Tiger Trap (4 page)

“Whatever you have to say you can say in front of Sarah. She’s an important part of this place. When we go away, she runs everything.”

He turned back to face me. “I thought you didn’t work here.”

“Well …”

“I knew you weren’t telling the truth. You’re not very good at lying.”

“Never was very good,” Mr. McCurdy agreed. “But you can still say what you want in front of Sarah.”

“No, I can’t,” the man said, shaking his head. “I need to talk to you in private. Nobody but me and the two of you can be part of the conversation.”

“And if we don’t agree to that?” Mr. McCurdy asked.

“Then we don’t talk and you won’t know what it was I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I guess I’ll take that chance,” Mr. McCurdy said. “You should leave now.”

“Leave?”

“That’s what I said. Go. Get. Vamoose. Vanish. Disappear. Understand?”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“No, I’m asking you to leave. If you don’t leave, then I’ll kick you out. Or, I guess, have my good friend Vladimir kick you out.”

“Vladimir kick you off good,” Vladimir said, stepping toward the man in a very threatening manner.

I involuntarily stepped back myself, but the man didn’t budge.

“Listen to what I have to say and then, if you want, I’ll leave. Nobody will have to kick me out.”

Vladimir balled his hands into fists and stepped even closer. “Maybe Vladimir will enjoy kicking man out.”

“Look,” I said as I moved forward and put myself between Vladimir and the stranger, “I have to go, anyway. It’s time for me to feed the kangaroos again and then I have to get home. So I’ll leave and you three can talk.”

“You don’t have to go, Sarah,” Mr. McCurdy said. “It’s my farm and I decide who stays and who goes — not him.”

“But I
want
to go,” I said. “I
have
to go.”

Mr. McCurdy didn’t answer right away. That was good. It meant he was thinking it over. “Okay, we’ll talk to this guy, just the two of us, but we’re only doing it because Sarah wants us to. Not because anybody else does.”

“I don’t care why, as long as we do talk privately,” the stranger said.

“Okay, I’m going,” I said. “If I don’t see you before I go home, I’ll be back tomorrow. Is that okay? You two will take care of Kanga and Roo tonight?”

“All taken care of, Sarah,” Vladimir said, turning to face the man. “Everything will be taken care of …”

A shudder went up my spine. I knew what Vladimir meant. It was better I was leaving. I didn’t want to see what was going to happen next because it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Sarah?”

Startled out of my thoughts, I glanced at my mother beside me at the kitchen table.

“Could you please pass Martin the potatoes?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure, of course.” I picked up the serving bowl and passed it to my brother, who handed it to Martin.

The police chief had dinner at our house a couple of times a week. He and my mother seemed to be getting pretty serious. Maybe I should have been unhappy about my mother having a boyfriend, but he was nice and he did make her happy. A lot happier than my father had made her the last couple of years of their marriage. I wondered if my father was happy now — we didn’t see him enough for me to know. Somehow I doubted it.

“So,” Martin said, “your mother was telling me about the kangaroos.”

“They’re really cute. I named them Kanga and Roo,” I said.

“That’s cute, too. How are they doing?”

“Really good. They’re eating well.”

“And often,” my mother said. “Sarah was up all last night feeding them.”

“That’s rough. Now that I’m chief I don’t work the graveyard very often, but I remember those night shifts. You’re so tired it feels like you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

“That’s how you probably feel right now, Sarah,” my mother said.

“I feel fine.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “You must be tired. If I’d been up all night, I’d be —”

“But it wasn’t you who was up,” I snapped. “It was me! Just because
you
feel cold doesn’t mean
I
need a sweater.”

My mother seemed hurt by my comments, and I suddenly felt bad. I didn’t mean to upset her, but it was happening a lot lately. Words just popped out of my mouth as if I were hearing them for the first time myself, and I felt shocked by what I’d said.

“You look pretty tired to me, as well,” Nick said.

I shot him a dirty look. He could be such a little suck-up sometimes — as if he’d never done anything to anger or offend Mom.

“I thought you were going to fall face first into your mashed potatoes,” he continued. “You just drifted off a couple of times.”

“That’s not because I’m sleepy, but because I was lost in thought. Something you have very little experience with.”

There was silence. Now if I could just think of something nasty to say to Martin I could have everybody at the table annoyed at me.

“It’s been a week or so since I’ve been out to Tiger Town,” Martin finally said. “How are Angus and Vladimir doing?”

“They’re doing great,” I said. “Everything’s great … well, good … well, okay.”

“Just okay?” he asked.

“Well … everything’s good with the animals, and that’s the most important part.”

“Then what part is going just okay?” Martin pressed.

“I guess it’s mainly the money,” I admitted, feeling as if I didn’t have the right to discuss Mr. McCurdy’s finances, though I knew them better than anybody, including Mr. McCurdy.

