Foxes and Fatal Attraction: Mystery (Madigan Amos Zoo Mysteries Book 9) Read online

  “It will be okay, you’ll see,” I promised, hoping it would prove to be true.

  No matter what happened, I really did believe that Tiff would do just fine. She was a strong woman and she had all the friends anyone could ever want. And then she had me, too - I would always be there to support Tiff, come what may.

  She would be just fine. I was going to make sure of it.

  Auryn returned home from work the next evening with a frown on his face. When I asked him what was troubling him, he let out a great sigh.

  “Something - an animal we think - is breaking into Avery Zoo and killing our water fowl. At first, Leah thought it was probably a bird of prey who’d seen an opportunity and struck, but then it happened again - and this time more evidence was left behind. Leah thinks it’s a fox and has been trying to work out how it might have got into the zoo, but so far, she’s had no luck. This morning I went in only to be informed that two flamingoes are missing, presumed dead.” He shook his head. “I know there are big foxes, but surely a flamingo is too much for one to take with them, even if they did manage to kill it? And two of them! I’m starting to wonder if we’re missing something…”

  “Do you think it might be a human who’s responsible?” I asked, pricking my ears up. It would certainly be a cunning ruse to kill some of the fowl in such a manner that made the keepers suspect a wild animal attack - but then come back for some of the more valuable animals and hope the same culprit would take the blame.

  Auryn shook his head. “There are claw scrapes and there’s a musky smell. I think it is some kind of a wild animal - I’m just not sure it’s a fox. Whatever it is, this has to stop, or we’ll have no fowl left. Before you know it, word will get out, and the protestors will be back in force.” He wrung his hands. “Of course, it’s the animals I care about most of all. It’s a zoo’s responsibility to care for the creatures it conserves, and right now, Avery Zoo is failing to protect them.”

  “What about the CCTV? Have you thought about ways to catch whatever it is that’s causing the trouble?”

  Auryn looked away, not meeting my gaze. “There’s been nothing on the cameras that we can make out. The footage isn’t the best, even with the camera pointing the right way. Initially, I wondered if it was a person who knew how to avoid cameras, but I think this animal - whatever it is - likes to stick to the shadows.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “As to catching it… of course we’re considering humane traps, but there was a trap out last night, and it wasn’t triggered. That was actually what got me thinking it might be something other than a fox - something that likes to kill its own prey. A fox would surely have taken the bait we left. They’re opportunists.”

  I nodded. The same could be said for some of the more exotic fox-types we kept in the zoo. Our native red foxes had long fascinated me, but as they weren’t zoo animals, I realised my knowledge of their behavioural traits wasn’t incredibly extensive. Auryn, on the other hand, seemed to know rather a lot about them. I hoped it was simply personal interest, but Tristan Herriot’s talk of fox hunting was making me more than a little sensitive on the topic.

  “What about Bernard? He’s running loose. Surely that makes him easy pickings?” I asked.

  The zoo’s resident turkey, Bernard, had arrived at Avery Zoo in a cardboard box right before Christmas. We still assumed that some well-meaning rescuer had wanted to save him from becoming someone’s Christmas dinner. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been room to build him his own enclosure and his time with the emus had been turbulent, too.

  He’d been let out to wander freely around the zoo during the days of closure over Christmas but when the time had come to put him back into an enclosure, there’d been a distinct lack of willing volunteers. Bernard had already developed a bit of a reputation for feistiness and although we’d initially worried he would be too aggressive towards visitors, in reality, he was no worse than the ‘guard peacocks’ Auryn had unknowingly purchased. Visitors were duly warned about the perils of the roaming fowl when they arrived at the zoo, but the birds’ presence tended to make for humorous YouTube videos rather than any real injuries.

  “If it was a fox, I’d say Bernard could take care of himself. But now I’m not so sure. The peacocks are at risk, too,” he added, shooting me a knowing look.

  “Well, boo hoo,” I muttered, not entirely unfairly. The peacocks didn’t like me and I didn’t like them. I was almost certain that was the way things would remain.

