And I also got them out of that stinky cage sooner than you were able to.
“You kids wait here,” ordered Mr. Braemarie. He hurried over to the next cage where the tranquilized bear was lurching and stumbling about, making pathetic whining calls and banging off the cage bars. I felt sorry for the poor thing. Mr. Braemarie unlocked the cage door and slipped inside. Mindi gasped.
“Should he be going in there?” she whispered.
“Are you safe in there, Mr. Braemarie?” asked Roy.
“Don’t worry,” he answered. “This old girl’s so dopey she doesn’t know what’s going on. She’s only about eighty kilograms, and I heard Stedman say he was filling each dart with enough drug to take down the big males. I hope she’s okay.”
We watched as he gently reached down her furry back and pulled out the tranquilizer dart. She growled and swatted in the air, and even though there was little strength behind it, I was sure that those sharp claws would have done a lot of damage to Mr. Braemarie if they’d made contact.
“It’s all right, girl,” he crooned. “Take it easy.” She whimpered and continued to swipe listlessly at the air in front of her. Mr. Braemarie carefully backed out of the cage, shutting the door behind him. “I don’t think she’ll be able to stay on her feet much longer.” He looked down at the dart distastefully, shaking his head. “At least they didn’t use a bullet on her. She’s a zoo bear; she’s never hurt a flea in her life. They weren’t even going to lend her to us at first.”
“So that’s where you got the bears, the zoo?” I asked.
“Some of them,” nodded Mr. Braemarie. “Others came from wildlife centres and sanctuaries. The rest were live-trapped from nuisance calls and brought here.”
I noticed Roy and Mindi’s puzzled looks. I smiled.
“Mr. Braemarie isn’t a poacher like we thought he was,” I explained. “He’s working with Dad. This was a sting operation to catch poachers!”
Understanding dawned on Mindi’s face. Mr. Braemarie laughed as she hugged him. “I was so worried that you were a poacher and that Mom and you would break up and that I’d never see Candy and Ginger again!”
“Glad to hear you just use me to get to my horses,” he chuckled.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.” Mindi blushed.
Mr. Braemarie hugged her again. “I’m glad you know I’m not a poacher, too. I wouldn’t want you to think that I’d do something like that.”
“Did you know that we were suspicious of you?” I asked.
“I wondered, especially since Mindi hasn’t been her usual friendly self with me lately. Your father let me know right away when you asked to come here with Mindi. He thought it would be best to discourage you from visiting. He told me how nosy you can be, and apparently even he underestimated you.”
“But you knew I was coming here with Mindi,” I said, frowning.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Well, my attempt to keep you away by telling Mindi you weren’t allowed over wasn’t successful for very long. Turns out she can be a headstrong girl.” He looked over at Mindi who blushed again. “Then, when I talked to your dad about it, we decided you’d get too suspicious with both of us not letting you visit. So I tried to scare you off instead.”
“By threatening me in the stable?” I asked. “Telling me that I could get hurt by nosing around too much?”
“Yes. I wasn’t too successful there, either,” he said, solemnly.
“You just made me more suspicious of you,” I agreed. “That’s when I knew for sure that I had to get into this barn and see what you were keeping inside.”
He shook his head. “Boy, your father wasn’t kidding around when he said that you’re one nosy kid.” I looked at him, wondering if I should take that as a compliment or an insult.
I turned at the sound of voices coming from the front room.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I got Mindi and your son involved in all this, Detective Martin.” It was Mr. Stedman speaking. I scowled. That two-faced, lying ...
Dad walked into the room, Mr. Stedman a step behind, rubbing his wrists as if they were tender. I was happy to see that they were red and sore looking. Tipper must have had him tied up nice and tight, just as I’d hoped.
Dad grunted. “It’s not standard procedure to bring youths to a potential crime scene, but you’ll have a chance to give a complete statement back at the station. You know how it goes. Colin Braemarie will join us. He’s been working with us undercover to infiltrate this poaching ring,” he explained.
