Case of the Ostentatious Otters

by Jeffrey M. Poole

  “We can’t leave the dogs here.”

  “We can take them with us,” I argued.

  Jillian shook her head, “Not into an aquarium, we can’t. There’s no way they’d allow pets in there.”

  “Hey, bro,” a familiar voice suddenly said. “There you are. We’ve been looking for you.”

  Harry and Julie appeared, looking somewhat disheveled, if you ask me. I gave my friend a sly grin. Julie noticed the look Harry and I gave each other and blushed.

  “Perfect timing, pal,” I said, as Jillian and I rose to our feet. “I need you to dog sit for us.”

  Harry nodded, “Sure. Where’re you headed? Did the dogs find a lead in the cold coin case?”

  “Cold coin case,” I scoffed, chuckling. “No. That’s fairly low on the totem pole. If Sherlock happens to find the coin, great. However, right now, we’re headed to the aquarium. The police invited us to talk with the aquarium bigwigs about the death of their star diver.”

  “We’d love to take care of your dogs for you,” Julie told us. She looked left, then right. “Umm, I see Watson. Where’s Sherlock?”

  I tossed the towels to Harry and pointed at the water, “Sherlock is over there, swimming with some otters. You’ll need to thoroughly dry him off when he comes out. Thanks, pal!”

  “What?” Harry sputtered, as he stared at the towels. “I don’t wanna… you owe me!”

  Thirty minutes later, Jillian and I were strolling through the front entrance of the world famous Monterey Bay Aquarium. This facility opened in 1984, and has won numerous awards for their exhibition of wildlife, their conservation efforts, and their educational programs. This non-profit facility draws around two million visitors a year, and has to be the most visited aquarium in the country.

  “I’ve always loved coming here,” Jillian told me, as we took a seat just inside the front entrance, at the ‘Membership and Tours’ section.

  “I can see why. I really like the layout. I mean, look at that over there. The sign says, ‘Kelp Forest’. I’ve seen kelp before, but good grief, I didn’t know it grew that tall.”

  “It says it can get up to 28 feet tall,” Jillian said.

  “Where’s it say that?” I wanted to know.

  Jillian pointed at the large tank, visible through the open doorway.

  “Right there, next to the Kelp Forest sign.”

  “I need to have my eyes checked,” I grumbled. “I see the sign you’re talking about, but don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of reading that from this distance.”

  Five minutes later, Officer Adolphson appeared, in full uniform. She spotted us sitting on one of the benches and strolled over.

  “Mr. Anderson, Ms. Cooper, thank you for joining me.”

  “Is Officer Lewis not joining us today?” Jillian asked, as she looked behind Mary to see if she could spot any other police officers.

  “Nope, it’s just me today. Had I been making an arrest, or executing a warrant, then I’d have backup. As it is, a simple meeting doesn’t necessitate any additional man power.”

  “Yet, you called us,” I reminded her.

  Mary shrugged, “It was the captain’s idea. Personally, I think he didn’t want me to go alone.”

  “That’s nice,” Jillian decided. “Or condescending, I haven’t decided which yet.”

  “That makes two of us,” Mary crossly agreed. “Anyway, are we ready to go in? I see two staff members headed our way.”

  We rose to our feet just as two people, an older man wearing a blue polo shirt emblazoned with the aquarium’s logo on the upper left breast pocket and khaki pants, and a woman approached. He looked to be slightly older than I was and had black hair with just a few touches of gray. The woman accompanying him was in her late twenties, had short, curly brown hair, and wore a similar outfit, only her shirt was green. As I had noticed with our coin-collecting friend, Chet, both staff members sported dark tans, as though they spent a great deal of time outdoors.

  “Jonathan Hawk,” the man said, by way of introducing himself. “I’m director of the aquarium. This is Heather Rasmussen. She’s head of Human Resources. Thank you for meeting with us.”

  “On behalf of the Monterey Police Department, thank you for having us,” Mary formally responded. “I’m Officer Marianne Adolphson. This is Zack Anderson and Jillian Cooper. Both are from Pomme Valley, Oregon. Zack is a police consultant, and just so happened to be the person who spotted the body in the water.”

