The Only Clue

by Pamela Beason

  How could he categorize these samples at the station? He couldn’t ask for processing on a random sample. He’d need a case, or at least an incident report of some kind.

  Grace stood a few feet away, quietly sniffling. “I have blood work on both Neema and Gumu, so we could match if you can get a lab report. I know I should pay for that, but there’s just no money. We were making a fair amount from the paintings, but now—”

  She didn’t need to say it. No gorillas, no paintings. An absurd thought popped into his head. Could he fake a few gorilla paintings? Both Neema and Gumu painted in a loose abstract style; at best their works could be called impressions of flowers or landscapes. Surely he could copy... He stopped himself there. Crazy idea. He was already walking a dangerous path by not reporting this crime, and now he was considering fraud?

  “If you can get a report, then we can see which gorilla—” Grace’s voice broke. She left the sentence unfinished.

  Was she envisioning the same gorilla corpse he saw in his imagination? A huge black furry body tossed out in a ditch alongside a road, or maybe crammed into a commercial garbage dumpster. He had to ask. “Could this be personal, Grace?”

  “Personal?”

  “Do you know anyone who would like to see you lose everything?”

  She reflected on the question for a few seconds. “Just Keyes, at least that I know of. But some people despise scientists who show the world how similar apes are to humans. Remember those signs from yesterday.”

  She twisted the handkerchief in her hands. “I don’t want to know which gorilla the blood came from, but I need to. I have to.” She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob.

  “The department works on livestock rustling cases. We match blood to animals all the time.”

  He’d solved one such case just last year, although unfortunately not before the hogs had been turned into hams and pork chops. “I’ll think of a way to pass these samples off in that category.”

  But everyone at the station would want to know which rancher was missing what animal. Nothing stayed secret for long in Evansburg.

  “That won’t work,” she said, mirroring his thoughts. She folded and refolded his handkerchief, thinking. “This needs to be connected with a stranger, maybe someone at the open house.”

  Finn snapped his fingers, warming to the idea. “A stranger brought a dog, a valuable one, and it’s missing. He found this bloodstain—well, not this one.” He pointed to the large blood puddle. “A small one, in your front parking lot. He wants to know whether someone ran over his dog.”

  “Ran over? That’s horrible.” She made a face, but then said, “That could work. And nobody in town is going to care much about the claim of someone just passing through.”

  Like Finn, Grace was a newcomer to the area. It could take a couple of generations to be truly accepted here.

  Finn focused on the scene again. Divots in the sawdust floor may or may not have been footprints. Parallel marks streaked through the sawdust from the blood pool toward the door as if a body had been dragged across the floor. The track marks disappeared in the gravel of the parking area.

  Switching his camera to video mode, he pivoted in a slow circle, recording the whole interior of the building. Toys of all sizes, tire swings, shelves, tree trunks. Leaves of every description and clumps of pine needles and whole branches were tucked into every crevice and scattered across the floor. He couldn’t decipher what might pertain to a crime and what were signs of normal gorilla behavior. There was no way to tell how many people had broken in, and no way to tell what happened after that.

  Turning to Grace, he asked, “Is anything missing?”

  “Three gorillas.” She smiled wanly, her eyes glimmering with tears.

  “Besides that. Or is there anything here that usually isn’t?” Sometimes perps inadvertently left objects behind.

  She walked slowly around the interior of the building, scrutinizing every inch. “I don’t see anything. All this greenery is nesting material and food. We use it to create a more natural environment for the gorillas.”

  To Finn, it was just one giant mess. Which was, in his experience, the normal state the gorillas lived in.

  He couldn’t discern any shoe prints in the lumpy sawdust inside the building or in the gravel beyond the open door, but he took several photos anyway before he stepped out. Only Grace’s van was parked in the small lot. Sounding closer now, Jon Zyrnek’s calls emanated from the forest to the east of Grace’s property. “Neema! Strawberries! Gumu! Neema!”

  Dark clouds scudded by overhead to stack up against the mountains to the west. He needed to find and document any evidence that might be washed away by rain.