“I thought that from the number of visitors I see at the park there would be enough money flowing in,” Martin said.

“There’s enough coming in now, but what about later in the year when the weather changes and there aren’t as many visitors?” I asked.

“I guess attendance might go down slightly,” Martin said.

“I expect a sixty percent decline in attendance from November to mid-March.”

“Sixty percent?” my mother said. “That seems awfully pessimistic.”

“Is it?” I said. “Do you think I just pulled those numbers out of my head?”

“No, I just thought that —”

“I went on the Net and checked out other zoos and exotic animal parks that operate in the same climate as us, and that was their
average
decline in attendance.”

“I didn’t know,” my mother said. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” I mumbled back. I usually felt bad right after I snapped at her, but it was even worse when she apologized. “It’s just that we have to get financially ahead during the good weather so we have extra money we can use when attendance is down.”

“And that’s not happening?” my mother asked.

“We’re just holding even.”

“You can’t be spending much on food,” Martin said. “Those arrangements I made are sufficient, aren’t they?”

“I’d hate to think what things would be like without those arrangements,” I said.

“Then, other than feeding Vladimir — and I bet that costs a fortune — where’s all the money going?” Nick asked.

“Veterinarian fees, medicine and inoculations are expensive,” I said. “But the real problem is the money that’s going into building supplies to make all the new enclosures.”

“How many new animals have been added?” Martin asked.

“Nine in the past three weeks, and judging from the phone calls I know of, there are others that are possibilities. It seems like everybody in the whole country has heard about Tiger Town and figures we can take in any exotic animal that no one else can care for.”

“Mr. McCurdy can’t take in every animal,” Martin said.

“Thank you! That’s what I keep saying to him! But does he listen to me? Mr. McCurdy just says it’s a big farm and there’s lots and lots of space left. It’s not the space I’m worried about. It’s the money.”

“When it comes to animals, I’m afraid Angus thinks with his heart instead of his head,” Martin agreed. “He loves his animals.”

“He loves other people’s animals as well,” I said. “Even the ones he’s never met. He feels like it’s his job to rescue them, but it can’t keep going on like this. He can’t keep adding more and more animals.”

“Do you think he’d ever sell off any of his animals?” Martin asked.

Nick burst into laughter. “Like that’s going to happen.”

“Actually, there was a guy there today talking about buying Kushna,” I said.

“There was?” Nick asked, sounding shocked. Both Martin and my mother stared at me open-mouthed.

“Yeah, he was nosing around most of the day, making notes, and then he started talking about wanting to buy Kushna,” I said.

“Why would anybody want to buy an old tiger?” my mother asked.

“There’s only one reason I can think of,” I said.

“Me, too,” Nick agreed.

“You think he wanted to do something illegal with the tiger?” my mother asked.

“Only reason I can think of for wanting to buy him is to sell off the body parts,” I said. “We all know how much a dead tiger’s worth.”

“It’s still hard to believe somebody would sacrifice a tiger for a few dollars,” my mother said.

“It’s not a few dollars,” I said. “Kushna’s old, but he’s big. They could get something like seventy-five to a hundred thousand dollars. Between the bones, the organs and the skin, he’s worth a lot more dead than he ever was alive.”

“That’s just so barbaric,” my mother said.

“It’s barbaric and it’s brought tigers to the brink of extinction,” I said. “Do you know there are more tigers living in zoos around the world than there are living in the wild?”

“That’s so sad,” my mother said.

“It is,” Martin agreed. “Almost as sad as what happened to that man.”

“Man?” Nick asked. “What man?”

“The guy who wanted to buy the tiger,” Martin said. “How far did he go when Vladimir threw him off the farm?”

“I didn’t stay around to find out,” I said.

“And it’s better that I
never
find out,” Martin said.

“I warned Vladimir he couldn’t just pound the guy out,” I said. “Even though he’s now legally in the country, he still has to follow the law.”

“That was wise of you to warn him,” Martin said.

“He thinks because you two are friends you wouldn’t arrest him. I told him it doesn’t work that way in this country.”

“I’d hate to have to arrest anybody who’s a friend of mine — you can lose a lot of friends that way — but the law’s the law.”

“That’s what I told him.”

“But I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Martin said.

“I don’t?” Obviously, Martin didn’t know Vladimir as well as he thought he did. I could picture Vladimir doing serious damage to that guy.

“Uh, no … I’d have heard if there was a problem — right?”

“I guess you would have.”

“Besides, anybody who was trying to do something illegal like buying an exotic animal for slaughter would have to be pretty stupid to complain to the police if he was roughed up.”

“He wasn’t stupid,” I said.

“How do you know that?” my mother asked.

