by Ruby Loren
“Did you hear they found the car?” I said and Lowell nodded.
“It was just abandoned by the roadside. They tried to take fingerprints from the steering wheel and doors, but there’s nothing. They say they think the interior was wiped down and the car was driven through a car wash. Pretty strange thing for a man on the run to do right before he ditches his car.”
I shrugged. “Perhaps he didn’t know he was going to have to abandon it, or perhaps someone called him up and his plans changed.” Everything seemed foggy right now.
Lowell shrugged, but he wasn't any the wiser. The only thing we could both agree on was that it didn’t seem at all likely that this was the simple case that had been assumed.
“Did you get any further with Marie?” I asked.
Lowell sighed. “I’ve got another day, haven’t I?” was all he said, which I took to mean that he’d failed so far.
“How come the police were back here in the first place?” I said, realising I hadn’t asked the most obvious question.
Lowell grunted, unhappily. “They, uh, found out I’m a private detective and wanted to know if there was a case I was working on at the time that could be relevant. I said there wasn’t, which is true.”
“But of course, you didn’t mention the case you’re working right now,” I noted.
“They didn’t ask about now,” Lowell said and I thought he was smiling without moving his lips. “I did pick up some more interesting information. They officially confirmed that the victim was Jackie Bennet, the fiancée of George Ashdown. What’s more interesting is that the police also asked if I knew anything about George Ashdown. I got the impression they were desperate to learn anything at all about the man. So, when we’d finished our conversation, I trailed them all the way to their car and I heard them talking.”
I tried not to think about what might have happened if he’d been caught. Was being nosey what qualified you for being a private detective?
“I heard them discussing the information they have about George Ashdown, or rather - the lack of it. Although Jackie had a record for selling an illegal substance - just like Marie said - George has no record. He doesn’t have much in the way of anything, it would appear. He’s been renting the house for a couple of months, but he always paid in cash. The police think he must have paid for everything in cash before then, too. There’s no record of him at all. He doesn't have bank cards or anything.” He paused to let that sink in. “George Ashdown is a ghost.”
7
A Witness to Murder
The next day came and went without Marie coughing up any new information. She said she had some friends nearby that she could probably stay with for a bit, so Lowell drove her there. It was time she leeched off someone else.
Despite my promise that yesterday would be her final chance to talk, it did bother me that she knew more than what she was saying. The police may have no reason to suspect she was anywhere nearby on the night of the murder, but that didn’t mean there wasn't someone who did know truth. What if George had seen her before he’d had his fight with Jackie? He might go after her, too! After all, she was a witness. Had we done the right thing by letting her go, or should I have turned her in to the police, as I’d previously intended?
I stroked Lucky's warm, furry head and sighed. None of this should be my problem. Right now, I should be worrying about the animal enclosure and welfare review but instead I had bigger things on my mind.
One of these things was Mr Limey. The mineral oil hadn't done the trick, so the vet was coming in this morning to administer one of the nastier treatments to get rid of the blockage. If that didn’t do it, the poor green mamba might have to undergo surgery. He’d stopped eating completely now and I knew his problem needed to be fixed ASAP. I just hoped the vet's treatment would do the trick.
“You look a little better,” I told Mr Limey several hours after the vet had left. The green mamba did seem a little more lively but that could have been because of the rather invasive treatment he’d undergone. I did however note that the lump had slid further towards his tail, where it looked more prominent than ever. It made me wince to look at it and I really hoped it would break up and disperse soon.
“The glamorous life of working with animals,” I told Mr Limey, before returning to my office and settling down to type up the notes I’d taken that day.
I’d finally had a productive day’s work and had managed to get round all of the large, herbivore enclosures. Rhinos, elephants, hippos, and giraffes had all been inspected and reviewed. On the whole, things at Snidely were as good as could be imagined. I’d found very few areas with room for improvement. The biggest flaw was the lions’ lack of stimulation. That was the main take away. While big places like Snidely were great at providing an excellent environment and ample space for animals to roam, they often forgot that - beyond feeding - the animals didn’t have a lot to do. And bored animals were not happy, healthy animals. After all this work. I was really looking forward to presenting my findings and then discussing the ways that Snidely could move forwards.
Kerry had returned to work today, although she was none the wiser about what had happened to her. She’d popped in earlier in the day to say thanks, and a large box of chocolates was sat on my desk, just waiting for me to go home and overindulge while I worked on a new comic.
Just as I pressed save on the document, there was a knock on the door.
“Hi, can I help you?” I asked the unfamiliar man who stood outside. He was wearing the Snidely Safari and Wildlife Park uniform.
“You’re here to report on animal welfare, aren’t you?” he said and I nodded, wondering what this was about. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked embarrassed. “Well, I don't know if you can do anything about it, but the lorikeets keep flying into the windows of their enclosure. There’s so many of them that I’m not sure if anyone really notices when a few of them get injured, but I've seen it happen more than once. I was wondering if you could maybe write something about that?”
