‘An insect zoo in the middle of hipster central?’ Harris remarked early the next day as he took in the zoo’s minimalist glass exterior against the background of the bohemian neighbourhood of East Village. ‘I guess even bugs need their artisanal coffee fix.’
The two officers walked through the main doors and both approached the reception desk.
‘We’re here to see Professor Alan Regan,’ Harris said, flashing his ID to the young woman working there.
The receptionist’s eyes widened. ‘Oh. I think he’s giving a talk at the moment to children.’
‘Where?’ Ru asked.
‘The amphitheatre.’ She looked at the clock. ‘If you can just wait here for five minutes, he’ll be finished soon.’
The two men took seats nearby, Harris looking nervously at Ru’s phone as they did. ‘Still no word from the captain, then, after last night?’
‘Nothing.’
‘That’s good … I guess.’
‘Haworth texted me, though.’
‘Oh yeah. What did she say?’
‘Three words. You fucking idiot.’
Harris smiled. ‘Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.’
Ru knew confronting the captain had been a risk – a calculated intrusion born from necessity, not impulse. Nils’s premature release was unacceptable.
‘You can’t get kicked off this case, Hoshino,’ Harris said. ‘We really felt the gap when you weren’t around.’
‘You seemed to manage fine.’
‘No, remember the Whitman homicide?’
Ru remembered reading about it. It had been a complicated affair involving a series of burglaries along one of New York’s most prestigious streets, culminating in the murder of a prominent judge, Ronald Whitman.
‘Well, it was a complete mess.’ Harris ran a hand over his bald head, a gesture Ru had come to associate with his frustration. ‘No clear motive, no witnesses, and the judge’s crime scene was contaminated by first responders. It was like trying to piece together a puzzle blindfolded without you.’
‘You’re doing yourself a disservice,’ Ru said. ‘You figured out who did it in the end. The cleaner, right?’
As all the burglaries took place just after three in the morning, it was eventually tracked down to a former boxer turned cleaner who worked the early hours shift at a hotel at the end of the street.
‘Yeah, about three months after you would’ve,’ Harris said. ‘You would’ve seen the patterns we missed. Haworth said the same.’
‘I’m not so sure.’
‘Come on! Remember those arsons a couple of years back? We were stumped until you dug up those ancient city planning documents.’
Ru remembered spending nights poring over dusty maps and crumbling blueprints until a pattern emerged – a network of forgotten tunnels snaking beneath the city, perfectly aligning with the arson sites.
‘Anybody can read old maps,’ he said.
‘It wasn’t just old maps,’ Harris said. ‘It was understanding the arsonist’s psychology, his need to leave a mark on history. You used it to predict his movements. Man,’ he said, smiling as he shook his head, ‘I still remember that, waiting for him in the dark, underground … like something out of a movie.’
Ru remembered that night, too, the damp air of the tunnels, the sound of their own breath echoing off the walls. They had intercepted the arsonist moments before he could strike again.
‘We couldn’t have done it without you,’ Harris said.
‘You’re the one who tackled him to the floor,’ Ru said.
‘Look, all I’m trying to say is, we need you. These victims need you. But now you’ve gone and messed things up by playing the rebel, just like you did last time. You need to get it in your thick skull,’ he said, gently tapping Ru’s head, ‘that you’re a police detective, not a James Dean wannabe.’
Ru remained silent, his gaze steady and thoughtful. He wanted to tell Harris that sometimes acts of rebellion were also acts of policing. But he knew it would be futile. Harris, for all his experience and insight, viewed the world through a different lens.
So Ru just nodded. ‘Understood, Harris,’ he said. ‘I promise to behave. Now, let’s find this insect professor, shall we? I think our five minutes are up.’
They both stood back up and the receptionist quickly pressed a button, allowing them to walk through the turnstiles. As Ru strolled down the corridor, he absorbed every detail. He had enjoyed visiting such places as a child, a chance to add layers to his inner knowledge library. It seemed zoos had changed in his time, though. The place was laid out with open-concept habitats and interactive displays. Glass terrariums hung suspended from ceilings, each a self-contained world of crawling, fluttering life. Neon lighting illuminated the pathways, lending an avant-garde feel to the place.
‘Fuck me, look at that one,’ Harris exclaimed, pointing at a giant centipede in a glass container suspended above his head. ‘Looks like something out of a horror movie! The way it moves,’ he added, shuddering as he watched the centipede slowly slink along.
Ru watched in fascination, taking in its multitude of legs which moved in a mesmerising, undulating wave. ‘Amazing, how nature creates such diverse forms and functions. Every pattern, every movement has a purpose.’
