“What in blue blazes is happening?” Grandfather demanded. “Chief Burke said I was needed over at the zoo to keep someone from stealing the new animals.”
“Does he look familiar?” I asked, pointing at the imposter, who was now upright, being escorted to Aida’s police cruiser.
“Never saw the blighter in my life.”
“He’s claiming to be Laurencio Ruiz.”
“Nonsense.” He glared at the imposter. Then his face fell. “Does this have anything to do with Ruiz not getting back to me?”
“Dad,” I asked. “Did you happen to take a picture of that John Doe you and Horace examined over in Clay County?”
Dad looked stricken for a moment, then nodded. I knew he would have. Like me, Dad had gotten into the very twenty-first-century habit of snapping a cell phone picture of anything he thought might later be useful. He pulled out his phone and began pushing buttons.
“This is going to be bad news, isn’t it,” Grandfather murmured.
Dad held up the phone. Grandfather looked at the screen and nodded.
“Yes. That’s Laurencio. Damn.”
We all stood in silence for a few minutes. And then we watched as Aida loaded the imposter into her cruiser.
I decided it would be a good thing to distract Grandfather.
“So enlighten me,” I said. “Why would this smuggler guy even try to steal back the animals? Was he stupid enough to think we’d let him get away with it?”
“Criminals are often rather stupid,” Dad said.
“And greedy,” Grandfather added. “I expect it was greed that motivated him.”
“Were the animals that valuable?”
“Oh, yes,” Grandfather said. “Between the chimps, the ocelot, and the tiger, and the Gouldian finches that have become so inexplicably popular lately—well, black market prices fluctuate wildly, but I expect he could get anywhere from fifty thousand to two hundred thousand for them. Worth a little risk, I should think. Especially if the tiger turns out to be what I think it is. Come on, I’ll show you.”
“It’s not just a tiger?” I muttered as I followed him and Dad at a near run to the tiger’s new quarters.
The tiger was inside, sulking in the warm tropical atmosphere of a small enclosure in the big cat house. Nearby, in the large main enclosure, Tiberius, Livia, and Vipsania prowled restlessly and seemed less than enchanted to have a new resident.
“Notice the difference between him and the others,” Grandfather said. “The narrower skull, the longer muzzle, the rhomboid stripes, and that bright orange color.”
Yes, he did look a bit different, though I wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t pointed it out. Or if I’d noticed, I’d have assumed the differences were typical of an adolescent tiger.
“I’m not sure yet, but I think he could be a South China tiger,” Grandfather said.
“And that’s rare?” I asked.
“All tigers are rare,” Grandfather said. “But the South China tiger is functionally extinct in the wild. There are thought to be less than a hundred of them in captivity. So if this smuggling ring Laurencio was trying to infiltrate has got hold of one of them—this could be enormous.”
Dad and Grandfather seemed to have settled in to contemplate their rare tiger for the time being. I decided it was time for me to get back to the theater.
“I was trying to decide whether to name him Nero or Caracalla,” Grandfather was saying as I headed for the door. “But then I realized—why am I naming all the tigers after villains? From now on, I’m giving them heroes’ names.”
“Good plan,” Dad said.
“And I think I’ll call this fellow Laurencio.”
Grandfather wasn’t looking my way, but I gave his idea a thumbs-up anyway.
Time for me to get back to the theater. Rehearsal would have started. And although I could contribute little or nothing to what was actually happening onstage, the closer we came to opening night the more little practical problems arose offstage to distract Michael. Those I could deal with just as well as he could. Often better. Time to leave crime solving to the chief.
I was halfway to the theater when my phone rang. I glanced over at the seat where I’d tossed it. Ekaterina. I was tempted to let it go to voice mail and call her when I got to the theater. But if something dire was happening, I wanted to know.
I grabbed the phone and answered it as I steered my car into the nearest place where the snowplows had created a little bit of a shoulder.
“In the last few days I think I’ve talked to you more than to my husband,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Meg, do you know if there was a reason for the police to confiscate the bird?”
“Bird?” My brain drew a blank for a moment. “You mean Haver’s finch? Not that I know of. Is it missing?”
“Yes. Mrs. Frost is hysterical.”
“Mrs. Frost?” Something didn’t add up. “Why would she be upset? For that matter, why would she even know it was missing?”
“Apologies,” Ekaterina said, “I omitted to give you the necessary context. You recall that I put Mrs. Frost in the same hallway as Mr. Haver and Mr. O’Manion.”
“The better to keep an eye on all three,” I said. “I remember. Go on.”
“Apparently while passing Mr. Haver’s door, Mrs. Frost heard the finch singing, and became agitated for the bird’s welfare. She said she was fond of all the pretty birds. So I instructed Lupe, the housekeeping associate who cleans that hallway, to notify me when she was ready to clean Mr. Haver’s room. My plan was to collect the old lady and take her in to see that the bird was in fine shape. And she was in fine shape—I did a video consult with Dr. Rutledge over the phone this morning, and he was very satisfied with her condition, and promised to come by to inspect her in person tomorrow.”
Poor Clarence. On top of everything else he’d been dealing with since this morning’s raid, he was having to make house calls at the Inn.
“But that was this morning,” Ekaterina said. “Just now, when I went in to display the bird to Mrs. Frost, she was gone.”
“Just the bird, or was the cage gone, too.”
“The cage, too. And to the best of my knowledge, Mr. Haver is still at rehearsal. I have not yet checked with every single staff member, but so far no one I have spoken to has seen Mr. Haver, and no one admitted anyone else to the room.”
“Then why would you think the police had confiscated the finch? They couldn’t have gotten in without one of your staff.”
“They are the police. They have resources we ordinary civilians do not.”
Actually, I suspected the chief would be envious of some of Ekaterina’s resources.
“I think they’d clear it with you first,” I said aloud. “They know you’ve been helping us on this.”
“If it is not the police, then perhaps Mrs. Frost is right,” she said. “Perhaps the finch smugglers infiltrated the hotel to reclaim the bird.”
“Mrs. Frost said that?”
“Actually, what she said was that the man must have taken the finch. And when I asked what man, she said, ‘The man who comes to take the animals.’ She was very agitated. It took two frozen daiquiris to restore her to a state of calmness.”
The man who comes to take the animals. That did sound rather ominous.
“I think you need to tell this to the chief,” I said.
“What if he does not approve? Of our searching Mr. Haver’s room?”
“You don’t have to mention the searching,” I said “You could just let him assume housekeeping noticed the absence of the bird when they went in to clean.”
“Perhaps you could tell him?”
Was it a generic Russian thing, this disinclination to talk to the police? Or a daughter of a self-proclaimed Russian spy thing?
“Let’s make sure the bird’s really missing,” I said. “I’m on my way over to the theater. Haver should be there, rehearsing. I’ll ask him about the finch. Or maybe I won’t need to ask. It’s always possible Haver decided to take the bird over there.”
“If Mrs. Frost becomes agitated again, I will suggest as much. I will let you know if we discover anything.”
“Likewise.”
I pulled back onto the road. And quickly realized I was driving much too fast. I forced myself to slow down to a little under the speed limit. I checked the clock on my dash. Three o’clock. Theoretically, the second run-through should start any minute, although who knows what Haver’s arrival had done to the schedule.
I’d find out soon enough.