away.

  I read the handwritten message. “I left early to prepare for today’s meeting on security procedures. I know the trustees will grill me about access to the snake tanks, and I don’t know what the outcome will be. But before the meeting, I’m calling Barbara to see if we can work out our problems. Hope to spend the night in my own home and bed.”

  “He’ll probably have better luck with the trustees than with Barbara,” Matt said.

  I imagined both would give him a hard time.

  I was working at the computer when my phone rang.

  “Barbara is taking me back,” Tim said. “We both agree we lost our tempers.”

  “That’s great. I mean it’s great that’s you’re back together, not that you lost your tempers.”

  “Well, it’s not all wonderful. She wants to see how things play out before making a final decision on whether we should stay together.”

  I guessed Barbara wanted to see if he kept his job, but I decided not to mention that.

  “How is your prep coming for today’s meeting?”

  “I guess okay. I don’t like speaking in public and . . . well . . .”

  “What else?”

  “There’s no way around it, Kristy. The bottom line is the cobra was released during my watch.”

  Since the meeting on zoo security procedures was public, I decided to attend.

  When I arrived, the conference room, which posted a capacity of up to one hundred, was more than two-thirds full. Ginger Hart was seated in the first row. Saul Mandel sat three rows behind. As I glanced to my left, I spotted Detective Steve Wolfe standing on the side, notebook in hand.

  The seven members of the Board of Trustees sat facing the audience. They were positioned behind a long table in the front of the room. Name plates identified each member.

  I stepped into the last row and sat down just as Tim was called to the podium.

  Chairman of the Board Norm Dembrowski started questioning my brother. “How many keys are there to the room behind the snake tanks? I believe you refer to this as the snake room.”

  “Five. In addition to the master key that belongs to the zoo director, I have one and my three reptile keepers have the others,” Tim answered. My heart ached for Tim as I heard the quake in his voice.

  “These keys also open and close the individual snake terrariums, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have any of these keys been reported as lost or stolen?” Dembrowski continued.

  “No, sir.”

  “Prior to the incident, when was the last time you checked the cobra tank?”

  “After the last feeding, around four-thirty in the afternoon. I personally inspected each terrarium to make sure it was locked.”

  “You do this every day?”

  “Yes. When I’m not here, my senior reptile keeper checks. The tanks are always inspected immediately before closing. We also make sure the door to the room is locked.”

  “I have a question,” said the gray-haired woman seated to Dembrowski’s left. Her name plate identified her as Jean Jackson.

  I groaned. Jackson was a state senator who had begun her political career as a prosecutor. Despite her grandmotherly appearance
, she had the reputation of going for the jugular.

  “According to the police report, the locks to the snake room and the cobra tank were not tampered with,” she stated. “Is that true?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there any other access to these tanks?”

  “No. If someone without a key wanted to release a snake, he would need to break into the room and then break the terrarium glass.”

  Jackson leaned forward in her seat. “Since that didn’t happen, the only logical conclusion is that the snake was released by one of the five zoo employees with a key.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  I heard the riveting jackhammers and smelled the melting tar. I was driving by the building that was being converted into the new animal health and wellness center.

  I thought about the water therapy swimming pool and other special features that would be housed here. My husband’s veterinary hospital was small and outdated in comparison. Even if he got the loan for new equipment, I still wondered if he’d be able to compete.

  My first stop before work this morning was Matt’s veterinary hospital, in order to drop off a few old issues of Animal Advocate for the waiting room. As I crossed the parking lot, I noted that the dent in the car belonging to Katie, the office assistant, had been repaired.

  Katie, oblivious to the noise emanating from assorted animals in the waiting area, filled out a medical chart in the reception cubicle. I handed her the magazines. “Matt has been meaning to take these but keeps forgetting.”

  “Thanks. Matt’s in the operating room. But Abby’s inoculating a cat, so she should be out soon if you want to say hello. By the way, Abby said you knew the intern who died from the cobra bite. You must feel terrible.”

  Before I could respond, the door separating the examining rooms from the waiting area swung open. Abby emerged, followed by a woman hugging a white Persian. As Katie prepared the woman’s bill, Abby pulled me aside. “I haven’t eaten anything yet this morning. Come with me to the break room. I have news.”