Panda-monium

by Stuart Gibbs

  “This will only take a few seconds. When you were in the trailer with Li Ping, did you watch any of those nature documentaries we provided for you? The one about lions?”

  “Why would I do that?” Doc snorted. “I see enough lions at work. And I know more about them than any documentary crew.”

  “So you didn’t watch any of the movies?” Hoenekker pressed.

  “I didn’t even turn on the TV,” Doc replied. “I read a book the whole time, up until I fell asleep.”

  “That’s all we needed to know,” J.J. said. “Thanks for the info.” He hung up.

  “There was no book left behind in the trailer,” Hoenekker reported.

  “I’ll be darned, Teddy,” J.J. said, sounding kind of impressed. “Looks like you’re right once again. They cloned the trailer.”

  “Which is why I don’t think the NFF could have done it,” I said. “A trailer like that must be awfully expensive, right?”

  “They’re not cheap,” J.J. concurred.

  “From what I understand,” I went on, “the NFF doesn’t have much money. But whoever pulled off this heist must be loaded. They bought a trailer—and possibly paid off Juan and James Van Amburg as well.”

  “Then who was it?” Summer asked. “Animal traffickers?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But the trailer itself is the big clue to figuring that out. Whoever made it had to know exactly what the real trailer was going to look like. So who built the real trailer?”

  “I don’t know,” J.J. said.

  “You don’t?” Summer gasped.

  “A million decisions get made at my companies every day,” J.J. informed her. “I can’t be in on every single one of them.” He grabbed the phone again. “Lynda, call Carter Hanauer in Transportation. Find out from him who built that panda trailer for us.”

  “Right away, J.J.” Lynda said.

  J.J. hung up, then looked to the TV again. Molly O’Malley was still confidently talking to the press, completely sure she was right about the Nature Freedom Force’s guilt. J.J. turned back to me. “The FBI sends a whole crack division out here to handle this, and they didn’t see what you did. Not a single one of them thought to go talk to the panda keepers.”

  “Actually,” I said, “that was Marge’s idea.”

  Summer gaped at me in surprise. So did Marge for a moment. Then she caught on to my lie and acted like she’d known this all along.

  I was as shocked as either one of them that I’d said it. The idea had simply popped into my head, and before I even knew what I was doing, I’d spoken up.

  J.J. didn’t buy it for a second. “Really?” he asked skeptically.

  “Really,” I said, trying my best to sell it.

  “And why didn’t you go to the keepers yourself, Marge?” Hoenekker asked, equally as suspicious as J.J.

  “I didn’t think you’d approve,” Marge replied. “You had made it very clear that I was not to interfere with the panda case.”

  “But Marge just had this sense that the FBI was making a mistake with the NFF,” I said. “So she asked me to talk to Chloé, and then we all agreed to meet up at the Polar Pavilion to discuss what I’d learned. But James Van Amburg got the jump on me. Thankfully, Marge was there to save my life.”

  Summer joined in now, coming to Marge’s aid as well. “Maybe Marge got a little crazy going after James Van Amburg, but the guy had just tried to kill Teddy. Marge didn’t want to let him get away.”

  “And he wouldn’t have, if I’d had a little more help from security,” Marge said pointedly, glaring at Hoenekker.

  Hoenekker shrank under her gaze. “I promise you, we’ll find him.”

  J.J. looked from Marge to me to Summer, then back to Marge again. It didn’t seem like he really believed us, but he seemed intrigued that I—and more importantly, Summer—had gone to bat for Marge. “Chief, maybe we were a little hasty in our dismissal of Officer O’Malley.”

  “Perhaps,” Hoenekker said. He didn’t really seem to agree with J.J. He simply didn’t want to contradict his boss.

  Before he could say anything else, my parents burst into the office. They ran right to me and hugged me tightly. “Are you all right?” Dad asked.

  “I’m fine,” I told him.

  “How does this keep happening to you?” Mom asked. She continued holding on to me, despite the fact that I was damp and soaking through her shirt.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I was being careful this time! All I did was talk to a keeper!”

  “We’re not upset with you,” Dad assured me. “We were just so scared when we got the news.”

  Mom looked at Marge. “We hear we have you to thank for saving Teddy.”