Mr. Stedman’s eyes widened. “He has?” He looked over at Mr. Braemarie as if noticing for the first time that he was no longer trapped in a cage. Then he saw me. “You! You’re here, too!” he said, frowning. “You girls are supposed to be at my house with Cori.” He stopped rubbing his wrists and let his hands dropped limply by his sides. His wrists! They were red but ...
“Dad! Why isn’t he wearing handcuffs?” I asked, startled.
“Who?” he snapped, clearly not wanting to hear anything out of me.
“Mr. Stedman,” I said. “He’s working with the poachers.”
“What are you talking about, Sarah? He’s a Conservation Officer,” he explained impatiently.
“Dad, I heard them talking out there. He was working with them, I’m telling you,” I said.
“Just like Mr. Braemarie was working with them?” he asked, one eyebrow up. “For your information, I found Mr. Stedman tied up outside. You need to step down now and let me handle this. You’ve helped enough for one day.” I got the look again, the one that could cut glass.
“Dad!” I protested. “I heard them talking outside. I’m telling the truth. He asked Gorely to tie him up so he’d look innocent when you found him.”
Mr. Stedman had broken into a sweat, but his voice was clear and steady. “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said. “She must have misunderstood. I had a gun on me the whole time, just ask Braemarie and the kids. They made me fill the darts with the tranquilizer and then they took me outside and tied me up to keep me out of the way.”
Dad looked over at Mr. Braemarie, who shrugged. “He had a gun on him anytime I saw him.”
Dad looked back at me, and his face hardened. “Sarah, when will you learn that you can’t just go around making accusations with no evidence to back them up?” He turned back to Mr. Stedman. “I’m sorry about all this. It’s the excitement. It’s easy to misunderstand what’s going on.”
“I understand, Detective,” said Mr. Stedman, wiping the sweat from his upper lip. “No harm done.”
Then it occurred to me. Like I’ve always said, I may be slow but I’m not stupid.
“I have evidence!” I blurted.
“Sarah!” yelled Dad. “Stop this!”
“No, I do,” I insisted. “It’s in his Jeep. There’s a note in Mr. Stedman’s glove compartment saying when and where he’s going to get paid for helping the poachers.”
The room crackled with tension. Stedman tensed, ready to bolt. Mr. Braemarie moved to his side, ready to grab him if he did. But he didn’t need to worry. Mr. Stedman realized he was caught. He sighed, his body sagged.
“She’s right. I was involved,” he said quietly. Mindi gasped, and her hands flew to her face. He looked at her sadly. “I don’t know what came over me, to get involved with poachers. I’ve never done anything like this before.” I have to admit, he did look sorry. Sorry he got caught, most likely.
“The money’s good,” answered Mr. Braemarie, grimly.
Dad put handcuffs on Stedman and walked him out to his waiting police car, explaining how he’d be giving his full confession at the police station, and if he knew what was good for him, he’d also tell them everything he knew about the poaching ring.
“I can’t believe Mr. Stedman was part of all this,” moaned Mindi, once they were out of the room. “Poor Cori! She’s going to be devastated.”
“I know,” I agreed. “I couldn’t believe it either, but I
saw it with my own eyes.”
“Okay, kids,” said Mr. Braemarie, clapping his hands. “I’m going to arrange for the vet to get out here and take a look at this poor bear ...”
We all looked over at the tranquillized bear. She was now slumped on the floor of her cage, looking at us with bleary eyes.
“... then I guess we all better get ourselves to the station.”
“Cool,” said Roy with a grin.
LOCAL CONSERVATION OFFICER
ARRESTED IN POACHING STING
Bracebridge, October 6
Harry Stedman, a local Ministry of Natural Resources Conservation Officer, along with four other men, was arrested at a farm outside the town of Bracebridge yesterday. Charges laid included poaching (the unlawful taking or killing of game), with the intention of selling bear parts in the international black market. These arrests were the result of a sting operation organized by the OPP in conjunction with the RCMP and Environment Canada Intelligence Officers.
