Difficult Run (15 page)

“An ape? Was it a gorilla?” M.J. asked.

“No, it wasn’t a gorilla,” Ollie replied.
 
“I read every issue of
National Geographic
I could get my hands on and I never saw a picture of an ape like this one.
 
This thing was as big as a gorilla, close to six feet tall when it stood up.
 
But its face wasn’t all smushed in like a gorilla.
 
It looked more like the face of a chimpanzee; you know, lighter in color with pink lips and rounded features.
 
I’ll tell you something else, it was mean as all get out.
 
Boys would shine lights in its eyes and it would grab the bars on its cage and bare its teeth, ready to kill them.
 
Mr. Miller, who managed the park, had to put up a fence so people couldn’t get too close.”

“So you were here when the Great Flood of 1936 happened?” M.J. asked.

“Oh my, yes.
 
I’ll never forget it!” Ollie replied.
 
“We were at our house and Mr. Miller went racing by in his Model-T headed for the park—I guess he’d gone home for supper.
 
You could hear people yelling and screaming down in the park and the sound of cars farther down Georgetown Pike trying to all get out at once—the trolley had gone out of business a few years before, so by then most people came by automobile.
 
Well, anyway, my sister and I just had to see what was going on, so we got on my bicycle—I was pedaling and she was on the handlebars—and we went zooming down the path that ran next to the trolley tracks.
 
My parents would have killed us if they’d known we were doing it!

“Well, anyway, when we got down to the old trolley station, we jumped off the bike and ran out onto the little observation deck.
 
What a sight!
 
The water was already over the entire area and you could see that it was rising really fast.
 
People were running to their cars and some were just running up to higher ground.
 
The water reached the dance pavilion and its floor started to lift up. It didn’t take long before it began to float away toward the river.
 
If it hadn’t been for two big trees, it would have gone right down the Potomac.

“Then we saw Mr. Miller running up from the Old Carriage Road—I guess he couldn’t get his Model-T by all the cars trying to get out.
 
He started running around the park yelling at people to leave, then he took off toward the zoo, which was up on a little knoll away from the rest of the park.
 
The water was still rising really fast and it was going to reach the animals in a matter of minutes, so he ran along opening up the pens and shooing them out so they could get to safety.
 
But when he got to the ape cage, he didn’t try to shoo them out.
 
He just took off the lock and ran away as fast as he could.”

“Them?”
 
M.J. asked.
 
“There was more than one?”

“Yes,” Ollie replied. “There was a big one and a smaller one.
 
They said they were a male and a female.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

M
.J. STAYED AND LISTENED to Ollie a little while longer.
 
She and her sister had watched until the rising water threatened the trolley station where they were standing.
 
All of the released animals had fled into the forest, including the apes, which had easily pushed open the door to their cage.

It took several days for the flood waters to recede and when they did most of the animals had begun wandering back toward the zoo.
 
Several had to be tracked down and led back, but eventually they were all returned to their enclosures—all, that is, but the apes, who were nowhere to be found.
 
Mr. Miller had searched for them in the deep forest for several days without luck, but he had died of a heart attack about two weeks after the flood and no one else ever took up the task of finding the apes.

As M.J. was leaving, she said, “Thank you for providing so much information. May I come back and visit if I have any more questions?”

“Any time, dear.
 
I’m usually right here at the house, so just stop by,” Ollie replied.

“One other thing,” M.J. said.
 
“What was Mr. Murphy’s first name?”

“Kevin, I believe,” Ollie replied.

“Thank you again,” M.J. said.

M.J. headed back to Great Falls Park.
 
As she drove, she processed her conversation with Ollie Coppin, trying to figure out how, or really
if
, it might fit into her investigation.
 
She kept replaying in her head her father’s quote from Sherlock Holmes:
When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth
.

When she pulled into the parking lot at the Visitor Center, Dodd was walking to his car.
 
He put the stack of clothes and a file folder on the passenger seat and walked over to M.J.

“How’d things go with Mrs. Coppin?” he asked.

“What a nice lady,” M.J. replied. “I got a lot of good information and I’m going to follow up on a few things.
 
