Megan
Just three days until Christmas. Fort Worth was in a festive frenzy, people rushing around to find last-minute gifts, exchange cookies, and stock up on groceries for their holiday meals. It was mid-afternoon and Brigit and I were working another swing shift. It was also freezing cold outside, the temperatures dipping into single digits once the wind chill was factored in. Mother Nature seemed intent on torturing north Texas today, sending gusts of wind that whipped your exposed skin and threatened to topple anyone out in the weather.
Good thing I’d worn a pair of thermal underwear under my uniform. I’d also brought along a fleece-lined police-dog vest for Brigit. With any luck, she wouldn’t need it. I had no intention of performing any unnecessary foot patrol today. We’d stay in our warm patrol car, thank you very much.
As we waited at a traffic light near the TCU campus, the wind whistling around the cruiser, dispatch came over the radio. “Got a report of a missing monkey at the zoo. Who can respond?”
So much for staying in the car. I finagled the mic from its holder and let dispatch know the crack team of Megan Luz and Sergeant Brigit were on their way. “Officer Luz and Brigit responding.”
As we aimed for the zoo, my mind went in a million different directions. A monkey is missing now? What are the odds the macaws and the monkey escaped on their own? Has the zoo staff been negligent again, or is someone stealing these animals? If so, who and how? Have I been right to be suspicious of Landis?
I parked the cruiser, attached Brigit’s leash, and dressed her in the vest so she wouldn’t get cold. Together, we trotted to the front gate, partly to keep warm, partly to hurry things up. There, we found Sharon Easley, the zoo director who’d fired Danny Landis. She wore a tan parka trimmed with faux fur along with her khakis today. Standing off to the side was the same security officer who’d escorted Landis to the gate after his termination. He paid me no mind. His attention was focused on those leaving the zoo. Janelle watched from her ticket booth. We exchanged nods before I turned to Easley.
The director gave me a quick rundown. “The primatologist on duty noticed one of the colobus monkeys was missing when she went to feed them an hour ago. We had a full count of five at closing last night, but there are only four in the enclosure now. She says it’s the male who’s missing, an eighteen-year-old monkey named Sarki. The security records for the card reader show that the only people who entered the enclosure since last night were one of our veterinarians who was checking on a female with a dental issue and the keeper who reported the monkey missing.”
“And you suspect foul play.” It wasn’t a question, really. She’d summoned law enforcement so she must’ve thought something criminal had taken place.
“It seems that way. The hyacinth macaws have already disappeared, and we can’t see how the monkey could have gotten out of the exhibit on its own.”
When I’d first been paired with Brigit, she’d used several of my shoes for chew toys, and subsequently defeated nearly every security measure I’d taken to protect my remaining pairs. She had also surreptitiously stolen a tennis ball from the woman’s bag at the country club. She held the thing as far back in her mouth as she could, covering it with her jowls. I hadn’t noticed until we’d returned to our cruiser and she dropped it in her enclosure. I decided to let her keep her loot. By that point, it was soaked in dog saliva and the woman probably wouldn’t want it back. Besides, it would be embarrassing to admit my trained partner had committed misdemeanor theft right under my nose. Yep, animals could be clever, crafty, and downright devious when they wanted to be. Of course these zoo professionals knew that as well as I did. In fact, exhibits were designed to take every potential escape route into account and eliminate them. And if one monkey had somehow managed to escape, why hadn’t others escaped, too? Theft seemed the more likely explanation.
“I’d like to take a look at the exhibit and speak to the veterinarian and primatologist.” I also realized it would be a good idea to call the station and speak to one of the detectives. A stolen monkey was unusual, a much bigger matter than the usual petty theft or home burglary. A detective would want to come out and take a look, too.
While Easley used her walkie-talkie to summon the primatologist and veterinarian to the exhibit, I used my phone to call the station.
Detective Hector Bustamente took my call. “What’s up, Officer Luz?”