  Marge waved this off. “It was no big deal. They were only bears. It’s not as if they’re dangerous, like lions.”

  “Uh . . . Marge,” Dad said. “Polar bears are easily as dangerous as lions. Probably even more dangerous. They’ve been known to hunt humans.”

  Marge paled. “You mean I could have been killed in there?”

  “Not just killed,” Summer said gleefully. “You could have been mauled, eviscerated, and then eaten.”

  Marge wobbled on her feet as the realization of what she’d done sank in. And then, she passed out. She pitched forward onto J.J. McCracken’s coffee table, which promptly collapsed underneath her.

  Hoenekker rushed to her side to see if she was all right.

  Lynda buzzed through on J.J.’s phone. “J.J., I spoke to Carter Hanauer. He says the panda trailer was custom built by SponCo Trucks.”

  “And who owns SponCo Trucks?” J.J. inquired.

  “It’s a subsidiary of the Nautilus Corporation,” Lynda replied.

  J.J. stiffened at the name. So did I. We both knew who ran the Nautilus Corporation.

  “Walter Ogilvy,” J.J. growled.

  “The man who busted the shark tank with Teddy in it?” Mom asked.

  “One and the same.” J.J. angrily pounded his desk with a fist. “He built a fake trailer, stole my panda, and framed the NFF. And the FBI bought it hook, line, and sinker like a bunch of blasted fools. We better get ahold of them fast so they can track down Van Amburg and get him to turn evidence on Ogilvy.”

  Hoenekker’s phone buzzed urgently. He read the text and smiled. Then he said, “J.J., I’m not sure bringing in the feds gets us anything. For all we know, they won’t even listen to us.” He nodded toward the TV, where Molly O’Malley was still conducting her press conference. “They seem awfully convinced that they’ve got the right guys.”

  “Look, Chief,” J.J. said, “I know you’ve got your tail in a twist because of how the feds treated you, but I have to get that panda back and, frankly, I need the A-team for this. I know you’re a good man, but as for our security here, well . . . they’re a little out of their league on this case.”

  “Maybe not,” Hoenekker replied, hanging up the phone. “It just so happens, we’ve arrested James Van Amburg.”

  THE CONFESSION

  FunJungle had a small jail in the basement level of the administration building. There were only two cells, and they weren’t designed to hold people long-term, like in a real prison. They were merely to keep anyone FunJungle Security arrested—for shoplifting, say—until someone from another law enforcement agency could collect them.

  To everyone’s surprise, Kevin Wilks, the bumbling idiot from security, had caught James Van Amburg. Kevin was quite pleased with himself and happily related the story to Summer, my parents, Marge, J.J., and me as we followed Hoenekker through the basement to the jail.

  “I was stationed outside the front gates,” he explained, “working bag check for the incoming guests. Then I heard all the commotion with Marge crashing into the parade. So I ran to the gates to see what was going on, and I saw Teddy and Summer up on that little hill by Hippo River, pointing at this big bald guy all excitedly.”

  “Wow,” Summer said. “Someone actually noticed us.”

  “Yeah, me,” K
evin said proudly. “But I couldn’t hear you over all the chaos. I didn’t realize the guy had tried to kill you, Teddy. I figured he’d swiped Summer’s purse or something. So as he came out the gate, I pulled my Taser and ordered him to stop.”

  “And he listened?” I asked.

  “Oh no,” Kevin said. “Not at all. He shoved me out of his way and tried to make a run for it.”

  “So what’d you do, chase him down and tackle him?” Summer asked.

  “Er . . . no,” Kevin replied. “When he pushed me, I tripped over a little kid and, uh, sort of accidentally fired my Taser.”

  “So you tasered James Van Amburg by accident?” Mom gasped.

  “No.” Kevin said. “I tasered a different guest by accident. But then she fell down and Van Amburg tripped over her and knocked himself unconscious on the curb.”

  Hoenekker cringed, looking mortified by this story.

  “Wow,” J.J. muttered. “This is a real crack staff we have here.”

  “Thanks!” Kevin said, failing to grasp J.J.’s sarcasm.

  “Any idea what this accidental tasing’s gonna cost me?” J.J. asked.

