Die Again (27 page)

“How does cougar behavior relate to an ME’s case?” he asked.

“I want to know more about their hunting patterns. How they kill.”

He frowned at her. “Has there been a cougar attack in the state? That would certainly support the rumors I’ve been hearing.”

“What rumors?”

“About cougars in Massachusetts. There are reported sightings throughout New England, but right now they’re the equivalent of ghosts, sighted but never confirmed. Except for the one killed in Connecticut a few years ago.”

“Connecticut? Was he an escaped pet?”

“No, that animal was definitely wild. It was hit by an SUV on a
highway in Milford. According to DNA analysis, he migrated here from a wild cougar group in South Dakota. So these cats have definitely made it to the East Coast. They’re probably right here, in Massachusetts.”

“I find that scary. But you sound almost thrilled by the prospect.”

He gave a sheepish laugh. “Shark experts love sharks. Dinosaur guys are nuts about tyrannosaurs. It doesn’t mean they want to run into one, but we all share that sense of wonder about big predators. You know, cougars used to own this continent, coast to coast, before we chased them out. I think it’s pretty exciting that they’re coming back.”

The family with the child had left the exhibit and moved on down the zoo path. Once again the cougar’s gaze turned to Maura. “If they’re here in the state,” she said, “there goes any thought of a peaceful walk in the woods.”

“I wouldn’t get freaked out about it. Look how many cougars there are in California. Night-motion cameras have caught them wandering around in LA’s Griffith Park. It’s rare that you hear about an incident, although they have attacked joggers and bicyclists. They’re primed to chase fleeing prey, so movement catches their eye.”

“Then we should stand and face them? Fight back?”

“To be honest, you’d never see one coming. By the time you’re aware he’s there, he’s already sinking his jaws in your neck.”

“Like Debbie Lopez.”

Rhodes paused. Said quietly: “Yes. Like poor Debbie.” He looked at her. “So
has
there been a cougar attack here?”

“It’s a case from Nevada. The Sierras.”

“These cats are definitely there. What were the circumstances?”

“The victim was a female backpacker. Her body had been scavenged by birdlife by the time she was found, but several details made the ME consider cougar attack. First, the victim was disemboweled.”

“A not-infrequent finding in a large-cat kill.”

“The other thing that puzzled the ME was where the body was found. It was up in a tree.”

He stared at her. “A tree?”

“She was draped over a branch about ten feet above the ground. The question is, how did she get up there? Could a cougar have dragged her?”

He thought about this for a moment. “It’s not classic cougar behavior.”

“After the leopard killed Debbie Lopez, he dragged her up onto the ledge. You said he did it out of instinct, to protect his kill.”

“Yes, that behavior’s typical of an African leopard. In the bush, they face competition from other large carnivores—lions, hyenas, crocodiles. Hauling a large kill up a tree is how they keep it away from scavengers. Once the kill is safely cached in the branches, the leopard can feed at its leisure. In Africa, when you see a dead impala up in a tree, there’s only one animal who could have put it there.”

“What about cougars? Do they use trees?”

“The North American cougar doesn’t face the same scavenger competition that carnivores do in Africa. A cougar might haul prey into heavy brush or into a cave before feeding. But drag it up a tree?” He shook his head. “It would be unusual. That’s more like African leopard behavior.”

She turned toward the enclosure again. The cat’s eyes were still riveted on her, as if only she could satisfy his hunger. “Tell me more about leopards,” she said softly.

“I highly doubt there’s a leopard running around in Nevada, unless it escaped from some zoo.”

“Still, I’d like to know more about them. Their habits. Their hunting patterns.”

“Well, I’m most familiar with
Panthera pardus
, the African leopard. There are also a number of subspecies—
Panthera orientalis, Panthera fusca, Panthera pardus japonensis
—but they’re not so well studied. Before we hunted them nearly to extinction, you could find leopards across Asia, Africa, even as far west as England. It’s sad to see how few of them are left in the world. Especially since we owe them a debt for boosting us up the evolutionary ladder.”

“How did they do that?”

