Binky turned to face Eudes. “She tells me everything she does. Says she can’t even feel them inside. They’re no good at it, you know. Says I make her feel wonderful and I want to marry her.”
“And support her on your salary or will you let her keep working here?” Eudes asked sharply, as Mignon, her eyes wide, observed.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you’d better figure it out. And don’t upset Georgina. Then we’ll all pay. Stick to business.”
“What do you know, Eudes? I don’t think you ever had a woman. It’s the best feeling in the world.”
Eudes’s face darkened but he kept control. “The best feeling in the world is respecting a woman worth your time. I don’t want some silly fool fopping around about bonnets and bows. I don’t want some whore, either. A woman can take you down in a hurry. Think. And how can you support children? Think, Binky.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Mignon found her voice, surprised herself. “Binky, he’s telling you the truth because he likes you. He wants you to succeed.”
Binky had sense enough not to sass Mignon. “I know it looks bad, but we’ll find a way. And I will do my job. I won’t disappoint Georgina. Deborah and I will need the money.”
Eudes slapped his hands on the sides of his thighs. Mignon returned to her papers, which she’d slipped onto the shelf under the long table when they became really busy.
Putting them on the cleaned table she read, “B is for bonnet and bows.”
Eudes looked at her and couldn’t help it; he laughed.
November 8, 2016 Tuesday
“The cerise tie.” Ed Clark, animated as always, motioned to his own tie. “I’m far more conservative. Just popped right out at me.”
Cooper sat across from Ed, a man of middle age in excellent condition, in the spartan lounge at the sheriff’s office. Ed lived in Waynesboro but had driven over for an afternoon meeting with Susan Tucker, MaryJo Cranston, Liz Potter, and Harry for the Virginians for Sustainable Wildlife. As this was election day, they didn’t know if the direction of the American public’s desires would be clear by the afternoon, but today was the one time most of the group could meet with him. While the president could upgrade or downgrade focus on issues, the rank and file of the various agencies such as the Forestry Department, the amorphous and confusing Environmental Protection Agency, and others would remain the same, for a time, anyway.
Ed Clark, the founder and director of the Wildlife Center, traveled all over the world at various governments’ expense. He had traveled to Russia, South Africa, Brazil, European countries. His expertise, transmitted with energy and fair-mindedness, ensured his welcome. He was also called upon to testify in court cases as to the financial damage caused by poaching, killing, defiling animal habitats. He was friendly but formidable.
“Pierre Rice called upon you?”
“He did and he drove over to Lyndhurst where we have our headquarters, where many of the animals rescued are rehabilitating. He asked for a tour, which I gave him. Clearly intelligent and well informed. I liked him immediately. Of course, the tie made me like him even more. A man’s got to have…” he hesitated, then added, “…guts to wear cerise.”
Cooper smiled. “Maybe women do, too. You obviously observed him carefully.”
“Carefully. His shoes had to have cost at least eight hundred dollars. They were butter-thin Italian calfskin. He wore gray slacks and a well-cut, bespoke, probably, navy blazer. He was not at all what I expected.”
“Which was?” Her pencil was poised over her reporter’s notebook.
“A policy geek.”
Cooper studied the handsome man before her. If his hair had not been silver, she would have assumed he was perhaps in his early forties, but she couldn’t discern his age. High energy, a man who loved what he did, one of the lucky ones with a grand passion in his life, which also included his wife, a beauty. Ed was a celebrity of sorts, and many who knew him or thought they did all mentioned Kim, his wife.
“Narrow, rectangular black glasses, shirt hanging out of his pants, sweater with a rolled-neck collar.” She described her version of a geek.
“Don’t forget the fact that the latest high-tech cellphone would be attached to him like an enema bag,” Ed noted acerbically.
Cooper roared, she couldn’t help it. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Collecting herself, she returned to Pierre. “So Pierre Rice seemed to be in a class by himself?”
“Yes. Easy to talk to, no throwing his weight around, and as I mentioned, it was obvious he was well educated, well connected, and rich, rich with taste. I would have killed for those shoes.” He stopped himself. “Sorry, wrong thing to say under the circumstances.”
“Actually, maybe not. Let me show you the photograph forensics took when we found the body. It’s not too bad.” She scrolled up the hooded figure on her portable computer, gratis the county.
Ed shook his head. “I’m sorry and I hardly knew him. I can imagine his friends and family are inconsolable.”
“Up to a point. Everyone knew his work would take a dangerous turn. His sister, Marvella Lawson—”
He interrupted, “The Marvella Lawson?”
She nodded. “She’s hit hard but in her way understands. He did not discuss his cases during or after with his sister or his friends. Finding your card wedged between the Tahoe seat and center console was our first real break. That and a cage in the back.”
Ed peered at the picture of the supine figure again. “Like Sherlock Holmes.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Disguises. Holmes would go out in disguise. No one would pay much attention to a black fellow in a hoodie.”
She thought. “Yes. But someone was and someone was on to him or at least whatever it was that he was investigating—which is why I must ask you the nature of his questions.”
“Certainly. One of my functions when called into court on a black market case—”
She held up her hand. “Black market?”
“For feathers, animal parts. You would not believe how lucrative it is. Billions. And this black market is worldwide, but it has flashpoints, if you will. He wanted to know about eagle feathers, not just the sale of them but who might be stockpiling them. He knew that thousands of cardinals, the state bird of Virginia, are being captured and sent overseas. Goldfinches, too. Huge market for them as well as bear claws, black bear gallbladders, antler.”
Cooper held up her hand again. “What for? Forgive me, Mr. Clark, gallbladders?”
“Ed. Please call me Ed.” He took a deep breath. “Our nation has many constituencies with different, um, spiritual ideas than our own. The eagle feathers, for instance, are vital to the Apaches for their ceremonies. They aren’t the only tribe cherishing eagle feathers for their regalia, but you get my idea. Asian men believe body parts of rare animals will restore their fading potency. Many cultures, not just African, believe rhino horn cures impotency. They even have special bowls for the ground powder. That’s just the people living in our own country. Look out at the world and you get an idea of how vast this killing, poaching, et cetera, is. If a species is thought to be near extinction—say, elephants—these criminals stockpile the parts and then raise the cost. Really raise the cost and as you probably understand, a man who can’t get an erection is ready to buy anything, pay any price.”
“Haven’t they heard of Viagra?”
“They come from different cultures. All some of them have to do, the really smart and rich ones, is declare the use of such animals is part of their right as Americans.”
“The First Amendment?”