  Loose gravel was not a good medium for capturing tread marks. He took photos of the few impressions he found, including his measuring tape in each image for scale. “I’ll need photos of all the cars that normally park back here to compare with these. Close-ups of their tire treads. License plate numbers, too.”

  “I’ll get those for you.”

  He was glad she didn’t ask why he needed license plate numbers. He’d use them to check on ownership, see if others among her staff had relationships with criminals.

  Grace crouched to focus on a spot on the ground.

  He joined her. “Got something?”

  Her hand hovered over a patch of dusty gravel. “It’s just that”—she pointed to a faint rounded depression—“and those”—she moved her finger toward a few smudges to the right of the first—“look a little like gorilla toes.”

  Finn suspected that was hope speaking. He didn’t see anything that looked remotely like a foot or toe print. Then he remembered that Neema’s feet were more like hands, with the big toe angled sideways like a thumb, the toes curved over like fingers. Maybe those were gorilla footprints.

  Grace shifted her gaze farther ahead. “And these”—moving her hand from side to side, she pointed to a couple of smudges that could have been anything—“could be knuckles.”

  Zyrnek appeared, walking around from the side of the barn. He’d combed his hair into a ponytail and fastened it with a rubber band. He gave Finn a sarcastic salute. “I’ve been waiting as ordered, sir. FYI: It’s been a couple of hours.”

  To Grace, he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t see any signs of gorillas in the woods.”

  She nodded, disappointed.

  “I didn’t go too far,” Zyrnek added. “And if they’re running away, they could be moving fast.”

  Was the kid trying to give her hope, or stalling for time to move the gorillas farther away? A few fat raindrops spattered dark splotches on their clothing. Finn looked up at the darkening skies, which could open up any second.

  “I’ll go search too, in a few minutes. Z, did you ever bring Neema or Gumu back here?” Grace wiped at the wet spots on her shoulders as if she could brush them away.

  Zyrnek looked surprised. “Yeah, sure, lots of times. Like when we loaded her into the van or something.”

  Grace’s expression crumpled into despair. “Yes. Of course. So these prints are meaningless.”

  Zyrnek studied her. “You okay, Boss?”

  “How could I be?” Her voice trembled.

  “I sorta need to know...what’s the plan? What do I tell the rest of the staff?”

  Her face went stiff. “Jesus! What am I going to tell the staff? They can’t know either.” She bunched the front of her shirt in a fist and threw a look of panic in Finn’s direction. “I’ve got to cancel all their shifts.”

  He could see that it was going to be a challenge to keep three missing gorillas a secret.

  She suggested uncertainly, “Maybe one of the gorillas is sick?”

  “Why would that make them stay away?” Finn asked.

  “I have the flu,” Zyrnek volunteered.

  “Oh, no.” Grace studied the kid’s face. “When did you start feeling sick?”

  Zyrnek’s expression was pained. “Not really. But if I have the flu, then the st
aff all got exposed yesterday and they could pass it to the gorillas, or the gorillas could pass it to them. So I’m in quarantine in the staff trailer and the rest of them need to stay away until the incubation period has passed.”

  She relaxed. “That’s an excellent plan. Thanks.”

  Zyrnek wiped a raindrop from his forehead. He shifted his gaze to Finn. “Anything I can help you with?”

  Finn was not about to share any information with the kid. Zyrnek was already too savvy about skirting the law. “Can’t think of anything. If you can keep this off the radar, then we’ve got it covered for now.”

  The youth narrowed his eyes. “Right.” He turned his back to Finn. “I’ll go call everyone now, Grace.”

  “Be careful what you tell them,” Finn warned.

  The kid snapped off another sideways salute as he walked away. If Grace hadn’t been there, Zyrnek would probably have extended his middle finger. He seemed too quick on his feet. Had he been thinking about this very scenario awhile? Finn would have to interview all the staff to get a fix on who was where last night. And do it all somehow without letting them know about the missing gorillas, he reminded himself. Why had he agreed to this ridiculous scheme?