  The director held out an arm, indicating we should head farther into the aquarium.

  “Please, let’s talk somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

  “You’re from Pomme Valley?” Heather asked, as we headed past the ‘Mission to the Deep’ sign and then past the Kelp Forest exhibit. “I’ve been up there a few times. They’ve got some great wine up there.”

  “They do, indeed,” Jillian agreed. “If you don’t mind me asking, which one is your favorite?”

  “Oh, gosh. There are so many. I think I’d have to say that Syrah is my favorite.”

  “Do you have a favorite winery?” Jillian pressed.

  Heather nodded, “I do. It’s a different sounding name, so I’m not sure if I’m remembering it correctly. There’s something about cellars in the title.”

  At this, I stopped and turned to look at their head of HR.

  “Cellars? As in, Lentari Cellars?”

  Heather snapped her fingers, “That’s it. You’ve heard of it?”

  I nodded, “You could say that. I own it.”

  Our group came to a sudden stop. The director turned to me, with skepticism written all over his face, and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “You’re telling me you’re the owner of the finest wine I’ve ever tasted outside of Italy?”

  “I’ll pass that on to Caden, my winemaster,” I promised, as I gave Mr. Hawk a grin. “The only thing I’m responsible for is writing the checks.”

  “You ought to know, we serve your wine in our restaurant, Mr. Anderson.”

  “I had no idea,” I confessed. “And please, call me Zack.”

  “Well, Zack, I may need to talk to you once this unfortunate business is all over. We’re thinking about opening another restaurant at our facility, and naturally, we’d like to feature your wine. Perhaps, some type of trade could be arranged?”

  I nodded, “I’m sure we can work something out, Mr. Hawk.”

  “If I have to call you Zack, then you can call me Jon.”

  “Got it,” I nodded. “Will do, Jon.”

  The five of us headed through a large set of glass doors, emerging outside. Jon steered us toward what was labeled as a ‘Wildlife Viewing Station’ and brought us to a stop. We were now facing west, overlooking the mighty Pacific Ocean. Down below us, to our left, was what the staff called their Great Tide Pool. As I stood there, staring down at the thousands and thousands of gallons of water, I couldn’t help but feel I had seen this before. I just didn’t know how, since this was my first visit to this aquarium.

  “What’s the matter?” Jillian suddenly asked. “You’re frowning.”

  “I’ve seen this before,” I told my girlfriend. I swept my arm across the pool and shook my head. “I just don’t know how or where.”

  “At the movies,” Jon said, grinning.

  I turned to the director, “Hmm? What was that?”

  “The Great Tide Pool. It’s been featured in films, but most notably, this was the home of George and Gracie, two humpback whales…”

  “…from Star Trek IV,” I finished. “Thanks, pal. That would have driven me nuts. Wow. It was really filmed here?”

  “The whales weren’t real, of course,” Jon said.

  “It was just some Hollywood magic,” Heather added.

  Mary cleared her throat. She was holding a small notebook in one hand and a pen in the other.

  “Could I ask you some questions about Mr. Jack Carlton now?”

  Jon nodded, “Of course. As our press release st
ated, we at MBA are incredibly saddened by this loss. Jack Carlton was a truly gifted SCUBA diver, aquarist, and conservationist, and will be missed by all.”

  Now, I may not have a photographic memory, but that certainly sounded like it was, word-for-word, identical to what was on the aforementioned press release. I glanced over at Heather, and saw what I thought to be a look of regret pass over her features. I squeeze Jillian’s hand, and when she was looking at me, nodded in Heather’s direction.

  “Is it true that Mr. Carlton only worked here part-time?” Mary continued.

  Jon nodded, “That’s correct. He divided his time between us, the east coast, New Zealand, and London.”

  “Was he associated with any institutions in New Zealand or England?”

  Jon shrugged, and looked expectantly at Heather.

  “No, he wasn’t,” Heather answered.