Can I use the phone in your office while you’re gone?” she asked.

“Sure,” he replied.

“I’ll stop by in the morning and tell you some more about the conversation,” she said.

“See you then,” Dodd said as he climbed into his car.

M.J. sat down at Dodd’s desk.
 
Her first call was to Becky Whitmer at Fairfax County Police Central Records Division.

“Hello Becky, this is M.J. Powers from the Park Police.
 
I was in the other day,” she said.

“Sure, M.J.
 
What can I do for you?” Becky said.

“Well I have a favor to ask,” M.J. said.
 
I’m looking for a report on a suspected homicide in the spring of 1942.”

“Wow! You’re really going back! We have reports from then; they’re just not in the computerized database.
 
I can check the hard copy files for you though.
 
What’s the name and approximate date?” Becky asked.

“The victim was Kevin Murphy of Forestville.
 
The incident probably occurred in April or May of ’42,” M.J. replied.

“I’ll take a look and let you know,” she said.

“Thanks.
 
If you find anything, just e-mail it to the address on the card I gave you,” M.J. said.

Next, M.J. called Dr. Martin at the Medical Examiner’s office.

“Hello, Doctor.
 
This is Detective Powers. I have a favor to ask,” she said.

“Sure, Detective, what is it?” he asked.

“There may have been an autopsy performed in a suspected homicide case in 1942.
 
I’d like to get a copy if possible,” she said.

“Well, this office didn’t even exist in 1942.
 
Autopsies were handled back then by the county coroner.
 
All of the original records are at the Fairfax County Courthouse, but we have microfiche copies here, so we might be able to find it for you.
 
What was the name of the deceased and around what date would the autopsy have been performed?” he asked.

She gave him the information, thanked him and asked that a copy be e-mailed to her. “If you find anything, can I give you a call to discuss it?” she asked.

“Always glad to talk to you, Detective.
 
You seem to be going pretty far back if this is the same investigation we discussed before,” he replied.

“It’s the same investigation and, yes, this is further back than I ever imagined,” she said.

Next, she got the number from information for the National Zoo.
 
When she identified herself and asked to speak with someone who dealt with apes, she was put through to Dr. Julia Matheson.

“Hello, Doctor Matheson. This is Detective Powers of the Park Police.
 
I was wondering if I might stop by and ask you a few questions?” M.J. said.

There was a moment of silence, then Dr. Matheson replied somewhat curtly, “Does this have to do with some kind of investigation of the zoo or myself, because if it does I’ll have to refer the matter to our legal counsel’s office.”

M.J. quickly replied, “Oh, no . . . nothing like that, Doctor.
 
I just need some animal-related information for an investigation I’m conducting and I thought you might be a good person to talk to.”

“Well, I can’t imagine what help I could be, but if you want to stop by, I’ll be in my office.
 
It’s right next to the Great Ape House,” Dr. Matheson said.

M.J. arrived at the National Zoo about thirty minutes later, parked her car in the “Official Use Only” lot and walked to the Great Ape House, which was located toward the back of the sprawling complex.
 
There was a small one-story brick building next to it with a sign that said “Offices – Not Open to the Public.”
 
M.J. entered the lobby and identified herself to the receptionist, who called Dr. Matheson on the intercom.

After a few minutes, a door opened and a petite, trim woman in her forties with dark, close-cropped hair entered.
 
She extended her hand and said, “Detective Powers, I’m Dr. Matheson.
 
Please, come back to my office.”

The sign outside her office said “Julia Anne Matheson, D.V.M. – Chief Veterinarian.”
 
As they entered she said, “I’m sorry if I was a little snappy on the phone.
 
We don’t get many calls here from the police.
 
Please, have a seat.”

“That’s quite alright, Doctor.
 
I should have made myself more clear from the beginning,” M.J. replied.

“So, what kind of information are you looking for?” Dr. Matheson asked.

“Actually,” M.J. said, “I’m trying to identify a particular type of ape that’s been described to me as large like a gorilla—almost six feet tall when it’s erect—but has a facial structure and coloring more like a chimpanzee.”

