Zoe hid away from the streetlamp, in the shadows beneath an archway that formed part of the building that stood opposite to The Lazar Virtual Reality Computer Games Company. She had been waiting almost an hour for Zak Araz to put in an appearance, but the light that shone brightly from his office window suggested he may be working late yet again.
This was the third evening in a row that Zoe had stood there. So far, Araz had not left his office. Zoe thought this was strange and she was of the opinion that he might be sleeping in the building. She told Benson of her thoughts and he offered to watch and wait instead of her, but Zoe was determined to find out what Zak Araz was up to, and she wanted to be the one to follow him and make that discovery. Benson, despite his misgivings, had reluctantly agreed.
It had still been light when Zoe arrived at her hiding place. She’d watched the sun descend at the westward end of its daily arc, until it finally disappeared. It was a strange sight as although the reddening ball spread rosy fingers across the darkening sky, it did so without casting the long shadows across the park that were customary in the last watery rays of the day. She thought about what Benson had said about the weather. He was right when he’d mentioned how pale and insipid the recent sunshine was and how the rays didn’t seem to be as warming as they should be for the time of year.
But what time of year? she mused. I’m totally confused by the calendar and date changes that I keep on seeing. I might just be able to understand how the heat from the sun could be weakened by the force field that the professor talked about, but I’ve no idea why or how those calendars keep on changing.
As she stood there immersed in thought, waiting and staring up at Zak Araz’s window, the light in his office went out just as it had on the previous two evenings. Zoe glanced at her watch. It showed a time of two thirty. “That can’t be right,” she whispered. “It’s almost dark… and I’ve been here for over an hour.”
She shook the wrist that her watch was strapped to and bent her ear to the timepiece. It was ticking as normal and she could vaguely see the second hand moving around the watch face in the dim light. She was about to put her hand back by her side when a strange thought struck her. She peered at the watch again. This time more intently.
“That’s odd,” she muttered, as she continued to stare at the watch face for the next few minutes. Zoe couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The hands on her watch seemed to be slowly moving backwards.
Her studied attention to her watch and any subsequent chain of thought was quickly broken by a movement from something in the doorway of the Lazar building. Zoe stared hard into the gloom to try to see what had made the movement. She screwed up her eyes in the darkness and eventually made out the figure of a person walking quickly along the footpath that led into the park.
Zoe buttoned her coat against the cool of the evening air. She hadn’t noticed the cold previously, but now she gave a little shiver as she slipped silently from her hiding place and began her task of following the figure she’d briefly espied in the doorway. She hoped it was Zak Araz and not one of his workforce, but she couldn’t be absolutely certain as to who it was. The figure had been shielded by the developing darkness as he, or she, had left the building.
Zoe could see the human shape ahead of her as she sprinted through the park gates. The park itself was deserted save for a couple walking a dog near to the entrance. It was now pitch black, but she could see a silhouette outlined against the light from the streetlamp on the opposite side of the park, and it was definitely male. Zoe heard his footsteps echoing on the concrete pathway in the stillness of the silent parkland. She hoped that he couldn’t hear hers. She had specially chosen soft soles for this very reason.
Zoe felt her heartbeat quicken as she pursued the figure ahead of her. Her thoughts raced, What if he turned around and saw her? What if he hid and then pounced on her as she passed by? What if it wasn’t him?
The man left the park and turned left onto the street outside. Zoe quickened her step. She didn’t want to lose sight of him or give him the chance to hide and jump out on her. She soon saw him again as she made the left turn herself. It was quite light now with all of the streetlamps fully operational, so Zoe slowed her pace and kept as near to the walls and buildings as she could, trying to stay in what little shadow there was.
Zoe tailed the figure until they got to the big wall surrounding the safari park. At this point, the man stopped and looked around. Zoe quickly slipped into a nearby alleyway, holding her breath in case she’d been seen. Her heart was thumping. She’d only had a split second as he turned around and she hoped she’d remained unobserved as she took her avoiding action, especially as in that brief moment she’d caught sight of his features in the glow of a nearby lamp. There was no doubt about it. She had been following Zak Araz.