  “We’re supposed to want to conserve all animals, not just the ones that take our fancy,” Auryn reminded me with a subtle smile. “That rather brings me onto my conundrum. The no-kill trap with the bait didn’t work, and I can’t have animals dying left, right, and centre. I mentioned the problem to a man I knew at school, who I know to be a very good shot. He said he’d be more than happy to take care of the problem. I’m just not sure what to do. Killing an animal, who is just behaving using its natural instincts, in order to save the animals in the zoo feels all wrong. But on the flip-side, a lot of fowl are dying.”

  “I see,” I said, appreciating the tricky nature of the situation. “I’m sure you’ll come to the right conclusion.” I was certain that Auryn would make sure he exhausted every possible avenue before he resorted to bringing in a hunter, and I knew he would ask me if he needed any help to do that.

  “I’m actually glad you brought up Bernard and the peacocks…”

  “I only brought up Bernard,” I corrected.

  “Yes… well… you’ll be pleased to know I’ve actually already made arrangements…”

  My ears pricked up. “Which poor sap did you farm them off on?”

  My face dropped a mile when Auryn shot me the guiltiest grin I’d ever seen.

  “You didn’t!” I said, outraged.

  “It seemed like the safest thing for them,” Auryn protested.

  “Oh, sure! Until they jump into the lion enclosure and get eaten. Hey! That might not be the worst idea in the world…” I meant what I’d said about the unnecessary slaughter of animals being a terrible thing, but those peacocks definitely had it coming. “You’ve just been waiting for an excuse to ruin my zoo with your own bad decisions, haven’t you?”

  “Of course not. It was an essential measure!” Auryn protested, but I wasn’t buying it for a second.

  “What about Rameses? He might be good as a guard dog? You’ve also got friends with dogs…” I said, reaching for a solution that could deter the animal intruder without it resulting in certain death. I didn’t believe Rameses would savage an animal, as he mostly ignored the ones at the zoo. Lucky had taught him better than to indulge in any feline chasing as well. It was surely worth a try, wasn't it?

  “I’m not so sure. So many dogs have been going missing. Leaving him alone could be a bad idea…” Auryn said, and then frowned as if just remembering something. “I can’t believe I forgot to say… you won’t believe it, but Andy Wright came into the zoo today looking for me. He said that one of his friends - a guy I actually remember from school - Ralph Trident, has a dog who’s just given birth to a surprise litter. Apparently, I won’t believe how much like ‘Rameses crossed with English Pointer’ they look like.” He raised both eyebrows at me. “I did some more asking and was able to ascertain that Ralph only lives a couple of miles away from the Marsden’s old place. I’m going to make the stunning leap of logic that Rameses wasn’t idle during his time spent on the loose…

  “Oh crumbs! What do we need to do about that?” I asked, unsure of the protocol when it came to accidental puppy litters.

  “Well, considering that Scarlett and Timmy paid so much for Rameses’ breeding rights in the first place, and he managed to breed with another apparently sought after dog, we should be collecting a stud cheque.” He shot me a lopsided grin to show he wasn’t entirely serious. “I wanted to run it by you before I call up Ralph and see if he can reassure me the pups are going to good homes. Then I’ll agree a fee and we’ll send it to a dog rescue. That s
hould make us feel a little less guilty, right?”

  “I suppose so,” I said, realising there wasn’t much else to be said. An accident had happened, and did I really have a leg to stand on when I complained about breeding? I worked as an animal breeding consultant. Sure, dogs were plentiful and often in need of loving homes, which was why I frowned upon excessive breeding, but I knew I should probably take a lighter view. After all, dogs taught people to respect animals just as much as seeing animals at the zoo or out in the wild did. I frowned a little, remembering that I definitely only approved if the breeding wasn’t furthering negative traits that harmed animals’ health. There’d been similar scandals in the history of zoos and I thought all occasions of that were terrible for both the animals and the people caring for them.

  “Well, it’s settled then. I think we’ll be seeing some of the puppies around. Ralph mentioned there’d already been interest from the old Harvington House crowd.