“Would you mind showing me?” I said, not minding that it was technically the end of the day. If there was an animal welfare issue I wasn’t aware of, I wanted to see it firsthand.
“I’m Madigan, but please call me Madi,” I said as we walked through the small animal area. A group of meerkats stood to attention when we passed by, and I noticed that they had several smaller meerkats with them. It looked as though the baby meerkats had reintegrated successfully.
“I’m Steve. I work here as a caretaker, but I always like to look in on the animals, too. It is a part of the job, after all. If something’s broken, I’m the one who fixes it. You gotta know a thing or two about your clients in order to make a good job of the fixing. That’s what I think, anyway.”
I nodded at the pearl of wisdom. We came to a halt outside the lorikeet enclosure.
“I’m sure you've noticed, it’s an open enclosure, so people can walk through and feed the birds. They also have exterior viewing windows, to let light in, and so people can watch their families without going inside themselves. They're the problem. These windows are so big the lorikeets just don’t notice they’re there. They fly straight into them.” He shook his head. “I’ve tried to bring it up with the keepers but they didn’t like my suggestion. I thought it would be solved by putting a metal mesh across, so you could still see through but the birds wouldn’t try to fly through. Apparently that’s too ugly and makes visitors think of cages.”
I thought about it for a moment. “Well, what if it were painted? I don’t mean covering the window in paint, but some nice designs - flowers, leaves and butterflies. With any luck, it’ll break up the blank space that makes the birds think there’s nothing stopping them from flying out, but it won’t obscure the window. People will still be able to look through.”
The caretaker nodded. “I knew you were the right person to ask. I’m practical, me. Couldn’t think of a creative idea like that to save my life.”
“Thanks for ca
ring enough to let me know. I definitely missed that this was happening,” I said, admitting my own flaws.
I’d thought that working at different zoos as a consultant would be exactly the same as when I'd worked at Avery Zoo, but I’d neglected to consider something very important. I knew Avery. I knew the ins and outs of the majority of animals, and that meant I could easily figure out what it was they really needed. It was a lot harder to come into a place that I didn’t know and start making judgements. It was lucky Steve had come to me, or the lorikeets might have carried on flying into the glass with no one to notice their distress.
“Hey, did I see the police earlier?” he said when we were walking back towards the critical care unit. Steve had told me he was supposed to be tidying up the flowerbeds back there, as one of the rose bushes looked like someone had fallen on it.
I had changed the subject pretty fast.
“Yes, they were just asking a few more things to help their investigation. I don’t think they’re very close to catching the guy who did it," I admitted.
Steve looked thoughtful. “I spoke to them the day after the murder when they asked around for any witnesses. I was on the night shift, doing a walk around the perimeter when I saw the car. You know, the red one that the police found the other day?” I didn't ask him how he knew that. Gossip spread like nobody’s business at every zoo I’d been to so far.
“Did you see the driver?” I asked, curious.
He tilted his head from side to side. “Well, sort of. I mean, it was probably him, right? You know what the weird thing was? There was another car that came from that way a minute or so later. I think it had two people inside. I figured they were maybe looking for the manor and took a wrong turn down to the building block. They were travelling pretty slow back up the drive, so they might have been looking for the turn off.”
My eyebrows lifted up so high, I thought they might be about to vanish into my hairline. “Did you tell the police that?”
Steve frowned. “No, I didn’t. They only asked me about the red car and I figured, like I told you, that the other one was just some guests for the dinner who got a bit lost. Probably one of the spouses driving, you know? I bet their partner was annoyed!” He smiled but it faded when I didn’t return it.
“Did you, uh, see any other cars?” I asked, thinking of Harold Snidely’s exit in his Aston Martin.
Steve shook his head. “No, but I heard Lord Snidely’s car drive off, which I thought was a bit strange. I heard later he was taken ill, so I guess it was someone else driving him to the doctor. They didn't come my way anyway.”
“I guess so,” I said, knowing he was wrong about that.
“Do you think I should have told the police?” Steve sounded worried.
I thought about it for a second. “I’m not sure. If they thought there was someone else involved, they’ll probably come back and ask you again,” was all I could think to say.
Steve nodded like this made perfect sense. “Okay. Well, anyway, I’d better be getting on and fixing up this rose. I bet whoever fell on it is regretting it right now. That beast has some killer thorns on it!”
“Haha, yes," I said, self-consciously tugging at the long-sleeved shirt I'd chosen to wear that day to cover my wounds. “I’ll be sure to pass along the lorikeet suggestion and to emphasise how important it is for the birds that something about that enclosure is changed, even if they don’t like my idea,” I reassured him.
“Thanks,” Steve said and we exchanged a final smile before going our separate ways.
I had just finished feeding Lucky and was about to leave the office when Lowell walked in.
“Hey, honey, how was your day?” he joked and I rolled my eyes at him.
