by Ruby Loren
I’d grabbed a large cage, used for isolating animals like the capybaras when the vet needed to get up really close. The cage was built for holding rather than transportation, but with the handy addition of my new best friend - the wheeled cart - I was hopeful that I’d be able to get the turkey safely across the zoo and into its new temporary home.
For once, it was nice to not have to do a job like this alone. The zoo’s bird specialist, Leah, had agreed to help with the transportation, especially as the turkey needed a good health check before it could socialise with other animals. The vet had allegedly already popped over this morning and had a look at the turkey, but judging by the state of the room I could see through the glass of the door, and the aggressive gobbles of the turkey inside, I rather suspected the vet’s examination had consisted of a visual inspection.
“Are you ready?” I asked Leah, who flashed me a bright and encouraging smile. I wished I was as confident as she was that this would go off without a hitch, but I’d already met the as yet un-named bird.
“On my count, one, two, three!” I said, pulling open the door, so Leah could push the cage into place. It was the only way we were able to get the cage into the room.
Leah had initially suggested that one of us go inside first to make sure the turkey didn’t immediately run out. I’d waited, but she hadn’t offered and neither had I. Leah clearly had more experience of turkeys than she was letting on, or perhaps it was the infuriated squawking emanating from the room that gave her a clue as to the nature of the beast inside.
In hindsight, the turkey’s escape was rather predictable.
The bird had been kicking up a fuss since we’d arrived, and in spite of its large size, it turned out to be pretty speedy. When I shouted ‘three!’ and pulled open the door, the turkey managed to slip out of the gap before the cage was fully in place. Not wanting to cause the bird injury by crushing it, Leah was forced to abandon the mission and stop pushing the cage forwards. Again, predictably, the turkey dodged around the cage and sprinted away to freedom.
“I don’t suppose it will fly away and we won’t have to worry,” I joked.
“Domestic turkeys can't fly,” Leah unnecessarily informed me, probably a reflex from being asked silly questions all day long. “Sorry,” she added, as an afterthought.
“So much for it being an added attraction to the Winter Wonderland,” I commented.
Leah made a thoughtful sound. “Maybe it’s for the best. People walking around a wonderland want to see the sort of animals who crop up on Christmas cards, not the ones that end up on the dinner table. God forbid, it might make them feel guilty.”
“You might have a point, although, I was hoping we could drum up a bit of extra business by auctioning the bird off come Christmas time.” I winked at the bird keeper but she didn’t look amused. “You’ll change your tune after he pecks you,” I told her.
We both watched as the turkey raced around the corner and out of sight, presumably only moments away from having its first encounter with the general public, who were out in force in the zoo today. It was the grand opening of the wonderland, and a lot of families had come on the freezing Saturday to see what was new at Avery Zoo this Christmas. I hoped they wouldn’t go away remembering the way that the animal they usually had for Christmas dinner had evened the odds this year…
“I suppose we’d better do something,” I said, reluctantly. “We’ve already got the peacocks running loose. Do you think…?” I tried to look as though I was really considering it, but Leah shook her head.
“Turkeys are larger and more easily aggravated than peacocks are.” She exhaled. “I know that’s hard to believe, given the bunch we've been saddled with. All I can think is that our peacocks were spoiled rotten before coming here and don’t like it when they don’t get their way.”
“I’m just waiting for a parent to try to sue the zoo,” I complained.
“Oh, I’m sure no one’s silly enough to. Loads of stately homes have peacocks running wild around the place. Turkeys on the other hand…” She looked at me. “…tend not to be left running free.”
Reluctantly, we hefted the cage and set of in a slow, but dogged, pursuit of the turkey.
We were alerted to the position of our escapee by the chorus of small voices shouting ‘Showdown! Showdown!’. I exchanged an apprehensive look with Leah and together, we walked out of the main zoo and into the play zone to see what was going down.
The turkey had found the peacocks.
A pair of male peacocks (the only type Auryn had managed to acquire, for some reason) were displaying their feathers and advancing towards the turkey, who looked equally puffed up.
“This is not good,” I said, aware that Avery Zoo was about to land itself a reputation for bird baiting. “Any ideas?” I said to Leah, hoping that the bird expert would have some horse whisperer level magic she could work on the feathered idiots.
“Only painful ones,” she said.
My heart sank.
The next five minutes probably provided more entertainment for the watching horde of children than meeting Father Christmas. When the feathers had finally settled and Leah and I were bleeding from multiple peck wounds, the turkey was in the cage and the peacocks were already back to picking on any child that dared get within sprinting distance.
“This doesn’t seem entirely fair,” I commented, watching the peacocks at work.
“I know,” Leah agreed. “All we can do is stick with convention. Peacocks roaming around is cool, turkeys aren’t.”
I shook my head. “The peacocks seemed just as angry as the turkey. I think they scored equal points.” I looked down at my battered hands, which would need antiseptic.
Leah rested a hand on top of the turkey’s cage. “You know, I’ve had a thought. It might not work out, but I think it’s worth a try. Better than him fighting it out with the donkeys, anyway.”
That was how the turkey ended up in the emu enclosure with Boris and Margaret.