‘Purpose or not, I wouldn’t want any in my house,’ Harris said.
Ru stopped in front of a terrarium housing a colony of ants. ‘Such social insects,’ he mused. ‘Each individual might seem insignificant, but together they create complex societies, not unlike humans.’
‘Maybe you can learn something off ’em. Like coming for drinks Saturday night?’
‘You mean tomorrow?’ Ru asked. Harris nodded. ‘You know how I feel about social gatherings, Harris. In fact, they remind me of ant colonies: noisy and chaotic with everyone scrambling for a piece of the cake. I’ve always found solitude to be … more enlightening.’
Harris shook his head, smiling. ‘A simple “no” would be fine, Hoshino.’
They continued walking until they found themselves at the edge of a small amphitheatre. A gathering of schoolkids sat on the steps, their eyes glued to a figure at the centre: Professor Alan Regan, Ru presumed. The professor was a predictably eccentric-looking man, with a shock of unruly silver hair, round glasses perched precariously on his nose, and a vibrant bow tie adorned with beetle motifs. He was holding a large, shiny beetle in his hand as the schoolchildren stared at it in fascination.
‘Now, children,’ he said in a southern accent, his voice booming around the theatre, ‘this here is Arnie the titan beetle, one of the largest beetles in the world. He can grow up to six and a half inches!’
Harris leaned over to Ru and whispered, ‘That thing’s bigger than the hotdogs they sell at the Yankee Stadium.’
Professor Regan continued, oblivious to the detectives’ presence. ‘But what’s truly fascinating is their jaw strength. Arnie’s jaws are so powerful they can snap a pencil in half or even cut into human flesh!’
The kids gasped, some in horror, others in awe. Harris winced, rubbing his fingers together unconsciously.
‘Did you also know that adult titan beetles don’t eat?’ the professor went on, his eyes gleaming. ‘They spend their larval stage – that’s when they’re young – eating and growing underground. But once they become adults, they have only one purpose: to find a mate.’
‘Sounds like half the guys at the precinct after payday,’ Harris murmured to Ru.
As the talk concluded, the kids clapped enthusiastically, clearly enraptured by the doctor’s words. Ru watched as Professor Regan interacted with them, answering questions and showing off various specimens. The man’s passion for these beetles was clear, which made the idea of his willingness to sell the object of his passion on the dark web all the more infuriating.
As the last of the schoolchildren exited, Ru and Harris descended the auditorium steps, their footsteps echoing around the space. Professor Regan was meticulously packing away his specimens as they approached.
‘Professor Regan?’ Ru asked.
The professor looked up with a smile. ‘Yes?’
‘I’m Detective Ru Hoshino, and this is Detective Harris. We’re leading the investigation into the murder of Cordelia Montgomery.’
The professor blinked in shock. ‘Cordelia Montgomery? The – the actress? What a tragedy! She had such talent. But why are you two here, speaking to me about it?’
‘That’s what we’re hoping you can help us with, Prof,’ Harris chimed in. ‘We’ve got a few questions that need answering.’
Professor Regan’s eyes darted between the two detectives. ‘I’m not sure how I could be of any assistance, but please, ask away.’
Ru drew his phone out from his pocket and presented the doctor with the screen grabs he’d taken of his forum posts. ‘These look familiar to you?’
Professor Regan’s face paled. ‘I – I’ve never seen these before,’ he stammered.
Ru could tell he was lying. He sighed. If only humans possessed the straightforwardness of beetles. Their lives, driven by instinct and purpose, lack the convolutions of deceit and moral ambiguity people so often grapple with.
‘Interesting choice of username, don’t you think?’ Harris asked. ‘ChrysinaResplendens70, I mean?’
The professor shifted uneasily on his feet. ‘Well, of course, they’re a fascinating species of scarab beetle.’
‘Funny that,’ Harris said, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘‘Cause the kind of insects this ChrysinaResplendens70 fella seems to offer are suspiciously like the types of creepy-crawlies you’d find in a zoo like this. In fact, someone in your esteemed position would have easy access to these kinda bugs, wouldn’t they?’
‘And with the financial allure of such a trade,’ Ru added, ‘it’s not a stretch to imagine someone on an academic wage being tempted.’
The professor’s face turned bright red. ‘I have dedicated my life to the study and preservation of these creatures. To even suggest such a thing is absurd.’
Ru had to give it to the professor. He was holding on tight to his obvious lie. Maybe the dark web’s ability to shroud users in layers of anonymity was giving the professor a false sense of security, like he was in a unique, protected bubble.