Dr. Matheson thought for a moment.
 
“What you are describing sounds like a Bili Ape,” she said.

“How is that spelled?” M.J. asked.

“It’s spelled B-I-L-I, but pronounced
bee-lee
,” Dr. Matheson replied.

“Do you have one here at the zoo?” M.J. asked.

“Definitely not, Detective,” Dr. Matheson replied.
 
“No one from the West has even seen one in at least forty years.
 
May I ask why you need this information?”

“I can’t really tell you that right now Doctor,” M.J. replied.
 
“It has to do with an ongoing investigation.”

“Well, I guess I understand,” Dr. Matheson said, “but I’m dying of curiosity and hope you’ll get back to me when you can.
 
Now, as for the Bili Ape, the person you should be talking to is Dr. Steve Peterson.
 
He’s a primatologist at the National Geographic Society and one of the leading authorities in the world on that species.
 
If you like, I’ll give him a call right now and see if he’s available.”

“I’d certainly appreciate that,” M.J. said.

Matheson turned the knob on an old-fashioned Rolodex on her desk, flipped through some cards and then dialed a number on her phone.

“Hello, Steve.
 
This is Julia Matheson at the National Zoo,” she said.
 
“I’m fine, thank you.
 
I hope you’re doing well too.
 
Haven’t seen you since we spoke at that conference in San Diego about a year ago.
 
Listen, the reason for my call is I have a detective from the Park Police sitting in my office and she has some questions about Bili Apes . . . No, she couldn’t tell me why and probably won’t be able to tell you either, but I thought you would be the best person for her to talk to . . . That’s great!
 
I’ll send her down. Hope to see you soon.”

She turned to M.J. and said, “He’s in his office and said he can see you now if that’s convenient.
 
He’s in the main building on 17th Street.”

“I know right where it is.
 
Thank you for all your help,” M.J. said and shook her hand.

M.J. drove directly to the National Geographic Society and parked about a block away.
 
It was an imposing building with a red tile roof and columns over the main entrance.
 
There was a long line of tourists waiting to enter, but M.J. bypassed them and used her badge to enter through the “Employees Only” door.

Dr. Peterson came down and met her in the lobby. He was easily six feet tall, thin, probably in his mid-forties, had curly salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. He wore wire-rimmed glasses that framed his deep-set brown eyes.

“Hi, Detective, I’m Steve Peterson,” he said, extending his hand.

“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” M.J. said as they shook hands.

“No problem.
 
Let’s go up to my office to talk,” he said.

They used the elevator to reach his office on the third floor.
 
The plaque on the door said “Stephen L. Peterson, Ph.D.” It was a relatively small office, with a window that looked out on the busy 17th Street.
 
His desk was piled with papers and the only wall treatment was a large map of the African continent.

“Please, have a seat,” he said, pointing to the only chair that was not stacked with papers. “So, Julia says you want to know about Bili Apes and won’t be able to tell me why.”

“That’s essentially correct,” M.J. replied. “As I told Dr. Matheson, I’ll be glad to explain the reason for my questions when I can, but right now that’s not possible.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “So what, exactly, do you want to know?”

“Well, for starters, what exactly is a Bili Ape?” she asked.

“That’s a good question,” he replied, “and the answer is that we’re not really sure.
 
They are thought to be either a very large chimpanzee or a new species of gorilla with chimpanzee-like features.
 
This has been the subject of a lot of discussion and research, but thus far there’s no real consensus.”

“Dr. Matheson said no one from the West has actually seen one, so I guess you haven’t either,” M.J. said.

“Unfortunately, that is correct,” he replied.
 
“I have been to the Democratic Republic of the Congo three times, specifically to search for the Bili Ape.
 
I have yet to see one, although I have interviewed a lot of natives who claim they have.
 
I have seen purported skulls, footprints, droppings and nesting areas, but no live animals.
 
Part of the problem is even determining where they live.
 
They used to inhabit the Bili Forest, from which they get their name, but all of the civil strife and deforestation in the region has probably driven them into the hills.”