I gave him a quick synopsis of the situation. A monkey named Sarki had gone AWOL. No means of accidental escape was immediately evident. Given that the pair of macaws had already gone missing, theft was suspected. There definitely seemed to be some monkey business going on.
“I’ll be right there,” Bustamente said.
Ten minutes later, the detective met me, Brigit, and Easley at the zoo’s entrance. Bustamente was a seasoned investigator whose careless appearance was at odds with the careful consideration he applied to his work. He had thick lips, round cheeks, and a winter coat that was snapped closed over his chest but hung open over his midsection. The sides couldn’t quite meet across the roll of flesh he’d accumulated over years spent sitting at a desk, pondering clues and evidence.
We strode quickly to the exhibit, stopping at a viewing area. Given the frigid weather, there were no visitors at the overlook, only the zookeeper and veterinarian, who stood side by side, staring into the habitat, their elbows nearly touching. They turned our way as they heard us approach, and Easley made quick introductions all around. The keeper was a petite woman in her mid to late thirties. Her Italian lineage was evidenced by her dark hair, olive skin, and name—Camilla Bellafiore. The veterinarian, Greg Geer, was a tall, fiftyish guy with a lean runner’s build, a shiny balding head, and eyeglasses in fashionable blue plastic frames.
Camilla’s brown eyes were bright with worry. “We can’t find Sarki anywhere. I don’t even want to think what might have happened to him.”
Greer cringed in a sign of agreement. “I wish I’d realized he was gone when I was here earlier examining Zawadi. We could’ve started our search sooner.”
Their concern for the animal entrusted to their care seemed genuine. I could only imagine the panic I’d feel if Brigit were missing. The mere thought made my skin prickle.
My eyes scanned the exhibit. While it did not have a covering like the aviary to keep animals from escaping out the top, all of the trees inside were contained on an amorphously shaped island of sorts that slanted down on all four sides into a wide, deep gulley. The outer walls of the gulley were high, smooth, and straight, seemingly impossible for this small breed of monkey to climb. At the back of the enclosure stood a mock rock wall, similarly designed with smooth surfaces to be unclimbable. A dark, discolored streak about four feet wide bisected the wall, indicating where a man-made waterfall coursed down the surface in warmer weather. The water had been turned off today, probably due to the risk of the pipes freezing and breaking.
The remaining four colobus monkeys perched on limbs in the center of the stand of trees. They were a beautiful species, mostly black with white tails and white fur encircling their faces. They were also a small species, only slightly longer than human infants at birth. While some of the other animals didn’t like the cold, these monkeys didn’t seem to mind the winter temperatures. Not surprising, I supposed. The informational display on the viewing deck noted they were native to both coastal and mountainous regions in Africa, including Kilimanjaro.
Although it certainly appeared the monkey had been snatched, we nonetheless needed to explore all possibilities to definitively rule out whether the animal had simply absconded on its own. Tarzan used vines to move around the forest. So did Mowgli from The Jungle Book. They’d learned from monkeys, hadn’t they? And all sorts of vines and climbing plants grew wild in Texas. Poison oak. Mustang grape. Honeysuckle. They spread easily, helped along by birds who ate their seeds and berries, depositing them elsewhere at the end of the digestive process. While the back wall of the colobus monkey enclosure was smooth, it was built with vertical angles to give it a more natural appearance. Not all of the faces were visible from where we stood.
I turned to the keeper. “Could some kind of vine have grown along the back wall?”
“I looked the enclosure over carefully,” Camilla said. “There’s no vegetation Sarki could have used for climbing. No growths or damage that would allow him to get a foothold, either.”
Looked like he hadn’t climbed it like a rock wall, either.
Bustamente turned to Camilla. “How far can these monkeys jump?”
“A long way,” she said. “Up to fifty feet from a tree. They bounce off the limbs, use them like trampolines. But this enclosure is designed so all of the trees are more than fifty feet from the outer boundary.”