Detective Ed Martin, OPP Bracebridge Detachment, led the investigative team. A mock bear farm was constructed at a local farmhouse outside of Bracebridge. This bear farm was presented to potential buyers as a bile gathering operation, similar to the bear farms that are being slowly eradicated in China. The bile gathered from bear gallbladders has unique medicinal qualities that are especially valued in traditional Chinese medicines, making the black market trade so lucrative.
While appearing remorseful, Harry Stedman refused to comment. It has been conjectured that Stedman’s involvement in past Special Investigations Unit poaching investigations allowed him to make connections with various suppliers and traffickers of bear and other animal parts, thereby providing this opportunity for criminal involvement, allegedly his first time on the wrong side of the law. Bear galls range in prices on the foreign black market from $2,000 to $10,000, even as high as $50,000 in some parts of the world.
Colin Braemarie, an Environment Canada Intelligence Officer, was recruited to run this makeshift bear farm. He acted as the owner-operator, tended the bears, and made the connections with potential buyers. “I was fortunate to have phenomenal support from provincial zookeepers, who orchestrated the recruitment of the majority of the bears,” said Braemarie. “They helped with the set-up of the barn and taught me everything I needed to know about the daily care needs of the bears. Also, the bears were monitored closely by a large animal vet to ensure that they weren’t overstressed during their stay here. In addition, we used the barn as a temporary holding area for confiscated bear parts seized during previous searches and investigations. This added to our authenticity to the potential buyers.
“During their stay at the mock bear farm, the bears were treated humanely. No bears were hurt during the course of this investigation,” assured Braemarie, “and now that the investigation has concluded, they will all be returned to their home environments — whether that was a zoo, a sanctuary, or the wild.”
With Canada being the largest remaining habitat for black bears, illegal trade is increasing. A recent estimated worldwide value of the illicit trade in wild animals was more than $10 billion a year; higher than the black market for arms. With statistics like these, it is apparent that investigations such as this one will become more common.
Well, Dad, it looks like my report is finished, at last.
I want to say, once again, how incredibly sorry I am. I have to admit, you do have a point when you say that my involvement, or as you like to put it, interference, led to Mr. Braemarie, Mindi, and Roy being held against their will in the barn. But how was I to know that Mr. Stedman would tell the poachers about our Crime Stoppers call, making them change the date of the pickup? And how could I have known that those greedy poachers were going to double-cross Mr. Braemarie and decide to steal all the bears, not just the ones they agreed to buy? You didn’t have any of that information either.
If you really think about it, it was a good thing I was at the farmhouse that day or the whole sting could have been blown. Those poor bears would never have been returned to their homes, and who knows what would have happened to Mr. Braemarie? I’m not even going to mention that, if it wasn’t for me, you would have had no idea that Mr. Stedman was a bad guy! You would have let him loose to strike again!
And let’s not forget, as I’ve outlined very clearly throughout my report, you played a very large role in influencing many of my “bad” decisions:
First of all, stopping me from visiting a new friend — really, Dad! Don’t you watch Dr. Phil? That only made me want to visit her more!
Secondly, you could have been more honest with me about Mr. Braemarie’s farm. I’m not really so young and foolish that you have to protect me all the time. I know you couldn’t tell me everything — but enough to prevent me from investigating on my own would have made sense, wouldn’t it?
Finally, imagine a father letting another man threaten his own daughter — even if it was just to scare me away. I’m shocked! But Mr. Braemarie’s threatening words only increased my suspicious and curious nature — and you should have known that they would. (By the way, Mr. Braemarie bought me my own riding helmet since he felt so bad about the way he spoke to me in the stable, so it actually worked out well for me in the end.)
I guess you’re just going to have to face it, Dad. I’m a curious kid, and if you want me to stay out of your way during these kinds of investigations, you’re just going to have to do a little more sharing, don’t you think?
So Dad, what else can I say? Oh, I know:
• I’ve really learned from my mistakes this time.
• I’ll try to remember that all choices have consequences, just like Roy says you keep telling me.