After a few minutes, Zoe peeped round the wall of the building at the end of the alley. She was relieved to see that he wasn’t crossing the road towards her. In fact, he wasn’t there at all. Zoe’s eyes scanned the area around where she had last seen Zak, but it was empty. There was no sign of any person. The road was deserted. Disappointed, Zoe was about to emerge from the alleyway when a small movement ahead caught her eye. There, on top of the wall of the safari park, was a buzzard. As she watched, the bird shuffled slowly along the brickwork, stopping every so often to tilt its head as if listening or watching for some sign of its prey.
Zoe was intrigued. She watched the bird in admiration until she was suddenly struck with a thought, As far as I’m aware, buzzards don’t hunt at night – that’s owls – which means that bird could be him. He’s become a bird. Why? What’s he going to do now?
Even as the thoughts entered her head, she saw the bird spread its huge wings and rise skywards. Zoe lost sight of it in the night sky. She waited a while, but the bird didn’t return, so she decided to go home. She inched warily along in the shadows that covered the house wall she’d been leaning against, before she left the cover of the alleyway. As she turned into the well-lit main street ready to make her journey home, a voice rang out behind her.
“Good evening… Miss Boswell, isn’t it?”
Startled, Zoe turned quickly to find Zak Araz standing right behind her. She stammered a greeting in return.
“You’re not following me I hope?” said Zak. He was smiling, but Zoe recognised the threat and menace hidden in his voice tone.
“N… n… no, of course not,” she stuttered.
“You seem a little surprised and scared,” said Zak, drawing himself up to his full height and towering over Zoe.
“I’m a little startled, that’s all,” said Zoe, trying to regain her composure so she wouldn’t give clues to how she really felt. “You made me jump when you spoke to me as I came out of the alleyway.”
“So, why are you here?” asked Mr Araz. “Do you live around here?”
“No, I’ve just been to visit a friend of mine. She lives down there,” lied Zoe, pointing her arm down the alley.
“Well,” said Mr Araz. “I should hurry home if I were you. Bad things can happen to a girl on her own when night is falling.”
“I’ll be okay, Mr Araz,” said Zoe. “There’s some good street lighting around here. But you’re right, I’d better be on my way or I’ll be late for dinner.”
She started to walk slowly away from him, but he called out to her.
“Oh Miss Boswell,” he said, fixing her with a menacing stare.
“Yes, Mr Araz,” Zoe stopped in her tracks and faced him as she responded.
Zak Araz stepped closer to Zoe and leaned his face in towards hers. “It’s not a good idea to follow me, you know. It won’t get you a story. It will only bring you pain. Do you understand?” he said, softly and unemotionally.
Zoe gulped and nodded. Her heart was beating furiously as she turned and quickened her step away from the games manufacturer. She practically ran down the street, glancing over her shoulder occasionally to see if he was following her. However, she was also aware and filled with alarm at the thought that if he was, then he could be any shape he wanted to be and she wouldn’t know.
As she got near to the park, a car drew up beside her. The window slowly slid down and a voice said, “Do you want a lift home?”
Zoe drew a deep breath as the car door opened. Her heart was now playing a staccato beat. She stared at the driver, then gave a huge sigh of relief as she recognised Benson. She was about to blurt out that Araz had discovered her following him and had threatened her, when she remembered the code they had agreed on.
“Where’s Felixstowe?” she asked. She was so scared that the silliness of the question now seemed to have gone and it sounded quite sensible.
“At the end of his foot,” was the reply to Zoe’s great relief, and she paid little attention to how ridiculous such an answer might sound to a passer-by. She climbed into the car and collapsed into the front passenger seat, before spilling out her story of the evening to a wide-eyed and shocked Benson.
“You’re not doing it anymore,” said Benson firmly.
“Oh yes I am,” Zoe argued, jutting out her jaw defiantly as she spoke.
“You’ve just had a narrow escape… and he’s threatened you too. Next time you could be killed. I should have used somebody else… someone Araz doesn’t know… somebody in the police force. You’re only a civilian and I’m not supposed to put members of the public in danger. It’s a good job I decided to wait around and catch you tonight, rather than wait until our appointment tomorrow. Goodness knows what might have happened to you.”
Benson looked around to see if there was any sign that Araz was following Zoe.