  “Then why did he spend so much time there?” I asked.

  “That’s where he was paid to go,” Heather said, shrugging.

  “Paid by whom?” Mary wanted to know.

  “National Geographic. He was one of their top divers. They sent him all around the globe. From what Jack told us, they usually send him to either Wellington or London.”

  “Do you know where he was sent to last?” Mary asked, scribbling furiously.

  Heather looked at Jon, “Wasn’t it somewhere in South America? Venezuela, I think.”

  “I don’t know,” Jon admitted. “If you check his dive log, I’m sure it’d tell you where he dove last.”

  “I’m glad you brought that up,” Mary said, as she finished writing notes. She looked up at the director. “We’re going to need to see his dive log. We need to know where he was diving, and most importantly, who he was diving with.”

  “Logs,” Heather corrected. “He has at least five thick, diving logs. That’s how much Jack loved the water.”

  “How well did you know him?” Mary asked. “You keep referring to him as ‘Jack’ and not ‘Mr. Carlton’.”

  Heather blushed, “Oh, umm, not that well, really. I mean…”

  The head of HR trailed off as she noticed the disapproving frown on Jon’s face.

  “Did the two of you have something going on?” Jon coolly asked, using a neutral tone of voice.

  I blinked with surprise. The director’s question, while not accusatory nor derogatory, seemingly dropped the ambient temperature in the area by at least thirty degrees. I’m surprised my breath didn’t come out in visible puffs of air.

  “That was a long time ago,” Heather reluctantly admitted. “I’ve moved on.”

  “Why didn’t I know anything about this?” Jon demanded.

  “Because it would have been frowned upon,” Heather said, with a sigh.

  “Damn right,” Jon snapped. He suddenly remembered he wasn’t alone and looked over at the three of us and let out a sheepish grin. “I apologize. You shouldn’t have had to witness that. As I was saying, if you want to know where Mr. Carlton,” Jon continued, throwing the tiniest bit of emphasis on the proper way to refer to the deceased, “then you’ll have to get your hands on those log books.”

  “Where are they now?” Mary asked.

  “They should be in his office,” Jon stated. He pointed back the way they had come. “It’s this way. I’ll take you to them.”

  “We appreciate your cooperation,” Mary was saying. “While we’re headed toward the deceased’s office, let me ask you a question.”

  “Go ahead,” Jon said, as he held open the glass door for us and waited for the four of us to reenter the building.

  “Volunteers. How many volunteers does the aquarium actually have?”

  Jon looked back at Heather. “Ms. Rasmussen, would you care to field this one?”

  “Of course,” Heather quickly said. “At any time, the aquarium has nearly a thousand volunteers.”

  I whistled with amazement, “Wow! Really? That’s incredible.”

  “Each of our aquarists usually have one or two dedicated volunteers,” Heather continued, “which would then help that staff member maintain their exhibits.”

  Jillian suddenly nodded, “Let me venture a guess. Mr. Carlton had more, didn’t he?”

  “He had a very dedicated 5 or 6,” Heather confirmed. “In addition, he was the only aquarist on staff who had a waiting list of people wanting to volunteer for him.”

  “And why’s that?” I wanted to know. “Was this guy that popular? Seriously, all I can think about now is that Dos Equis commercial. You know, it’s the series of commercials which featured The Most Popular Man in the World?”

  Heather smiled briefly, “I know the ones you mean. However, it isn’t true, since… well, let me rephrase. Depending on how you look at it, it could be. Jack, er, Mr. Carlton, was known for making trips all over the world.”

  “You guys mentioned that,” I recalled.

  “His work has been featured in magazines and he has had a hand in filming numerous specials.”

  My eyebrows shot up, “Really? That’s impressive.”

  Heather nodded, “If you wanted to get your toe in the door of an animal husbandry career, then having Jack Carlton on your side would be the ultimate reference.”

  I grunted, “Damn. If that isn’t a reason to volunteer for someone, then I don’t know what is. But, you said this aquarium has around a thousand? Let me ask you, what would this place do with that many volunteers?”

