Die Again (Rizzoli & Isles, #11)(22)

“To this particular donor, it is. It’s a win–win proposition. Kovo was doomed anyway. We get a big influx of cash to stay afloat, and the donor gets a rare prize for his trophy room. His only stipulation was that it be kept quiet. And he specified Leon Gott as his taxidermist, because Gott is one of the best. And I believe they’re already acquainted.” Mikovitz sighed. “Anyway, that’s why I was reluctant to mention it. The arrangement is sensitive. It could put our institution in a bad light.”

“Because you’re selling rare animals to the highest bidder?”

“I was against this deal from the start,” Rhodes said to Mikovitz. “I told you it would come back to bite us in the ass. Now we’re going to get a shitload of publicity.”

“Look, if we can keep it quiet, we can salvage this. I just need to know that the pelt is safe. That it’s properly handled and cared for.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Dr. Mikovitz,” said Frost, “but we found no pelt.”

“What?”

“There was no leopard pelt in Gott’s residence.”

“You mean—it was stolen?”

“We don’t know. It’s just not there.”

Mikovitz slumped back in his chair, stunned. “Oh God. It’s all fallen apart. Now we’ll have to return his money.”

“Who is your donor?” asked Jane.

“This information can’t get out. The public can’t know about it.”

“Who is he?”

It was Rhodes who answered, with undisguised scorn in his voice. “Jerry O’Brien.”

Jane and Frost glanced at each other in surprise. “You mean the Jerry O’Brien? The guy on the radio?” asked Frost.

“Boston’s own Big Mouth O’Brien. How do you think our animal-loving patrons are going to feel when they hear we cut a deal with the shock jock? The guy who brags about his hunting trips to Africa? About the fun he has blasting elephants to smithereens? His whole persona is about glorifying blood sport.” Rhodes gave a snort of disgust. “If only those poor animals could shoot back.”

“Sometimes, Alan, we have to make a deal with the devil,” said Mikovitz.

“Well, the deal’s off now, since we have nothing to offer him.”

Mikovitz groaned. “This is a disaster.”

“Didn’t I predict that?”

“Easy for you to stay above it all! You have only your damn cats to worry about. I’m charged with the survival of this institution.”

“Yeah, that’s the advantage of working with cats. I know I can’t trust them. And they don’t try to convince me otherwise.” Rhodes glanced down at his ringing cell phone. Almost simultaneously the office door flew open and the secretary burst into the room.

“Dr. Rhodes! They need you there now.”

“What is it?”

“There’s been an accident at the leopard enclosure. One of the keepers—they need the rifle!”

“No. No.” Rhodes sprang from his chair and pushed past her, out of the office.

It took only an instant for Jane to decide. She jumped up and followed him. By the time she made it down the stairs and out of the building, Rhodes was already far ahead of her, racing past startled zoo visitors. Jane had to sprint to keep up. As she rounded a curve in the path, she came up against a dense wall of people standing outside the leopard enclosure.

“Oh my God,” someone gasped. “Is she dead?”

Jane shoved her way through the crowd until she reached the railing. At first all she saw through the cage bars was the camouflaging habitat of greenery and fake boulders. Then, almost hidden among the branches, something moved. It was a tail, twitching atop a rocky ledge.

Jane moved sideways, trying to get a better view of the animal. Only as she reached the very edge of the enclosure did she see the blood: a ribbon of it, bright and glistening, streaming down the boulder. Dangling from the rocky shelf above was a human arm. A woman’s arm. Crouched over its kill, the leopard stared straight at Jane, as if daring her to steal its prize.

Jane raised her weapon and paused, her finger on the trigger. Was the victim in her line of fire? She could not see past the lip of the ledge, could not tell if the woman was even alive.

“Don’t shoot!” she heard Dr. Rhodes yell from the rear of the cage. “I’m going to lure him into the night room!”

“There’s no time, Rhodes. We need to get her out of there!”

“I don’t want him killed.”

“What about her?”

Rhodes banged on the bars. “Rafiki, meat! Come on, come into the night cage!”

Fuck this, thought Jane, and once again she raised her weapon. The animal was in plain view, a straight shot to the head. There was a chance the bullet might hit the woman as well, but if they didn’t get her out of there soon, she was dead anyway. With both hands steady on the grip, Jane slowly squeezed the trigger. Before she could fire, the crack of a rifle startled her.

The leopard dropped and tumbled off the ledge, into the bushes.

Seconds later a blond man dressed in a zoo uniform darted across the cage, toward the boulders. “Debbie?” he called out. “Debbie!”

Jane glanced around for a way into the cage and spotted a side path labeled STAFF ONLY. She followed it around to the rear of the enclosure, where the door into the cage hung ajar.