“It’s okay,” said Zoe soothingly as she tried to placate Benson. She thought for a moment, then said, “At least he doesn’t know why I followed him. He thinks I’m a reporter after a story. But maybe you’re right, on reflection perhaps I shouldn’t do it again as he may well be looking out for me… and from the way he spoke to me, I think he probably would carry out his threat.”
She took a deep breath and sighed before speaking again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I let you down by getting caught and now I’ve messed up all of your plans, haven’t I?”
“No, you haven’t,” replied Benson. “I should have realised that as a shape-shifter he was always going to have the advantage over anyone who followed him. Anyway, your safety is paramount. We can find another way of monitoring him.” He thought for a moment before continuing, “In fact, I’ve got an idea… one that doesn’t put anyone in danger.”
“What is it?” asked Zoe, now intrigued.
“I could try to get an extra CCTV camera mounted on the perimeter wall of the safari park. It could point outwards so it can pick up what’s happening on the footpath and if Araz is the buzzard and becomes the bird again, or anything else for that matter – the camera will see it all and transmit the pictures to our screen. If we can fix the camera so that it can swivel via remote control, then, with the aid of the safari park cameras too, we can follow Araz and see what he’s up to. What do you think?”
Benson looked at Zoe as he spoke, anxious for her approval.
“Sounds good to me,” she said. “But if I were you, I would make the camera as small as possible or at least try to keep it hidden. You wouldn’t want him to notice it, would you? He might decide to find an alternative place to change into whatever.”
*
By the next evening, the camera was in position on the wall surrounding the safari park. It had been a far from simple task for Benson to get its use approved. He’d had to convince his senior officers and the staff at the park. The latter group had proved easier to persuade as they instantly believed the DI’s made-up story of how a gang were going around stealing valuable animals to order from zoos and private collectors, especially when Benson added a bit about them operating at night and that he’d heard word from an informant that they were in the area and were targeting the safari park. The park managers not only gave permission for a camera to be placed on the outer wall, they gave Benson full access to their own internal cameras too.
The DI had a much more difficult task with his superior officers. He told them the same story, but as they would have to cover the cost of the camera equipment out of the police budget, the chief inspector had been reluctant to sanction the deal.
“It’s their responsibility, not ours,” he’d said. “The safari park owners should pay for their own security and maybe erect their own camera. After all, it’s their animals we are trying to protect from would-be thieves and we are providing the men to watch the camera images – so why should we also provide the camera?”
“Because it’s probably quicker and easier for us to set it up ourselves,” Benson had argued. “If we wait for them to do it, we might miss the chance to catch any potential thieves and that would make us look very silly and inept given that we were the ones who provided the information that led to the surveillance in the first place. And it could lead to a lot of questions being asked in high places, with perhaps some heads rolling too.”
Benson had felt a bit uncomfortable in making his arguments as he was the only one in the police station who knew what the cameras were really being used for. He could imagine what the chief inspector would say if he told him the truth, that he wanted to watch a man in case he turned into a bird or some other creature. Benson would be laughed at and probably drummed out of the police force very quickly – that’s if they didn’t decide to commit him to the psychiatric ward of the local hospital first.
He crossed his fingers as he made his pleas to the chief inspector, who was eventually persuaded by the implied threat of possible government action should animals suddenly disappear from the Cristelee Safari Park.
For the next three nights, Benson sat inside the CCTV control room in the safari park, watching activity on a number of TV screens set in the wall of the manager’s office. Each screen covered a different part of the park and the scene was switched regularly on each screen to offer maximum use of camera angles. The newly fitted wall camera had also been connected to the main CCTV circuit.
Animal parks at night time offer a variety of noises, but precious little in the way of animal action. Many of the animals are shut away in buildings within their enclosures, so the only activity that Benson saw was the occasional fox or badger that had wandered into the various compounds to finish off the remains of meals left by the regular occupants during the day. These creatures might be superseded or accompanied by one or two scampering field mice, a scurrying hedgehog or two and, if he was lucky, an owl. Once or twice, the latter made his heart flutter as he couldn’t at first ascertain whether it was a genuine owl or if it was Zak Araz in one of his many guises.