  “Well, the woman was pretty upset,” Kevin admitted. “Especially because it happened in front of her grandkids.”

  “You tased a grandmother?!” J.J. exclaimed, horrified.

  “She was a very young and healthy grandmother,” Kevin said in his defense. “Not one of those old, wrinkly grandmothers. And once Pete Thwacker offered her and her whole family free annual passes for the next few years, they agreed not to sue us. Anyhow, by the time we took care of all that and got Van Amburg cuffed and made sure he was only unconscious and not dead or anything, all of you guys were gone. So some of the other guards and I brought Van Amburg over here, and that’s when I finally tracked Chief Hoenekker down.”

  We stopped by a door with a plaque marked JAIL. FUNJUNGLE SECURITY ONLY. Hoenekker told Kevin, “You’re dismissed, Officer. Thanks for your work.”

  “Just doing my job, sir!” Kevin saluted and marched back toward the elevator.

  Marge glared after him. “It’s guards like that who make the rest of us look bad.”

  “Yes,” Hoenekker grumbled. “I’d hate to have his arrest of Van Amburg cast a bad light on your destruction of the parade today.” He unlocked a door next to the jail.

  This led into a small, narrow observation room. There was nothing in it except six chairs, which faced a large window. The window looked into the jail, which wasn’t that big either: It only had the two holding cells and a small desk for the guard on duty. James Van Amburg paced back and forth nervously in one cell. The other was empty. The guard at the desk was a young woman I didn’t recognize. Neither she nor James seemed to notice us through the window.

  “This is one-way glass,” Hoenekker explained. “We can see in, but they can’t see out. To them, it merely looks like a mirror. Everyone but Officer O’Malley will remain in here while I extract the confession from Van Amburg.” He shifted his attention to Marge. “And you will not speak unless I ask you to. This is my show, not yours, is that understood?”

  “Yes sir,” Marge agreed.

  Hoenekker turned to me. “Before I begin, I need you to tell me for certain: Is that the man who threw you into the polar bear exhibit?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “That’s him, all right,” Summer echoed.

  Hoenekker didn’t seem convinced. “Don’t be cavalier about this. Take your time. I need you to be one hundred percent sure we have the right person.”

  I was already a hundred percent sure. With his big size, his bald head, and his mean, beady little eyes, James Van Amburg was hard to confuse with anyone else. However, I pretended to take my time scrutinizing him to assure Hoenekker we had the right man. “That’s definitely him.”

  “Yes,” Summer agreed. “He’s the one who attacked Teddy.”

  “Very good,” Hoenekker said. “Now, Teddy and Summer, as witnesses to Van Amburg’s actions, I’ll need you to stay here the entire time to verify or counter his statements.” He inserted a small transmitter into his ear, then pointed to a microphone with a red button by the window. “If I look to the glass, I’m asking you for confirmation. You can let me know through that mic. Now, exacting a confession can take quite some time. Hours, maybe. A seasoned criminal won’t be in any rush to admit his guilt, let alone turn evidence on someone as powerful as Walter Ogilvy.” He looked to my parents and J.J. “None of you are required to stay the whole time. . . .”

  “We know,” Mom said. “But it’s important for us to see that this man gets what’s coming to him.”

  “No one throws my son into a polar bear exhibit and gets away with it,” Dad added.

  J.J. said, “If that ape can tie Walter Ogilvy to all this, I want to be here for every last moment of it.”

  “Very well. Then we’ll begin.” Hoenekker led Marge next door.

  The rest of us took seats in the observation room. The six chairs were in two rows, so Summer and I sat in the front while our parents sat behind us.

  Through the one-way glass, we watched Hoenekker and Marge enter the jail.

  James Van Amburg looked at them expectantly through the bars of his cell.

  “Are you the guy in charge?” he asked. I hadn’t heard him speak yet that day; it was the same deep, gravelly voice that had threatened me at Dolphin Adventure. “How long are you gonna keep me here?”

  Hoenekker didn’t answer him. Instead, he told the guard on duty, “You’re relieved, Private. I need to be here with only Officer O’Malley and Mr. Van Amburg.”

  “Yes sir,” the woman said, and quickly left the room.