• I’ll mind my own business.
• I’ll live my life the way you want me to live.
• I’ll stop thinking for myself.
• I’ll blindly obey you at all times no matter how silly your rules are.
Are you buying any of this, Dad? Do I need to keep making stuff up that you want to hear?
You gave me this assignment so that I had to follow through like a real detective who would write a report outlining findings and conclusions. You wanted to introduce me to the more dreary part of the world of investigation. At first, I thought it was going to be awful, just like you hoped, but once I started, other than the solitary confinement, I didn’t mind writing this report at all. Actually, I kind of liked it! In fact, I think I’ll start keeping a journal.
So, I guess your plan backfired. Sorry about that (not really).
I still really want to be a detective, like you, Dad.
Love,
Sarah
Dear Sarah,
I just finished reading your report, and since you put so much time and effort into writing it, I thought it was only fitting to reply to it in writing. I think I now know more about you than I ever cared to know. You weren’t kidding when you said you were going to tell me everything. I expected about a dozen pages. It took almost a week to get through the whole thing! Well, a couple of times I had to stop reading because I was losing my temper. But like you said, this was your punishment, so I managed to stop myself from stomping up to your room and yelling at you all over again.
I still have a couple of concerns. One is that you continue to think you were instrumental in Stedman’s capture and arrest. How many times do I need to tell you that we would have figured it out without you? Sure, we got him a little faster with your help, but we would have gotten there regardless. Morchan was ready to talk faster than your Mom’s new pig eats its slop. We would have gotten it out of him in no time.
My other concern is that you still want to be a detective. It’s a very dangerous job, Sarah. Can’t you get interested in something else? What about being a teacher? Or a veterinarian? They’re much safer professions. Believe me. Why would you want to deal with the criminals of this world? It just turns you into an old grump like me. You said so yourself, how you don’t want to be around me when I’m a
ngry.
I was really hoping to dissuade you from detective work with this assignment, but I can see that I haven’t. In fact, it’s very clear to me that I’ll have to keep a very sharp eye on you from now on.
I’m on to you.
Love,
Dad
MY NEW JOURNAL
DATE: OCTOBER 24
This is my first entry in my new hard-covered journal. I plan to record the events of my life. Like Dad says, trouble likes to follow me around. I might as well start writing about it. Who knows, I may have to defend my actions again someday, so this time, I’ll be ready.
Since the arrest of Mr. Stedman, Cori hasn’t spoken a word to me or Mindi. First of all, she wasn’t at school for over a week. Now she turns her back when I walk into the room, and she refuses to work with me if the teacher asks her to. She had to serve detention the other day because she wouldn’t sit in the same group as me during science class. She hates my guts. I can see it in her eyes. I guess I can live with that. I’d probably hate me too.
As for Mr. Stedman, he avoided a jail term by giving the police all his contacts within the poaching ring. As a result, more people were arrested. Mr. Stedman ended up being slapped with a — in my opinion — petty fine for his role in the bear poaching ring, but much worse, he lost his job with the Ministry of Natural Resources. He walks around town, fulfilling his community service hours, hunched over, defeated. I almost feel sorry for him. He probably hates my guts too. Oh well.
Mr. Braemarie and Ms. Roberts are still seeing each other. Turns out, Ms. Roberts knew all along that Mr. Braemarie was working with the police, but she didn’t know the minor details, like he was keeping bears in his barn. Might have been nice for her to tell Mindi what she knew, don’t you think? Speaking of Mindi, she still gets to spend lots of time at the farmhouse with her beloved horses so she’s happy. The difference is that now I’m actually allowed to go over there too. No more lying! Unfortunately, Roy often likes to tag along with me so that he can make goo-goo eyes at Mindi while we’re riding. I don’t know how she can stand it. Funny enough, Mom and Dad have also been spending some time at the farmhouse. Mr. Braemarie’s a big fan of barbecues and get-togethers. I’m sure glad he didn’t turn out to be a bad guy after all.
The Whole, Entire, Complete Truth Page 16