On the fourth night, Benson’s luck changed. At close to midnight, he saw a shadowy figure creeping along the pavement that ran parallel to the perimeter wall. Half asleep, he tried to focus his gaze on the figure’s face as it flitted between shade and the half light shed by a distant streetlamp. He couldn’t really tell if it was Araz or someone else. His mind was quickly made up when the figure suddenly darted into a dense patch of shade, but didn’t appear in the following patch of lighted area. Instead Benson’s eyes picked out a flapping and fluttering of wings, followed by the sight of a buzzard settling on top of the wall. He remembered what Zoe had told him, ‘Buzzards don’t hunt at night’.
“So, that has to be Araz,” he murmured to himself.
As he watched, the buzzard silently took off from the wall and headed across the safari park towards what appeared, from the outline on the horizon, to be a clump of trees in the distance. Benson’s eyes shot swiftly across the TV screens on the wall.
“Where is he?” he whispered to himself. “I’ve got to find him. I can’t let him get away now.”
He ran his gaze over the bank of screens, eyes darting from one to another, straining in vain as they tried to pick out the bird.
“Come on… come on… where are you?” Agitation was clear in Benson’s voice as he frantically searched each transmitted picture in a desperate attempt to gain sight of the flying bird. After a short while, a realisation struck Benson, who in his disappointment muttered, “He doesn’t have to be a bird! Araz could be anything by now.” His eyes continued to desperately scan the bank of TV screens in front of him.
A movement on one of the screens suddenly caught Benson’s roaming eye. He jerked his head back in a swivelling motion so he could settle his full gaze on the picture. It wasn’t a bird, that’s for sure, and there was more than one of whatever it was he was looking at. The grainy, flickering images on the TV monitor showed several tiny creatures scuttling back and forth, and climbing and swinging on tree branches. It took Benson a few minutes to determine that they were monkeys. He watched them for a while thinking it strange that they should not only be out in the open, but that they should also be so animated at this time of night. However, he then decided that what he was witnessing might be quite normal. After all, his knowledge of monkey routines and behaviour was zero.
There was no sign of the buzzard on any of the screens, so Benson kept his eye on the monkeys – partly out of curiosity and partly because he hoped the bird might turn up among them. More monkeys had now appeared and they seemed to be squabbling with each other. Suddenly, a much larger ape came into view and the altercations stopped. The smaller monkeys gathered around the bigger one. It looked as if they were listening.
Benson laughed quietly to himself. “I could do with him in my house when my kids start arguing,” he chortled.
There was no sound on the TV, but Benson could see the big monkey gesturing to the others with its paws. The arm waving was interspersed with occasional chest beating, grimacing and baring of teeth.
Benson had seen similar scenarios in wildlife programmes on TV and while he had no idea what it was all in aid of, he assumed it would be quite common in the wild and that it was probably tribal and hence normal monkey behaviour. He yawned and stretched himself before settling down to resume his screen-watching activities.
Over the next few minutes, however, questions began to creep into Benson’s head and the more he thought about them, the more his suspicions grew. Was it normal for that behaviour to happen at night? Wouldn’t the monkeys usually be sleeping or at least resting at this hour? Why is there just one big monkey among all of those little ones? Why has this commotion and confrontation started at almost the exact moment as the buzzard flew into the park? Does this mean something or is it just coincidence?
DI Chalk’s perpetual words popped up in his head and he could hear his old boss’s disembodied voice saying, ‘I don’t believe in coincidences Benson.’
After twenty minutes or so of watching the action on the screen, Benson saw the big monkey head into the densely wooded area. The small monkeys dispersed in various directions. He continued to watch for a further hour but nothing of importance occurred in that time, so he packed up and went home. Next day, he collected the tapes from the park manager and spent the day scrutinising them from every possible angle.
His search of the footage failed to add to what he already knew from his observations on the previous evening, even though they did raise his suspicions about what might be in the dense woodland area that the big monkey had vanished into. Benson decided it was time for him to go and visit Zak Araz, but he needed to be careful as he didn’t want to give his suspect any clues that he was under investigation. Benson searched his brain to find a legitimate excuse to confront Zak and remembered Zoe telling him about how Jake had got injured while playing ‘Being There’. That would do. He could say he was investigating a complaint.