  “I said how long are you going to keep me here?” James asked again, sounding more upset this time.

  Once again, Hoenekker ignored the question. Instead, he took the chair from the desk, dragged it closer to the holding cell, and sat down. “Mr. Van Amburg, you’re in a great deal of trouble. You threw a young boy into the polar bear exhibit. I have corroboration from the boy himself, as well as another witness and Officer O’Malley here.” He pointed to Marge, signaling this was her time to talk.

  “That’s right,” Marge agreed, staring bullets at the prisoner. “I saw the whole thing.”

  “There are also cameras throughout the Polar Pavilion that will certainly prove your guilt in this matter,” Hoenekker continued. “That’s attempted murder. Of a child. You could go away for sixty years. . . .”

  “I know!” James exclaimed. “I’m so sorry! It was wrong! I never should have done it!” To my surprise, he started crying. And not merely a few tears. This was full-blown bawling, like a toddler having a meltdown.

  Hoenekker seemed surprised by this as well. “Er . . . So you admit to this?”

  “Yes!” James was no longer the tough guy who’d threatened me. Instead, he was a blubbering, frightened mess. Rivers of snot were running from his nose.

  “Look at him,” Mom said in disgust. “He’s just like any other bully. Happy to pick on someone smaller than him, but the moment he’s in trouble, he shows his true colors.”

  “I didn’t mean to do it!” James wailed. “It was an accident!”

  “An accident?” Hoenekker repeated. “How could you throw a boy into the polar bear exhibit by accident?”

  “It wasn’t planned or anything!” James wailed. “I overheard the kid say he had evidence and I panicked! Please, don’t send me to jail! I’m happy to turn over evidence on anyone you need. I kept records! I have names! I’ll do anything!” He sank to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

  Hoenekker frowned. He actually seemed disappointed by how easy James was making this. “Calm down,” he said. “Who are you working for?”

  “Walter Ogilvy,” James replied.

  “That low-down, dirty snake!” J.J. exclaimed, loud enough that Hoenekker shot him a warning glance through the window.

  James didn’t appear to have heard, though. He was making too much noise himself. “
He’s the guy you want, right? He was the brains of the entire operation. I’ll tell you anything you want to know about him. Just don’t send me to jail!”

  “Whoa,” Hoenekker said. “Let’s start at the beginning. The more detail you can give me, the better. Was the NFF involved with this at all, or was it only Ogilvy?”

  “It was only Ogilvy,” James confirmed. “The NFF didn’t have anything to do with it. They’re a bunch of losers. . . .”

  “Really?” Hoenekker asked. “I thought you co-founded the group with Carlos Gomez.”

  “Yeah, but it was a mistake. Carlos was weak. He only wanted to picket and hand out flyers instead of monkey-wrenching. So a couple months ago, I tried to show him what we could really do. There was a Taco Bell being built right by a wildlife refuge near Houston, so I burned it down.” James seemed excited as he told this part. I got the idea that he might have formed the NFF as an excuse to destroy things, rather than to protect wildlife.

  “That was you?” Marge asked, and Hoenekker gave her a look that indicated he wasn’t pleased by her interruption.

  “Yeah,” James said proudly. “It wasn’t like they’d built too much yet, but I torched what there was. Sent a real good message. Only, Carlos was furious. He chewed me out right in front of a big NFF meeting, called me irresponsible, and kicked me out of the group.”

  “So you had a grudge against him,” Hoenekker stated. “When did Ogilvy approach you?”

  “A few weeks later,” James replied. “I mean, Ogilvy didn’t do it himself, of course. He sent some guys. They tried to keep his name a secret, but they weren’t rocket scientists.” The story was flowing out of James so quickly now, I got the sense he might have rehearsed it, knowing he might have to turn over evidence. “They made me a cash offer. They wanted help stealing the panda and they wanted to frame the NFF for it.”

  “Which you were happy to do,” Hoenekker said.

  “Darn straight I was. After how Carlos treated me. So I swiped some envelopes and paper from the NFF that I knew had Carlos’s fingerprints on it, and Ogilvy’s men used all that to print the fake ransom notes on. I also stole the license plates off Carlos’s car, then attached them to a similar model, which we used to dump the vet in the parking lot here.”