  The wind gusted harder through the trees. They were about to retire to the barn when the rumble of a diesel engine caught their attention, and both he and Grace turned to peer down the back driveway. A flatbed truck pulled out of the trees into the gravel lot. The sign on the cab read Samuels Sanitation Services. The driver’s window slid down and the ruddy bald-headed man spoke to Finn. “Sorry I’m late to pick up the shitcans.”

  Grace walked around the cab. “I forgot you were coming this morning.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t see you there.” The driver’s round face turned a deeper shade of red, and he slapped the gloves across his other hand. “Okay if I back up into position?” With a sideways twist of his head, he indicated the space to the side of the barn.

  Grace glanced at Finn.

  “Sure.” He’d captured all the photos he needed for now.

  The driver positioned the truck and slid out of the cab. Nate was embroidered in white over the right side pocket of his blue coveralls. He held a pair of heavy duty orange rubber gloves in one hand. A sullen-looking teenage boy slumped in the passenger seat.

  “You drove up this same road and parked in this lot yesterday?” Finn asked.

  “Yessir. We delivered around eight a.m., just as requested.”

  The road was a back way into Grace’s compound, accessed through the woods, barricaded with a locked gate and normally used only by her staff.

  “There wasn’t a lock on the gate?” Finn asked.

  Nate held a hand over his eyes to shield them from the rain. “Yessir. Hanging on the gate looking like it was closed, but open, just like that young feller told me he’d leave it. Did he say his name was Zeke?”

  “Did you lock it when you left?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we did.”

  “Was the gate unlocked this morning?” Finn asked.

  “Yep. Figured that was so I could come through again.” Nate swallowed and glanced toward Grace. “I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

  She shook her head.

  He pulled on his gloves. “Anyhow, sorry I’m late. This wind is bringing branches down all over the place, and my worker from yesterday didn’t show this morning.” He rapped on the front of the truck. “C’mon, son. The sooner you get moving, the sooner we’ll be out of the rain.”

  The teen slid from the passenger door, carefully tucking his IPod into his coveralls. Earbuds plugged both ears. Turning toward Grace, the driver rolled his eyes. “We’ll be outa here in a jiffy, ma’am. Thanks for hiring Samuels Sanitation Service.” He nodded in her direction and then pulled a lever. A hydraulic Tommy Lift platform ratcheted down from the rear of the truck.

  As Nate and son gathered the johns, Finn and Grace turned back to hastily complete their examination of the barn’s exterior. The padlock was nowhere to be found. Grace said she was the only one with a key, and it was on the ring attached to her belt. Finn hunched over his kit, trying to keep it dry as he dusted the latch and peeled off several partials. “I’ll need the prints of everyone who might have touched this.”

  “You can take mine today. I’ll find a way to ask Josh when he gets back. And you already have most of the staff’s prints.”

  “True.” Prints from the three ARU defendants were on file, and so were Brittany Morgan’s. All four had court records.

  Grace spent most of her time with criminals, even if they were minor ones. Now, with this cover-up of real crime and invention of a fictional one, he was in danger of joining their ranks.

  Chapter 5

  Grace pulled on a waterproof jacket and insisted on searching the surrounding woods despite the wind, while Finn finally sat down to talk to Jon Zyrnek. The passing time chafed at him. If he’d called in the case right away, a tech could have gathered evidence while he interviewed the staff. If the gorillas had escaped, they could be dozens of miles away by now. If they’d been stolen, that distance could be hundreds of miles.

  When he entered the staff trailer, Zyrnek was sitting at a tiny kitchenette table with a cell phone to his ear. He pulled it away, punched a button, and then stuck the phone into his pocket.

  Finn asked, “Who were you talking to just now?”

  Zyrnek made a face, pulled his phone back out, punched a couple of buttons and then thrust it under Finn’s nose. “Caryn Brown. She was on the duty roster for tomorrow.”