After taking another sweeping glance around the enclosure, the detective asked, “How long has Sarki lived here?”
“More than a decade,” Camilla said. “I’ve worked here ten years and he was already living here when I started.”
The detective’s head bobbed as he mulled over the information. “Is there any reason why he’d try to make a break now? Has anything changed recently? Has there been some type of threat, or maybe something outside the habitat he’d find particularly enticing?”
“Nothing I can think of.” She looked up at Greer. “What about you, Greg?”
I noticed she’d said “Greg,” not “Doctor Greer.” Though it was common for colleagues to be on a first-name basis and forgo formal titles, I wondered whether the two might have a personal relationship.
When the detective turned his gaze on Greer, the veterinarian affirmed Camilla’s assessment. “I’m not aware of anything, either.”
Bustamente gestured into the habitat as he posed another question to the keeper. “How do you get in there to feed them?”
“There’s a staff door around back,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
Camilla led our assorted parade on a downward-sloping path around the side of the enclosure. She stopped at a six-foot wooden privacy fence with a sign on the gate that read ZOO STAFF ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. Like Danny Landis, Camilla wore a staff ID card on a lanyard around her neck. She swiped her card through the secured-access device and the lock opened with a click. The rest of us followed her through. Camilla stepped back to the gate to ensure it had latched.
We stood in a small concrete courtyard that was enclosed by a wooden fence and contained only a seasonally decommissioned snow-cone stand parked to the side. Camilla headed to a heavy iron gate set in a brick wall at the back.
Rather than risk frightening the monkeys, I ordered Brigit to sit and stay by the snow-cone stand, giving her a head ruffle to show I appreciated her obedience. “I’ll be back soon.”
Camilla led us through the iron gate into an enclosed walkway flanked by brick walls. Glass skylights had been installed in the roof to provide natural lighting in the space.
I pointed up. “Has anyone checked the skylights?”
“Yes,” Easley said. “None are loose.”
It had been a long shot, anyway. The glass panels would be heavy to lift. A small monkey probably couldn’t do it on his own. Besides, he would have only made it this far if he’d found his way past the interior gate at the far end of the passage.
As we made our way down to the end of the walk, Camilla gestured to the doors on either side. “The left door leads to the storage area where the monkeys’ food is kept. The door on the right leads to an exam room where the vets treat them. There’re also small cages where we put the monkeys when they’re sick.”
She opened each door and gave me and the detective a glimpse inside. The storage room contained a refrigerator stocked with spinach, kale, and other dietary staples for this species of monkey. The space on the right contained an examination table topped with Formica, storage cabinets, and several tall cages.
Bustamente pointed to the cabinets, which had old-fashioned key locks built into them and were large enough to house a small monkey. “What’s in there?”
“Medicines and medical supplies,” the vet said.
Bustamente cocked his head. “Mind if Officer Luz and I take a peek?”
“No problem.” Greer stepped into the space and unlocked each of the cabinets, revealing small bottles of pills and liquids, syringes, and other items similar to what one would find in a doctor’s office, but no monkey.
After we’d taken a look at the rooms, Camilla turned to the inner gate. “This leads into the monkeys’ enclosure.”
Like the outer gate, this gate was secured by a card reader and bordered by brick on the top and sides. In other words, there’d be no way to go over, under, or around the gates without going through the brick or concrete floor. Nowhere on the route had the brick or concrete shown signs of damage or repair. All of the card readers had appeared intact, too. Ditto for the locks.
Camilla stood by the gate until we had all made it through, and closed it behind us, giving it a tug to make sure it had latched just as she’d done with the previous gates. I glanced back to see if there was a security device on the inside of the enclosure. Bustamente did the same, our gazes meeting as we turned our heads. The detective lifted his chin to acknowledge my actions. He’d always said I had good instincts.