  “Hmmm,” was all I had to say to that. I had some doubts as to the kindheartedness of some of his old associates. Especially those who liked fox hunting. I looked questioningly at Auryn and he avoided my gaze. I thought I probably had my answer as to whether Ralph Trident was involved in that crowd.

  My mobile phone started to ring in my pocket. I pulled it out and frowned at the unknown number. Auryn skittered backwards out of the room before I could fix him with a look that said ‘we’re not done here’ - especially on the topic of Bernard and the peacocks. Sounds like a second rate pub band, I thought before answering the phone.

  “Hello Ms Amos, Tristan Herriot here.” I silently noted his return to formalities. He must have gathered himself together since the terrible shock we’d had finding Harry Farley’s body. “I do hope you don’t mind, but I procured your number from a friend of a friend.”

  I rolled my eyes, knowing that he wanted me to ask him who that friend of a friend was. Perhaps Tristan Herriot cared about connections, but I certainly didn’t. “What can I do for you Mr Herriot?” With a bit of luck, he’d get to the point.

  “I’m in a sticky situation. I know you weren’t in the house I was supposed to be showing Ms Wallace for long, but did you happen to notice any dogs outside, or hear them barking at all?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t remember hearing or seeing any dogs,” I told him, but then I paused, remembering something. “Actually, I think I did hear one bark when we came out of the house. I couldn’t say if it was close though.”

  “Just the one, eh? That’s a shame. I’ll have to pass along the bad news that the others must have gone before we arrived.” The relief in his voice told me that it wasn’t actually a shame at all - the owner of the missing dogs must have wanted to somehow blame his agency, and perhaps even the police, but he was hoping to weasel out of any culpability.

  “There are kennels in the garden of the property, which is where the owners kept the dogs. I’m sure you’ll have noticed that the property itself was vacant, but the owners have been paying a local to pop in to look after the dogs in their kennels and take them out, and so on.”

  I found I was frowning a little, wondering what kind of life that was for a dog.

  It was as if Tristan Herriot sensed my misgivings as he carried on. “It’s the darnedest thing… a beautiful pair of dogs have been stolen. Bred for hunting, of course, so they were a hardy type and their kennels were wonderfully built. In fact, when your friend told me about her own pets, it was what immediately made me think of the property I showed you. Although, I’m sorry for it now…”

  “Someone had to find him,” I reminded the agent.

  “Yes, quite,” Tristan replied in a voice that suggested that was all well and good, but he’d have rather that ‘someone’ hadn’t been him. To be fair to the man, I could empathise with that.

  “It’s such a shame if they’ve been stolen. I suppose the thief must have wanted young animals because the father was left behind. You must have heard him bark. The stolen pair were the last two puppies from a whole pack of fox hounds, but times change, don’t they?”

  “I very much hope they do,” I told him in a voice that said I wanted to believe that was the case, but truly, I wasn’t convinced. Fox hunting was still alive and well in the UK. It was the worst kept secret of the countryside.

  I’d been so annoyed by thoughts of fox hunting that I hadn’t focused on the loss of two dogs and what it might mean. “Do you know if they were particularly valuable dogs?” I asked the agent.

  “I couldn’t say. I’m more of a cat person, if truth be told - just like you,” he added, cringe-worthily. I knew it was an assumption formed from my comics.

  “There’s been a recent spree of dogs going missing. I believe they’re usually pedigree animals, but then - that’s the sort of dog people around here have…” I confessed, not knowing if the spree was to do with selling on stolen animals, or if it was something far darker. “It might be an idea to warn any clients of yours who might leave their animals outside. They’ve even been taken from houses.”

  “I’ll let it be known on the grapevine,” the agent assured me.

  He cleared his throat in a subtle manner and then oh so casually dropped what I realised was his real reason for having called me up in the first place. “By the way… was my associate Ashley already there when you arrived to look around the property?”

  “No. He was a little bit late. We were there before him.”

  “Oh, hmmm. I suppose that does make sense. It would have been tight for him to get there on time after I realised I wasn’t going to be punctual. I’m just trying to piece this whole mess together. All of the estate agents in town want it neatly wrapped up. An owner of an estate agency, left dead in a client’s bed after what looks like some rather saucy shenanigans… well, it’s just bad for business, isn’t it?”