  “There are all kinds of programs in place for our volunteers,” Heather advised, as we walked by exhibit after exhibit. “Everyone wants to be a docent, but since those of our volunteers who have attained docent status don’t want to give that up, we have quite a long waiting list in place.”

  “What is the difference between a docent and a volunteer?” Jillian wanted to know.

  “Your basic volunteer is there to pretty much do whatever task has been assigned to them,” Heather explained. “Clean tanks, feed animals, run errands, and so forth.”

  “You let volunteers feed the animals?” I skeptically asked. “Pardon me for saying so, but does that sound like it could be dangerous for your animals?”

  Heather laughed, “Well, you’d think so. However, assistant animal keeper has to be the second most sought-after status a volunteer strives for, with docent holding first place. Now, you asked about docents? Well, docents are those volunteers that don’t get their hands dirty. They will guide people through exhibits. They’ll talk to the general public about their assigned species. They’re the ones who typically speak for the aquarium when an actual staff member isn’t present.”

  “I can only imagine the amount of rules and guidelines that must be in place for those people,” Jillian surmised.

  “Pages and pages,” Heather agreed. “And, when a volunteer is promoted to ‘docent’ status, they have a rigorous and thorough training program they have to pass.”

  “On top of agreeing to have a background check run on them,” Jon added.

  We were walking down a brightly lit hall, with rectangular openings placed every five feet. Each of the openings must have been a separate tank, since each window depicted a different species. Jon walked up to a concealed door, produced a ring full of color-coded keys, and selected a green-ringed key.

  Opening the door, he guided all of us in. Having never been behind the scenes at any type of aquarium, or zoo, for that matter, I found the experience interesting. While on the other side of that door, every effort had been made to make it look as aesthetically pleasing as possible. On this side, however, nothing could’ve been further from the truth.

  Pipes were running everywhere, from along the sides of the walls, to great big plastic mains running overhead. The window tanks, I could see, were just large 20 gallon aquariums, resting on wooden support platforms. A wooden boardwalk ran directly behind the tank, so that the attending aquarist would be physically higher than the tank itself, and could therefore observe the tank’s occupants, perform maintenance, and so forth.


  “That’s really slick,” I quietly observed, as I couldn’t decide where to look first. Things were happening everywhere. “Here is someplace I wouldn’t want to be after dark.”

  Heather laughed, “You sound like our swing keepers. We went through quite a few to find the two that trade off during the week. You’d think one of our exhibits featured Freddy Krueger.”

  “This place does make some unusual noises at night,” Jon agreed, as he led us down the narrow walkway. “Here we are. Mind your step. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you Mr. Carlton’s office.”

  I held Jillian’s hand as we carefully stepped down the narrow wooden steps, which returned us to floor-level. We followed Mary, as she disappeared through an open doorway, which led into a small sitting room. Three other doors were visible, only one, however was open. And, it just so happened to be the one Jon had stopped in front of, and was now staring, aghast, at what was visible through the open door.

  The office had been ransacked!

  FIVE

  The following day started way too early for my liking. I mean, I was in the middle of La La Land, happily taking on the Empire, behind the controls of my X-Wing fighter, when an explosion occurred way too close to the nose of my fighter. I tried to bank around it, but suddenly, my controls were frozen. I pulled back on the control stick for all I was worth, yet my fighter sped on, oblivious to what I was trying to make it do. Then, as is the case with many of my dreams, the scene shifted, and suddenly, my X-Wing was headed straight for a body of water.

  “Crap!” I swore. “Crap, crap, crap!”

  I hit the water at what felt like light-speed, only I knew I was doomed. Water hit me square in the face, and just like that, my Star Wars adventure was over. Blinking profusely, and trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes, I suddenly became aware of two wet, furry bodies in bed with me. My brain literally couldn’t process that. I’m sure a few circuits shorted out as I waited for my eyes to clear and I could see just what the hell was going on.

  There I was, in bed, with two damp corgis. Each of them, I might add, was trying to snuggle with me, while my adorable girlfriend laughed at me from the doorway.