“Do you think anyone will notice that he’s, uh…”
“A turkey?” Leah shrugged. “Honestly, some people will probably assume he’s just got short legs.” We looked at each other and giggled.
Leah promised to come back to check that the new room mates were continuing to get along, but the turkey had calmed down a lot when we’d put him in the enclosure with some significantly larger counterparts. The emus were a pretty easy-going pair, so long as there wasn’t anything interesting within their reach for them to bite - like a small child. They didn’t seem to mind their new friend.
“What are you going to call him?” I asked Leah.
“Trouble,” she joked but then thought a little more. “Bernard, as in Bernard Matthews, the turkey company.”
“Harsh, but fair,” I said with a smile. A silly name was surely infinitely better than ending up on the table, which is where I suspected this turkey had been heading.
After the turkey vs peacock fight, I found I had a moment to spare, so I went to walk round the Winter Wonderland. I hadn’t walked across the green area beyond the shop for a couple of days, and to my surprise, it was completely transformed.
Tall green Christmas trees circled the perimeter. I could hear laughter coming from inside the makeshift forest. Tasteful fake snow had been sprayed on the trees and they glittered in the November sunshine. I walked in the entrance, just in front of an excited family. Once inside, you wouldn’t have known you were still in the zoo. It felt like being in a winter woods. I was amazed by the height of the trees the events team had sourced, but it was certainly worthwhile. The smell of pine was wonderfully Christmassy, and when you did reach the animal enclosures with their woven wooden fences, it did feel like you’d just happened upon them in the woods.
I was still smiling at the reindeer when someone came up behind me.
“What’s your verdict?” A male voice asked.
I turned to see Barnaby standing there.
“I haven’t made it all the
way round yet, but… it’s beautiful,” I confessed.
“Thank you. That means a lot,” he said, graciously. “So far, things have gone really well. We’ve had some brilliant feedback. People have said that this is by far the loveliest Christmas attraction in South East England and that they’re going to tell all of their friends.” He tilted his head. “That of course remains to be seen, but we can hope. We also sold a lot of tickets on the door today, despite already having a good number of pre-bookings. I hate to speak too soon, but if things continue on the same trajectory, I forecast that there’ll be a good profit made for Avery Zoo. Not to mention the longer return of people who come here specially for Christmas, but return in the spring.” He grinned sheepishly at me. “Too much of a sales pitch? Sorry, I just wanted someone to practice it on.”
I found I was smiling back. “If it’s true, then it’s a good pitch.”
“It’s true,” he reassured me.
“Have you had any problems with the reindeer?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
For a moment, Barnaby looked confused, but then his expression cleared. “Oh, you mean the annual antler confusion.”
I grinned and nodded. Every year, there was great surprise amongst visitors when they came to the zoo and pointed out ‘the boy reindeer and the girl reindeer’ and traditionally got it wrong. Male reindeer lost their antlers during the winter, whilst females retained them and lost them in the summer. The look on people’s faces when someone was around to inform them that actually, they had the boys and the girls around the wrong way was always comical. Rudolph and the rest of Father Christmas’ reindeer were either an all-female sled team, or had been adolescent males, who kept their antlers at different times.
“We put a little label up explaining the reindeer’s names. There have certainly already been a few gasps of astonishment,” he said.
“Tis’ the season to be educational,” I told him with a grin.
A sudden thought clouded his expression. “Did I hear something about a turkey running around the place earlier? That wasn’t some sort of publicity stunt, was it?” He looked even more concerned. “Was it a protest against the use of animals in the wonderland?”
I shook my head. Avery Zoo hadn’t had a protester presence for quite a while. Apparently, there were other zoos more deserving of persecution.
“Someone abandoned a turkey at the zoo last night. There were some complications getting it to a new home. We initially thought he might fit in here, but it’s probably for the best that the original plan didn’t work out. Bernard is quite an angry turkey.”
“Bernard, nice name choice,” Barnaby said, and I could tell he got the joke. “I suppose you’re not allowed to have him for Christmas dinner?”
I shook my head with a rueful grin. “He’s doing his bit for his kind by taking a bite out of humans, for once,” I said, showing Barnaby my ravaged hands.
“That looks nasty!” he commented and then reached out for a closer look.
I let my hand balance on his palm while he inspected my wounds, strangely feeling like a child seeking comfort from a responsible adult.
“Did you clean the wounds?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, resisting the urge to add ‘I am a zookeeper, you know!’. He was just being nice. “To be fair, Bernard isn’t entirely to blame. A couple of the peacocks got involved, too.”
Barnaby shook his head. “Those things… they’ve already chased multiple members of staff when we were setting up the trees. I know some of them were tempted to spray the peacocks with fake snow.” He tilted his head. “It would have been nice if they were white and not so prone to violence.”
“There is a white one around,” I told him. “I think it’s the nastiest of the lot. Maybe it thinks it’s got something to compensate for.”
“Well, the staff I’ve put on the entrance have strict instructions to not let any wandering peacocks inside,” he said.
“Ooo, bad move. They’ll see it as a challenge,” I joked and Barnaby smiled back.