Though a manual lock release was in place, there was no electronic security system on the inside of the gates. In other words, while a badge was needed to enter this area, none was needed to exit. The arrangement was typical in commercial structures, designed so people would not be trapped in the event of a fire or other emergency.
Greer stepped up beside Camilla. “Why don’t I keep an eye on the monkeys while you show them around?”
“Good idea,” Easley said.
The detective and I followed the three zoo professionals farther into the enclosure. I found myself staring out across the space toward the visitor viewing decks, wondering what it would be like to live on display like this, with people watching you go about your life. I looked up into the carefully designed forest and saw four sets of eyes looking back at me, waiting to see what I might do next. So this is what it feels like. Of course spectators wouldn’t be much interested in watching me eat organic oatmeal in the morning, issue traffic tickets all day, and read books in bed at night.
While the veterinarian stood near the trees and watched the monkeys watch us, Camilla took us on a tour of the enclosure. She explained that the base of the back wall was several feet thick, and showed us the small opening cut into the wall that led to a cave of sorts, offering the monkeys a private location to spend time out of the public eye. As she’d said, the wall appeared devoid of any vines or footholds that Sarki could have used to climb out. We ambled down the concrete slope into the gulley, circumnavigating from one end of the horseshoe-shaped ditch to the other. Again, no vines or footholds were evident along the outer walls. No signs of damage, either. All I saw were dry, brown leaves that had blown into the enclosure and the occasional small mass of dark, slimy poop evidencing the monkeys’ high-fiber diet.
Looking up, I mused aloud. “Someone could have come over the back wall on a rope or ladder. Or they could have lowered a rope or ladder into the channel from one of the viewing areas.” Once inside, they’d have been able to seize the monkey and go back the way they’d come, or easily exit through the gates.
“Possibly.” Bustamente cut me a sideways glance that said he had other theories, as well. He turned his gaze on the keeper. “Who came in with you when you fed them earlier?”
“Nobody,” Camilla said. “I take care of the feeding alone.”
He pressed on. “Is there any chance someone could have followed you through the gate without your knowledge?”
“No.” Her tone was confident. “I always check to make sure the gates have closed behind me.”
She’d done exactly that when she’d led us into the enclosure. It seemed to be a natural habit for her.
Easley chimed in on the subject. “Checking the gates is part of zoo protocol.”
Bustamente dipped his head. “I see. Good rule.” As we circled back around to the gate to exit, the veterinarian fell in line with us. The detective asked him essentially the same questions. “Who came in with you when you examined the female monkey? Did you bring an assistant?”
“No,” Greer replied. “It was just me. These monkeys are small and docile, so I can handle a single specimen on my own. Of course it’s a different story when I’m dealing with a chimp or gorilla.”
“Could someone have followed you into the enclosure without your knowledge?”
“Absolutely not,” the vet said. “I always try the gates to make sure they’re shut all the way after I use them.”
As we stopped in front of the gate, a question popped into my head and out of my mouth. “What would happen if someone forced the gate open from the outside?”
Easley answered my question by pointing at two thin sensors, one mounted at the top of the brick wall, the other mounted on the outer surface of the metal gate. “Those sensors detect when the gate has been opened. An alarm would sound if it was opened from the outside without a key card.” She pointed up to a speaker mounted above the gate. “The system would also send an immediate notification to the security team.”
Given that neither safety alert had been activated, as well as the fact that none of the locks appeared damaged, it seemed we could rule out that someone had come through the gate without a key card. Even so, they could have exited without one.
The detective glanced around one last time before turning to the director. “I think Officer Luz and I have seen all we need to see here.”
We ascended the walkway, Easley and Greer taking the lead, with Camilla closing and checking the gates behind us. Brigit stood and wagged her tail, glad to see me return to the courtyard.
As I rounded up my partner, Bustamente asked a final question of the zoo staff. “Did you take the monkeys anywhere today other than the enclosure or the exam room?”
Each of them answered in the negative. But were they telling the truth? Or was one—or both—of them lying?