Ru wanted to burst that bubble.
He took a step closer to the professor, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp. ‘Have you heard of NovaScope Forensics?’
The professor shook his head. ‘No, should I have?’
‘It’s a brand-new forensic firm we’re working with,’ Ru explained. ‘The lead there is the best in the business when it comes to digital forensics. With people like her, and advances in artificial intelligence, it’s not possible to hide yourself behind layers of encryption anymore. Every piece of data, every byte transferred leaves a trace, like a beetle leaving behind its tracks.’
Professor Regan’s face paled as he listened, revealing that he was clearly out of his depth with the intricacies of digital technology.
Harris put his large hand on the professor’s shoulder. ‘Let me translate for you. What Detective Hoshino is trying to say is by cooperating now, it might mean the difference between several years in prison and just a few … or hell, if you’re lucky, maybe even probation.’
The professor’s eyes widened in shock and he was quiet for a few moments. Then he took in a deep sigh. ‘I … I never thought it would come to this,’ he said quietly. ‘I just wanted to share my passion, to make a difference in the world of entomology. It was never about money, I swear.’
Ru and Harris exchanged a look.
‘So you are ChrysinaResplendens70, then?’ Harris asked him. The professor nodded.
‘So you illegally stole insects from your employer,’ Ru said, ‘to then illegally sell on the dark web?’ He thought of what Vanessa had said the evening before. ‘You’re essentially trafficking in stolen life for profit?’
‘I – no,’ the professor stammered unconvincingly.
‘Let’s start with who your broker is,’ Ru said.
The professor swallowed nervously, looking around the theatre. ‘His name is Edgar Trent. But please, this cannot come back to me.’
The two detectives glanced at one another. The name didn’t ring a bell.
‘When does Mr Trent usually do business with these rare specimens?’ Ru asked.
‘They have auctions,’ the professor said in a low, shaky voice.
‘When?’ Harris asked.
‘Well, we are told not to—’
‘When?’ Harris pushed.
The professor sighed. ‘On the last Friday of every month at a Red Hook warehouse in Brooklyn, 7 p.m. sharp.’
Harris raised an eyebrow. ‘So that’s tonight, then?’
The professor nodded. ‘But please, do not reveal to anyone I told you.’
‘You seem fearful,’ Ru observed. ‘Is this because you fear those who run these auctions?’
‘I promise you, I have absolutely no idea who runs them,’ the professor stuttered. ‘There is never anyone of any seniority at these things, from what I can tell. But it would seem reasonable, considering the—’ he swallowed, ‘the more underground nature of these things that one wouldn’t be wrong to fear consequences of sharing the date and time of an event patrons have very specifically been advised not to share.’
‘I think we need to attend this auction,’ Ru said.
‘Brooklyn baby,’ Harris said as he got his handcuffs out to bring the professor in, ‘here we come!’
Ru pushed through the glass doors of the precinct with Harris after they’d checked the professor in. He’d probably be released on bail the same day, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t face some time for illegal insect trading. As Ru and Harris walked into the squad room, a conspicuous silence fell over the area. Heads popped up from behind monitors, conversations dwindled into whispers, and the clack of keyboards softened. It was the kind of reception that made it clear news had travelled fast; they all knew about Ru gatecrashing the captain’s dinner.
‘Oh, great, you’re back,’ Ramos said when she noticed them. ‘Just had a call. Maximilian did receive the watch as a gift. We found a gift box just like the one from the Rhoda Matheson scene. It was in a bin by his apartment block’s shared pool. We found a note too. Exactly the same as the one from Bowman’s place, apart from the name.’
‘Good work,’ Ru said.
‘Also, Bronagh Thompson sent an email over about some YouTuber called AuthenticAegis?’
Ru nodded. ‘I saw the email.’
‘I had a look and it’s interesting, for sure,’ Bouchier said, joining them. ‘But probably just one of many nutjobs.’
‘Understood. Thank you both for looking into it.’
‘Another thing—’ Ramos began.
‘Christ, Ramos,’ Harris said, ‘you eaten Duracells for breakfast?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘No, just trying to get in as much work as I can before going into early labour because of the stress of you,’ she said, glaring at Ru.
‘Agreed,’ another voice chimed in. It was Haworth, brown eyes sparking with anger. ‘What the hell were you thinking, pulling a stunt like last night, Hoshino? I put my neck on the line bringing you in on this case and this is how you repay me?’
‘None of that is important,’ Ru said. ‘What’s important is the auction tonight.’