I recognized that “mother” tone in her voice. I didn’t really want to answer her question. She wouldn’t be very happy if I told her it was all part of a plan to try to figure out what the guy wanted.

“Well?” my mother asked.

“I spoke to him a bit.”

“That wasn’t wise,” she said.

“I didn’t know what he wanted until I started talking to him and then once I found out I stopped.”

“I remember reading that people involved in the illegal sale of exotic animals can be armed and dangerous,” my mother said.

“Any illegal activity that involves large sums of money usually leads to danger and weapons,” Martin said. “Did you know that the illegal trade in exotic animals is likely the second-largest smuggling activity after the drug trade?”

“I didn’t know that,” my mother said.

“It’s estimated, and of course it can only be an estimate, that it involves up to ten billion dollars a year,” Martin said.

“Ten billion dollars!” my mother said.

“I didn’t believe it myself at first,” Martin said, “but I did some double-checking of facts and that was the number. That figure includes the sale of animal parts for traditional medicines, things like ivory from elephants, skin from alligators, fur from big cats, pets like tropical birds, reptiles and other endangered animals and ownership of large exotics like lions, tigers and bears.”

“Oh,
my
!” I said, quoting from
The Wizard of Oz
.

“There must be laws against these things,” my mother, ever the lawyer, said.

“There’s a patchwork of organizations and regulations that cover most of these things, but there’s no fully coordinated international set of laws,” Martin explained. “And while there are laws that regulate the importation or exportation of exotics in or out of the country, there’s hardly any control over those that are born and raised here.”

“And there’s a lot of those,” Nick said. “Tigers seem to breed like bunnies.”

“Big bunnies with claws and teeth,” Martin said. “These exotics pose a definite threat to the public.”

“Not Mr. McCurdy’s animals,” I said, defending him.

“Even well-run places like his could have an escape,” Martin said. “It does happen.”

I knew what he was talking about. The summer before last Buddha had escaped. It was only by a combination of luck and skill that we were able to recapture him without anybody, including Buddha, getting hurt.

“For example,” Martin said, “take that lion Mr. McCurdy got recently, the one that was the mascot for that motorcycle gang.”

“Woody,” I said.

“That’s the one. While he was well cared for, as far as I’ve been told, he was still kept in a clubhouse with no bars. He could have slipped out the front door, and there’s no telling what havoc he could have caused.”

“He’s very gentle,” I said, now defending the lion.

“It doesn’t matter how gentle he is,” Martin said. “Would you want him to wander into a backyard where a toddler was playing in a sandbox?”

I shook my head. That was a scary thought.

“It was only because of a municipal bylaw that they couldn’t keep it,” Martin said.

“The same sort of bylaw that almost cost Mr. McCurdy his farm,” Nick said.

“Similar,” Martin agreed. “But that was the only law that got that lion away from that unsafe, poorly supervised situation. I’m not against well-supervised places where the animals are cared for by professionals —”

“Like Mr. McCurdy’s place,” I said.

“Like his place. I just think there has to be more done to protect the public and to regulate this massive illegal trade. There are magazines, websites and public auctions where exotics are being bought and sold on a daily basis.”

“I didn’t know that,” Nick said.

“Me, neither,” my mother said.

“I didn’t, either,” I admitted. “But I was wondering, Martin. How do you know about all this stuff?”

The police chief’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and he got that sort of look a kid gets when he’s been caught in a lie — but, of course, I knew Martin wasn’t lying.

“That’s a good question,” my mother said.

“I’m … I’m the chief of police. I have to know about everything. It’s part of my job.”

“Knowing about exotic animals and the illegal trade is part of your job?” I asked.

“Of course it is, especially since we have Mr. McCurdy’s place here,” he said.

“I guess that makes sense,” my mother said.

It did make sense, but there was something about the way Martin had looked that made me wonder if it made
complete
sense. Was there something he wasn’t telling us?

“Just think,” Martin said, “Angus is having money problems, but he has animals that are worth literally over a million dollars.”

“That much?” Nick asked.

“Figure it out,” Martin said. “The tigers alone are worth a couple of hundred thousand dollars. Throw in the jaguars, lions, leopards, the elephant, the black bear and all the other animals and a million dollars is maybe a low estimate.”

“But they’re only worth that to the exotic animal traders, the people who want to slaughter the animals,” I said.

“Of course,” Martin said, “but for lots of people it would be tempting to make just one sale. The sale of one tiger would be enough to pay for all the other animals to live and to expand the farm to allow many other animals to be saved.”

“You’re not saying Angus should do that, are you?” my mother asked.

“Of course not,” Martin said.

“Good, because there’s no way he ever would,” I said. “No way. He’d rather sacrifice himself than even one of those animals.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Martin said.

“I
know
I’m right.”

Martin got up from the table and picked up his plate. “That was, as always, a wonderful meal. Thank you.”