“There’s this theory that early hominids in Africa fed themselves not by hunting, but by stealing meat that leopards had stored in trees. It would have been the equivalent of a fast-food outlet. No need to chase down an impala yourself. Just wait for the leopard to make the kill and drag it up a tree. He’ll eat his fill and leave for a few hours. That’s when you snatch the rest of the carcass. That ready supply of protein might have boosted the brainpower of our ancestors.”

“The leopard wouldn’t stop you?”

“Radio collar monitoring confirms that leopards don’t stay with their kills during the day. They’ll gorge, leave for a while, then return hours later to feed again. Since the carcasses are often disemboweled, the meat stays good for a few days. It gave us hominids a chance to sneak in and steal dinner. But you’re right, it wouldn’t have been a risk-free proposition. You find plenty of prehistoric hominid bones in ancient leopard caves. While we were stealing their dinner, they sometimes made us
theirs
.”

She thought of the cat in her own home, and how it watched her as intently as this cougar was doing now. The connection between felines and humans was more complex than between mere predator and prey. A house cat might sit in your lap and eat from your hand, but it still had the instincts of a hunter.

As do we
.

“They’re solitary animals?” she asked.

“Yes, like most felids. Lions are the exception. Leopards in particular are solitary. Females leave their cubs alone for periods up to a week, because they prefer to hunt and forage by themselves. By a year and a half, those cubs have left Mom and they’re off to establish their own home range. Except when they breed, they keep to themselves. Very secretive, very hard to spot. They’re nocturnal hunters with a reputation for stealth, so you can see why they held such a powerful place in mythology. It would have made the darkness terrifying for ancient man, knowing that, on any given night, you might find a leopard’s jaws clamped around your throat.”

She thought of Debra Lopez, for whom that terror would have been the last thing she registered. She glanced toward the leopard enclosure just a few yards away. Since the zookeeper’s death, a temporary screen had been erected to hide the cage, but two zoo visitors stood there now, snapping cell phone photos. Death was a rock star who always drew an audience.

“You said big cats disembowel their kills,” she said.

“It’s just a consequence of how they feed. Leopards will rip open the body cavity from the rear. That releases the entrails, which they’ll consume within the first twenty-four hours. It keeps the meat from decaying too quickly, so the cat can take its time feeding.” He paused as his cell phone rang. With an apologetic look, he answered the call. “Hello? Oh God, Marcy, I completely forgot about it. I’ll be right there.” He hung up with a sigh. “Sorry, but they’re expecting me at a board meeting. It’s the eternal hunt for funds.”

“Thank you for seeing me. You’ve been a big help.”

“Anytime.” He started down the path, then turned and called: “If you ever want a private after-hours tour, let me know!”

She watched him hurry away around the bend, and suddenly she was alone, shivering in the wind.

No, not entirely alone. Through the bars of the empty leopard’s cage, she glimpsed blond hair, tawny as a lion’s mane, and broad shoulders clad in a brown fleece jacket. It was the zoo’s veterinarian, Dr. Oberlin. For a moment they eyed each other like two wary creatures who have unexpectedly come face-to-face in the bush. Then he gave a brusque nod, a wave, and vanished back into the camouflaging shrubbery.

As invisible as a cougar, she thought. I never even knew he was there.

“I
F INDEED THESE VARIOUS ATTACKS IN DIFFERENT STATES ARE LINKED,
then we’re dealing with a set of highly complex ritual behaviors,” said Dr. Lawrence Zucker. A criminal psychologist who served as consultant to Boston PD, Zucker’s pale, hulking figure was a familiar sight in the homicide unit. From his seat at the head of the table, he eyed Maura and the four detectives who’d gathered in the conference room that morning. There was something disturbingly reptilian about Zucker, and as his gaze swept past Maura, it felt like the cold flick of a lizard’s tongue on her face.

“Before we get ahead of ourselves,” said Detective Crowe, “we haven’t yet established that these attacks
are
linked. Dr. Isles came up with that theory, not us.”

“And we’re still digging into it,” said Jane. “Frost and I drove up to Maine yesterday to look into the case that happened five years ago. A victim named Brandon Tyrone, who was found gutted and hanging from a tree.”