  “Terrible,” I said, not thinking about his business but more about the man who’d died. However, I knew there was no sense in arguing with someone like the man I was on the phone to. “You said that you were sharing the key with other agents? Who showed the house before you?”

  “It was definitely Farley and Sons who showed it last. I remember Esme, one of their agents, coming to collect the key. I don’t remember seeing her bring it back. I asked around and no one else saw who returned it either. But it was back on the hook before your visit. I saw it there myself. It’s like some kind of magic trick.”

  I silently thought that it was more like a murder trick.

  “Do you think Esme might have done it?” I asked.

  Tristan let out a bitter laugh. “I doubt that very much. She’s far too smart to put the key back. Far too smart to be stuck working for Farley and Sons. Anyway, Harry may have been a nightmare to work for, but she’d stuck it out for years. And if you're thinking she might have been seeing him behind his other filly’s back, you’d be mistaken. Esme Orwell has far more expensive tastes than Harry Farley could ever cater for.” There was a rueful note in his voice when he said it.

  “Back to square one then,” I said aloud, frustrated equally by the man I was talking to and the lack of anything useful learned.

  “Indeed. Would you tell your friend that I’d love to show her some more houses? I think I’ve got one or two that would be absolutely perfect for…”

  I hung up before he could finish and then turned my phone off. I’d had more than enough of Tristan Herriot for one day.

  3

  The Terrible Truth

  The next day, Tiff paid a visit to The Lucky Zoo. I’d just dropped a blood and frozen meat ice cube into the lions’ enclosure when she rounded the corner and waved at me.

  She glanced down at the meaty offering. “I think I’ll be sticking to normal ice-cream, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “I had wondered why my ‘meat surprise’ ice lollies weren’t selling at The Wild Spot,” I joked back.

  “Ew,” Tiff said with a cheerful grin.

  I gently raised my eyebrows at her and the grin widened
.

  “I told him,” she revealed. “He says he thinks it’s probably his fault, as he can remember a time when…” Tiff waved a hand. “Anyway, he’s really pleased and said I should have told him sooner. Of course, it’s still too soon to tell anyone else about it yet, but isn’t that wonderful? He says it’s everything he’s ever dreamed of.”

  “I’m so pleased for you!” I told my best friend, giving her a hug, which got a little more gentle when I wondered if hugging too hard was a bad thing.

  “Silly, it’s fine,” she muttered, knowing what I was doing.

  Her eyes filled with steely resolve. “I came here to ask if you’d go house-hunting with me again? I know the last time was…”

  “…Unexpectedly traumatic?” I finished for her when she couldn’t find the words.

  “Yes, exactly. But Mr Herriot assured me he’s got some lovely properties and he was really nice about the whole thing. It’s not his fault that someone was murdered in a property he was supposed to be showing us around, is it?”

  “I suppose not,” I allowed, but it was certainly grudging.

  Tiff raised her eyebrows. “Do you suspect him?” She was only half-joking.

  “They were clearly rivals,” I said with the slightest of shrugs. In reality, I had no idea who was responsible for Harry Farley’s death. The evidence that had been displayed in such a grotesque manner hinted to me that a woman was responsible for murder, especially as I knew Mr Farley had liked women - lots of women, as his ex-wife could attest. But I surely wasn’t the only person to know that about him, and the killer might have used that very assumption to his or her advantage.

  “Will you come with me?” Tiff asked after I’d probably stared into space for several moments.

  “Of course I will. I assume Alex is too busy working on the new case?”

  Tiff nodded, looking a little morose. “He was really upset that I saw the scene, but for some reason, that actually annoyed me. I know he’s seen bad stuff like that before, but I’m not a snowflake! I’ve seen my fair share of tough things.” Something about the heat of her words hinted to me that I wasn’t entirely guiltless in this accusation. Had I, too, made the wrong assumption that Tiff would be traumatised by what she’d seen? On the surface, Tiff was all sweetness and friendliness, but she had a steel core that I’d seen from time to time. I thought I might have forgotten that, just like the detective.