  Finn leaned back a couple of inches so he could focus on the call log on the minuscule screen. CarynB was the first name on the list. Zyrnek jerked the phone away before he could read the rest. Finn made a mental note to check the kid’s cell phone records.

  He had never been inside this trailer. Grace had purchased it last fall when she’d finally received some money for staff help. Like the other portable structures in the compound, it was very basic. The door opened onto a compact living area with a threadbare carpet, a thrift store couch, and two canvas sling chairs. To the left was a kitchen/dining area furnished with a small dinette set, separated from the living room by a counter/breakfast bar with three stools tucked beneath it. To the right, down a short hallway, Finn could see the single bedroom and the ends of stacked bunk beds. He was surprised how neat the place was. With the rain pattering on the roof, it was almost cozy. In the kitchen, a cardboard box held beer cans and soda bottles—recycling. Grease-stained pizza boxes were crumpled into a wastebasket, the sight reminding him that he’d had no breakfast, and now he’d missed lunch, too.

  He pulled out a chair and sat. Scooting toward the table, he extracted the notepad and pen he always kept in his shirt pocket. “Tell me about yesterday.”

  “Uh...it was a busy day.”

  Smart aleck. “Start at the beginning, from when you got up.”

  Zyrnek launched into a detailed explanation of what he’d done all day long, starting with helping the porta-potty guys set up the toilets. Grace joined them the midst of his description. She hung her dripping jacket on a peg near the door and slid into a chair. Her shirt cuffs and hair were soaked and her expression was grim. She shook her head to indicate that she’d found nothing in the forest.

  “You fixed the lock on the gate so the sanitation guys could get in?” Finn asked Zyrnek.

  “Uh...yeah.” The youth glanced at Grace. “I figured we’d be busy and it would be a hassle to wait for someone to walk down the road and let them in. The delivery guys were supposed to secure the padlock when they left.”

  “Did they?”

  Zyrnek’s gaze bounced sideways to Grace and then back again. “I didn’t check.”

  The kid was obviously feeling guilty about that. And maybe about other things, too. “Did you open it for them this morning?” Finn asked.

  “No.”

  “According to the driver, the gate was open.”

  Zyrnek had the
decency to look upset. “Well, fuck!” He turned to Grace. “Sorry, Boss, but it had to be one of the others as they were leaving last night.”

  Finn kept his gaze on Zyrnek. “We’ll ask all the staff about locking the gate. Did you notice any unusual activity yesterday? Anyone acting suspicious?”

  The kid smoothed a strand of hair back from his forehead. “Everything was unusual. It’s not like we have crowds of strangers crawling over this place every day.”

  They batted the talk back and forth for a few minutes more, but if Zyrnek had seen anything important, he either didn’t remember it or said he didn’t.

  “Did your father come to the open house yesterday?”

  “Yeah, he came during his lunch hour.” Zyrnek grew defensive. “He wanted to see where I worked. He wasn’t ‘acting suspicious’ in any way. I showed him around, we shot the breeze for a few minutes, then he left in his pickup.”

  Zyrnek Senior had recently gotten out of prison. His son worked with valuable gorillas. Now those gorillas were missing. Coincidence? Finn suspected that one or both Zyrneks were involved somehow. But as yet he had no evidence to back up his suspicions, so he merely said, “I want to talk to Tony. And to any other visitors we can find.”

  Grace nodded. “I’ll make a list of the ones I remember.”

  Zyrnek picked up his phone.

  Finn asked him, “Who are you calling?”

  “My dad. To let him know you want to talk to him.”

  Finn clamped a hand around Zyrnek’s wrist. “Don’t.” He didn’t want the felon to have time to concoct a story or talk a friend into an alibi.

  The kid grimaced and laid the phone back down on the table. “Of course. You want to ambush him.”

  Ignoring that, Finn turned to Grace. “I want to talk to the rest of your staff, too.”

  She said, “I want to be there. I’ll have questions you won’t think of.”

  Since this wasn’t an official police case, he’d have to fit those interviews around his work schedule. “Let me set up the appointments. I’ll let you know, okay?”