“And what do you think?” asked Zucker.

“I can’t say the picture’s any clearer. Maine State Police are focused
on only one suspect, a man named Nick Thibodeau. He and the victim knew each other. They may have had a falling-out, which triggered the killing.”

Crowe said, “I called Montana and Nevada, spoke to detectives about their cases. They believe cougar attacks could explain both incidents. I don’t see how the out-of-state cases connect to ours, or to the homicide in Maine.”

“It’s the
symbolism
that connects them all,” said Maura, unable to hold her silence. Neither a cop nor a psychologist, she was once again the intruder at this meeting, and had come at the invitation of Dr. Zucker. As they all turned to look at her, she felt the wall of skepticism looming in her way. A wall she’d have to batter down. Crowe had all force fields up. Both Frost and Jane were trying to look open-minded, but she’d heard the lack of enthusiasm in Jane’s voice. As for Johnny Tam, he remained as opaque as ever, keeping his opinions to himself.

“After I spoke to Dr. Rhodes about leopard biology, I realized
that
was the common thread. The way a leopard hunts, the way it feeds, the way it elevates its kill. We see it in all these victims.”

“So who are we looking for?” Crowe sniggered. “Leopard Man?”

“You make light of it, Detective Crowe,” said Zucker. “But don’t dismiss Dr. Isles’s theory out of hand. When she called me about this yesterday, I was doubtful, too. Then I reviewed those out-of-state homicides.”

“Nevada and Montana weren’t necessarily homicides,” Crowe pointed out. “Again, the ME’s say those
could
have been cougar attacks.”

“Dr. Rhodes said cougars don’t normally drag their kills into trees,” said Maura. “And what happened to the other members of both parties? There were four backpackers in the Nevada group. Only one was found. There were three hunters in Montana, and the remains of only two were found. Cougars couldn’t have wiped them
all
out.”

“Maybe a family of cougars.”

“It wasn’t a cougar at all,” said Maura.

“You know, Dr. Isles, I’m having a little trouble keeping up with all your changing theories.” Crowe looked around the table. “First, we hear this killer hates hunters and that’s why he hangs and guts them. Now it’s, what? Some crazy guy who thinks he’s a leopard?”

“He’s not necessarily insane.”

“Hey, if I went around pretending I was a leopard,” said Crowe, “you’d call the guys in white coats to have me shut away.”

Jane muttered: “Please, could we arrange that now?”

Dr. Zucker said, “You need to hear what Dr. Isles has to say.” He looked at Maura. “Why don’t you describe for us, once again, the condition of Mr. Gott’s body.”

“We’ve all read the autopsy report,” said Crowe.

“Nevertheless, let her describe his wounds again.”

Maura nodded. “There was a depressed fracture of the right parietal bone, compatible with a blow from a blunt object. There were also multiple parallel lacerations of the thorax, probably inflicted postmortem. There were crush injuries of the thyroid cartilage, which most likely resulted in asphyxiation. A single incision extended from the sternum’s xiphoid process all the way to the pubis, and viscera of both the thoracic and abdominal cavities were removed.” She paused. “Would you like me to continue?”

“No, I’d say that paints a sufficient picture. Now let me read you all a doctor’s description. It’s from another crime scene.” Zucker slipped on his glasses. “ ‘The victim is a woman, about eighteen years of age, found dead in her hut at daybreak. Her throat was crushed and her face and neck were torn open by what seem to be multiple claw marks, the flesh so horribly mutilated that it appears partially devoured. The intestines and liver are missing, but here I note the peculiar detail of how cleanly one end of the intestine was incised. Upon further examination, I note that the abdomen has been sliced open with a peculiarly straight and clean incision—a wound that no wild creature I am familiar with could inflict. Thus, despite my initial impression that this poor soul was a victim of leopard or lion attack,
I must conclude that the perpetrator, without a doubt, was human.’ ” He set down the page he’d been reading. “Surely you all agree the report bears an uncanny resemblance to what Dr. Isles just described?”