Maggie said, “I'm going to find out.” And before I could stop her, she was up and heading for their table. My heart rate sped up like a revving outboard. Maggie walked by the oven and then around to the back side of the table. She slowed down to an agonizing pace as she approached the group from behind. She came right up to their backs and took a long look at their pad. They stayed oblivious, the whole group enraptured by their digital display. The maitre d' didn't stay so unaware. He was already crossing the floor, approaching Maggie and giving her the evil eye. Maggie saw him coming and set a brisk pace in the opposite direction. She joined me at the bar just in time to see the bartender take away our drinks with a scolding look. We skulked our way to the exit while the maitre d' dirty-looked us all the way out.
We went through the revolving doors and stepped into the rain, the maitre d' following us a half block to emphasize his point. He probably thought we were a couple thieves looking to make away with some high-tech swag, and he wanted to make it clear that we weren't welcome within half a block of his restaurant.
Maggie and I stepped under the awning of a cafe. Rain sheeted off the canvas, closing us in behind a curtain of water. Maggie's face was screwed up in thought.
“Well?” I asked.
“They were looking at stills. Nude photos.”
“And?”
“It was Adela Juarez. They were looking at nude shots of Adela Juarez.”
“It was that punk Raj. He probably talked her into letting him take some keepsakes then turned around and sold-”
“No,” she said. “There were bars.”
“Bars?”
“She was behind bars. Those pics were taken at the Zoo.”
My face must've screwed up just like hers as I tried to reason it out. How did these offworld tourists wind up with nude photos of Adela Juarez? Something was tickling the back of my brain. There was a memory back there if I could only pull it out of my head. “Pictures,” I finally said. “When I visited Adela, she asked me if I was there to take pictures.”
“Did you ask her why?”
“Yeah, but she didn't answer. I didn't think it was important, so I didn't push it.”
“We have to go to the Zoo.”
“Yeah.”
Maggie and I glided into the dock. I climbed out of the rented skiff and walked the short distance to land, the Zoo lights barely visible through the downpour. I looked back at Maggie, who was staying nice and dry under the skiff's tin roof, and then approached the newsstand, the same one I'd visited both just before and just after my finger-breaking episode with Ian. I took up a stool under the overhang and ordered up a cup of stale coffee.
I watched as boats pulled into the dock and discharged night shift zookeepers who filed up the riverbank steps to report to work. Soon thereafter, other guards started coming down the steps as the shift change progressed. I kept my panama angled over my face and kept my eyes zeroed on the wide-waisted.
I thought I saw him struggling his mass down the stairs, walking like a two-year-old, dropping one foot down to the next stair and bringing his other foot down to that same step before trying the next one. Coworkers passed him by as he kept up his slow descent. It was him. I could see his crumbcatcher beard. He was the supervisor, the one who had called Ian. I sipped my coffee, my broken fingers tingling with the memory of Ian and Hoshi holding me down snap after snap.
The plan was a quick snatch and grab, but watching this guy labor down the stairs, I thought it might be more of a hook and tow. I downed the last sip of overcooked coffee and fell in step behind him as he passed. I followed him onto the dock. I had my piece out, letting it hang in my left hand as I walked. I kept cool, letting him make his way down the creaking dock. I looked at Maggie. She was already pulling the tether from the cleat.
I surveyed the dock. There was a group at the dock's end, pooling their money for a shared ride on a double-long skiff. I looked over my shoulder. There were three more zookeepers coming down the stairs, none of them close enough to create any trouble. I closed the gap, pulling right in behind him. I drove my piece into his back flab. “Get in that boat,” I said.
He stopped short. “What?”
“Now!” I said, as I drove my piece in deep.
He stammered out some curses but complied. Maggie started the motor while he stepped over to the dock's edge.
I scanned in every direction. Nobody close yet. “Move it,” I told him. He picked one foot up and held it tentatively in the air as he tried to decide the best way to step down into the boat. I gave him a shove and sent him tumbling down. He smashed into the seats, his impact sending the shallow-bottomed craft into such a wobble that it took on water over the sides.
Maggie lost her balance and fell down. “Dammit, Juno!”
“Go!” I told her as I hopped down.
She gunned the motor. It took a second for the prop to bite before we started edging free of the dock. I stood on the side rail, steadying my balance by hooking my bad hand over one of the bars that held up the tin roof. The zookeeper was on the floor, struggling to get up, trying to get his knees under his mass. I tucked my piece back in my waistband. I grabbed hold of one of the roof supports with my good hand and swung over the zookeeper, monkey-style. I stomped down with both feet, driving him back down to the boat's bottom, stuffing his mass between the seats. He tried to extricate himself, but he was wedged in good and tight. He squirmed and wriggled, but one arm was pinned under his body, and the other wasn't strong enough to pull himself free. He was throwing an immobilized fit, yelling so loud that he was almost overpowering the sound of the outboard.
I looked back at the dock to see if there was anybody making chase, but we'd gotten away clean. Maggie aimed us for deeper water. I stayed silent, letting him sweat it out, and by the looks of it, he was sweating plenty. We rode out into the gray water, the dimness of sunset draining the color out of everything. Maggie navigated us away from the shore, away from all the other riverboats, finding a nice, private expanse of river for us to carry out our interrogation. Maggie gave the motor one last throttle and shut it off. All was silence except for the rain rattling on the tin roof.
I watched him in the light of the single bulb that hung naked from the roof, waiting for him to quit his struggles. His body jerked a couple more times, but he couldn't pry loose. He was stuck between the seats like a giant lump of bread dough that had been left to rise far too long.
When he finally quit, I said, “Remember me?”
“I know who you are,” he responded more calmly than I'd expected.
“How about Detective Orzo? You know her?”
“Heard of her.”
“From who?”
“Screw you. I'm not talking to you.”
“You'll talk. You have no choice.”
“The hell I don't,” he said as defiantly as a man in his position could.
I was still standing on the side, and I leaned back, pulling the roof with me, tipping the skiff to one side. I stood straight up, letting the boat return to normal, then leaned back again, this time tipping back a little further. “You know what the problem is with these skiffs?” I said as I kept rocking the boat from side to side. “They're so shallow. Catch a little wave and you take on water.” I leaned back again, pulling hard enough that the boat's rail dipped below the waterline. Cool water ran in and soaked the zookeeper's clothes.
He was scared. I could see it on his face, in his eyes. But he was keeping a lid on it, probably telling himself I wouldn't really do it. I rocked back again, this time taking on twice as much water as before. Water sloshed over his face and pooled around his shoulders.
I kept the boat rocking like we were in heavy surf. “Ready to talk yet?”
“No,” he said.
Another dip.
And another.
And another.
The boat was already hanging heavy in the water. All I had to do now was tilt my body, and I could run water over the edge in a steady stream. “You know how to swim, right, Maggie?”