“Pretty productive, actually,” I said, thinking of the nearly-finished review. I had a feeling it might be completed as early as tomorrow. Lord Snidely would have to be pleased about that. “How about you?” I asked.
“Not so good, I’m afraid.” Lowell plumped down on the settee. A small cloud of dust rose into the air.
I tilted my head enquiringly.
He sighed. “I’m not so sure I’m going to be allowed to keep my fee for this job, seeing as I haven’t turned up much at all. It's pretty damn difficult. At first, I figured the cleaners were the obvious suspects, but they’re all brought in from an outside company and they’re pretty highly respected. They do a lot of big properties and their business would be ruined if any of their staff were caught stealing. I asked them and there have been no reports of items going missing from the other properties they take care of. I don’t think it was them. They pay their staff surprisingly well and I think a cleaner wouldn’t risk their regular pay packet just to make a bit of money on the side selling stolen items.” He ran a hand through his dark hair and a lock fell over his forehead. “That leaves the regular house staff. That’s the stewards, tour guides, and the keepers. The items have only gone missing from the public areas of the house, so the family’s staff aren’t under suspicion.
I frowned. “Who’s to say it’s not the public who are responsible for the thefts?”
“A valid point, and one I actually raised with Trinity, but it’s unlikely. There’s a steward in every room and the public are kept behind barriers. They’d notice if someone dodged under a rope to grab something. What wouldn’t be observed would be a steward swiping an item or two when no one else was around.”
“And they really won’t consider CCTV?” I asked.
“Nope. Apparently it would ruin the ambience, or something. The Snidelys don't want people to feel that they’re under scrutiny, especially their staff.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Even when their staff are the ones doing the stealing?”
He shrugged. “Who am I to say? Anyway, the point is, I've been given this case and I'm not getting anywhere. As far as I can tell, none of the items that have gone missing in the past few months have turned up on the market. They’re the items that the Snidelys want back. In the past, they’ve always been able to locate the most important missing items but that’s suddenly changed.”
“Why would anyone steal from their employer?” I wondered aloud.
“I suppose for some people the temptation is just too much,” Lowell answered and we exchanged a look, both thinking about what had happened at Avery Zoo.
“So, where could the missing heirlooms be?” I wondered aloud. “Did you figure out the suspects?”
Lowell looked defeated again. “Trinity said they have a good idea of who’s behind it, but I haven't been able to work it out. I don’t know how she thinks she knows! What is it that I’m missing?”
I bit my lip as I thought through his problem. “Okay, so the case isn’t really about who’s responsible, it’s about getting the items back. They haven’t turned up in the usual places, so where could they be? The thief could have taken them home, or somewhere else…” A crease appeared between my eyebrows as I thought some more. “The bottom line is, they’re probably storing them somewhere, right?”
Lowell half-nodded. “I’m guessing so. After all, where else could they be if they haven’t turned up on the market?”
“Then you just need to focus on finding where they’re being stored.” I tilted my head. “Perhaps you could follow a few of the staff home and do some looking of your own?”
“Break in?” Lowell said, dryly.
I cleared my throat. “I never said that.” I winked at him. “But don’t get caught, of course.”
“I’ll do my best.” He still didn’t look anymore pepped up. “I don’t know. Something seems off about this whole thing.”
“It does,” I said, remembering my conversation with Steve.
I filled Lowell in on what the caretaker had seen.
“A second car. The plot thickens,” he observed.
I nodded. “It could change everything. Steve didn’t say anything about seeing Jackie’s car driving down there, so it’s safe to assume that this car arrived and returned after
she and Marie were already in the building. They either saw the murder, or had something to do with it.”
Lowell frowned. “What if George wasn't running away after all? His car was found abandoned and he was nowhere nearby. It might have been a decoy. With the prints all wiped down, there’s no guarantee he was even driving it at the time. This is all just conjecture though,” Lowell admitted. “We’re missing half the facts.”
“No thanks to Marie,” I said, still annoyed that she’d enjoyed our hospitality without giving anything back in return.
Lowell was right, there weren’t enough facts.
Something dawned on me. Even though Marie hadn’t told us much, we had been relying on what little she had told us. She’d implied Mr Limey had been a long term member of the family, but what if that wasn’t true? Green mambas weren’t exactly two a penny. If we could find out where he'd come from, it might give us more of a clue about the case.
“We’ve got some research to do,” I said aloud and filled Lowell in on my idea.
Although we were halfway up the country, he said he had some local detective connections who would know a thing or two about the dangerous animals black market. It would be my duty to research the more reputable places that Mr Limey may have come from. The first thing to do would be to confirm whether or not George Ashdown had been licensed to look after dangerous wild animals. I was guessing the answer was no. Considering he didn’t have bank cards, an official license seemed unlikely.
“Where did you come from?” I wondered aloud, thinking of the poorly snake.
Lowell and I had a full evening of research ahead of us. I only hoped that when it was done, we’d finally hold a grain of the truth.
8