“I’d better get back to work. There’s a lot of winter prep still to do,” I said, suddenly feeling super self-conscious after the slight pause in conversation. Barnaby’s warm eyes were stirring up all kinds of thoughts, and I wasn’t sure that I was completely against them.
I walked back out of the Winter Wonderland with a festive spring in my step.
Jenna’s death hit me the hardest when I went into the staffroom at lunchtime. Usually, Jenna would have been there, sharing the latest gossip and no doubt chatting about which members of the events team she’d put on her Christmas list. Now there was no one to dispense the latest news. I hated to admit it, but I missed that.
I sat down with my antisocial tuna and sweetcorn sandwich, suddenly feeling morose. I wasn’t permitted to stay that way for long. Tiff sat down with two of her shop assistants.
“Hi Madi, how’s your day been? I heard something about a turkey…” Tiff said with a smile.
I showed them all my hands and they winced.
“Ouch! I thought it was bad when the cardboard boxes fight back,” one of the women said. “Was it the peacocks, too?”
I confirmed that it had been, although, even I wasn’t enough of an expert to be able to give a detailed run down of exactly who had carved out which piece of flesh.
“There’s trouble at the Winter Wonderland,” Tiff told me with a worried look, just for me.
“What kind?” I asked.
“That crazy lady is back,” one of the assistants said. “She’s standing by the wonderland shouting about how half of everything should belong to her.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why anyone would believe it. It’s way too predictable that all of the weirdos come out of the woodwork whenever someone wealthy dies.”
I opened my mouth to say that Mr Avery hadn’t actually been that wealthy, considering the state that the zoo had got into under his son’s leadership, but that wasn’t exactly common knowledge, and I didn’t want to start gossip.
“I hope someone manages to stop her from upsetting visitors to the new attraction,” I said instead.
Tiff grinned. “Barnaby was on it. He’s very hands-on for a manager, isn’t he? He led her away, and I saw him having what looked like a very stern conversation. I just feel sorry for Auryn, having to deal with this on top of everything…” She trailed off and all four of us fell silent again for a moment.
“The police have started calling people in for questioning,” the other assistant said.
“All of them have been men so far,” her friend confided.
I shared a look with Tiff. I knew we were both unsure if the culprit was male. Jenna had never had a talent for making men angry. Women, on the other hand… There had been those who’d disapproved of her lifestyle, and even some who’d been jealous. Not to mention the scores of women who suspected Jenna of trying to steal their husband or boyfriend. Even the malicious manner in which Jenna’s body had been, well… positioned, seemed to give credence to it being a crime of hate.
The two girls went off to grab some coffee, and I was left alone with Tiff.
“I bumped into Harry today. He’s less than happy,” she told me.
I raised a questioning eyebrow.
“The police have been all over him because someone told them that he’d been involved with Jenna fairly recently.” Tiff cleared her throat, making sure to look around the room. There were listening ears everywhere at the zoo. “He’s worried it’s going to make his engagement fall through, if Julia finds out…”
I nodded, indicating that there was no need for Tiff to finish her sentence. She’d told me at the time that Jenna had come to her upset when she’d found out that Harry had been seeing both her and Julia at the same time. It was obvious that Julia still didn’t know about that. Harry clearly wanted to keep it that way.
I reflected that Jenna had done well keeping something like that a secret when she was renowned for her gossip. However, I couldn’t help but wonder
if she hadn’t been more than a little upset when the proposal had happened, right in front of her. Something like that would be sure to stir up old wounds. Had Jenna confronted Harry later and threatened to finally come clean about his cheating ways? Had Harry snapped and permanently silenced her?
My lips thinned when I remembered the method of murder. Jenna had been poisoned. Poison tended to be premeditated. Normal people don’t tend to carry a stash around with them just in case someone gets on their nerves.
I shook my head. It was impossible to say who might have done it. It could still have been Harry. He’d been at the zoo long enough to remember the incident with the crime writer, what felt like an age ago. Perhaps he had been carrying the poison around with him, just in case Jenna behaved the way he’d worried she would…
“Do you think we should tell the police?” I asked Tiff.
My best friend shrugged her shoulders, somehow managing to make the movement look glamorous. “It’s up to him to tell the truth when he’s questioned. If he’s innocent, then he shouldn’t have anything to hide. Other than his past transgressions,” she added.
“Hmm, I suppose we’ll have to see how the investigation goes,” I said.
She nodded. “That’s all we can do. It’s in the hands of the police.”
I didn’t miss the sideways glance she gave me, warning me that the investigation should really stay that way.
I raised my hands in mock defence. “It’s okay. I’ve decided I want a nice, quiet Christmas. No getting involved with unsolved crimes.”
Tiff shot me a disbelieving look. “Sure thing, Miss Marple.”
6
Pride and Prejudice
I swung by the office later that day, hoping to catch Auryn so I could pass on the zookeepers’ requests for winter supplies for various animals. A lot of bedding materials were needed, as many of the animals liked to build warm cosy nests at this time of the year. The otters had already been busy with their supply of straw, making a racket that travelled halfway across the zoo.