‘What auction?’ Captain Williams had just stepped into the room, his arms folded over his barrel chest as he watched Ru. Ru’s impassive gaze met the captain’s.
‘An illegal insect auction,’ Ru explained. ‘There’s one taking place this evening.’
‘And you’re planning to send Hoshino?’ Williams asked Haworth.
Haworth hesitated a moment then nodded. ‘Yes.’
He shook his head. ‘Absolutely not.’
A few eyebrows went up around the room. Ru took a breath to calm himself. The captain still seemed convinced there was nothing to the insect angle.
Williams pointed towards Bouchier. ‘Why not send another officer? Like that pretty little thing over there?’
There was a brief silence, the young officer’s face flushing as she tried to figure out how to respond.
‘Pretty little thing. Quite an archaic perspective, Captain,’ Ru said. ‘And that happens to be Detective Bouchier from the Manhattan South Homicide Squad.’
The captain’s face reddened, a vein on his forehead becoming more pronounced. Harris flinched as Ramos pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head.
‘But you’re correct,’ Ru continued, ‘it probably shouldn’t be me. There is someone else who might be suitable.’
‘Who?’ the captain asked.
‘Dr Vanessa Marwood,’ Ru said. ‘The insect expert we’ve brought in to work the case. It’s unlikely the Thorsens themselves will be there, so she won’t be recognised, and her knowledge of insects will allow her to make note of any illegally obtained insects.’
‘It does make sense, actually,’ Haworth said. ‘By pinning the Thorsens down with the illegal insect trading, it gives us more power to question them in relation to the murders, too.’
‘As long as we’re not interrupted mid-interrogation,’ Ru said.
Haworth groaned, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation.
The captain took a long, deep breath through his flared nostrils. ‘Detective Hoshino,’ he said. ‘My office. Now.’
Captain Williams marched out into the corridor with the fierce stride of a charging rhinoceros beetle, commanding every inch of space around him. Ru followed him, Ramos mouthing ‘be good’ as he passed her. Officers glanced up as they passed, a mixture of curiosity in their eyes. Some even offered a nod to Ru, maybe a gesture of solidarity.
Ru eventually reached the captain’s office at the end of the corridor. Its walls were adorned with photos of handshakes with the city’s elite, plaques of commendation, and memorabilia from high-profile cases. The captain’s irritation was clear as he sat on his chair and faced Ru from across his large desk. ‘Bursting into my daughter’s celebration, Hoshino?’ His voice was a controlled rumble, the anger simmering just below the surface.
Ru met his gaze evenly. ‘There were concerns that needed addressing, Captain. About the release of Nils Thorsen.’
Captain Williams snorted, leaning back against his desk. ‘Concerns? Based on what? You have no concrete evidence against Nils Thorsen, and I had his law firm’s director – rumoured to be a future Attorney General – on my back. What would you have me do, Hoshino? Jeopardise the precinct’s standing on a hunch? You can’t possibly understand the complexities of my job. The careful balance I must maintain.’
Recalling Harris’s cautionary advice, Ru chose his next words carefully. ‘I do understand the pressures, Captain. However, dismissing …’
The captain cut him off with a wave of his hand. ‘That’s enough said about last night except for one thing.’ He leaned forward, hard eyes squarely on Ru. ‘Never pull that act again. If you do, your career in the NYPD really will be over. I have been more than patient with you because – as much as it frustrates me to admit it – you are a superb detective. But frankly, my patience is wearing thin. Very thin. Understood?’
Ru nodded. ‘Understood.’
He leaned back, satisfied. ‘So this auction. It seems your insect theory might have legs, if you excuse the pun. Once again, Hoshino, you’ve made yourself frustratingly indispensable after the stunt you pulled last night. It’s clear from what I’ve seen in NovaScope’s report about the hair clip, and the watch, that whoever’s doing this has some kind of insect fetish. But are you convinced this bug doctor is the best person to send?’ the captain asked. ‘Plus, it could be dangerous for her.’
Ru thought about that impulsive suggestion of his for a moment. Part of him recognised a desire to keep Vanessa close to this case. Why did he have such a need? Maybe he recognised something in her – a kindred spirit, perhaps, a relentless pursuit of truth that mirrored his own. Or maybe it was her unique perspective, her ability to see beyond the surface details to the intricate patterns beneath. Or perhaps it was just that hunch – something instinctive about where this case was leading. Whatever it was, Ru couldn’t deny that Vanessa’s involvement brought an invaluable dimension to the investigation. She wasn’t just another detective or scientist; she was a catalyst, transforming every piece of evidence into a significant lead. ‘Yes, I am convinced.’