Die Again

Thirty-one

SHE PROMISES I’LL BE SAFE. SHE SAYS I’LL NEVER HAVE TO FACE HIM DIRECTLY because it will all be done with video, and multiple police officers will be on the premises. I sit with Detective Frost in the zoo parking lot, and from his car I watch families and children funneling through the entrance. They look happy and excited about a day at the zoo. It’s Saturday, at last the sun is shining, and everything looks different—clean and bright and crisp. I feel the difference in myself as well. Yes, I’m nervous, and more than a little scared, but for the first time in six years I think the sun is about to rise in my own life, and soon all the shadows will be washed away.

Detective Frost answers his ringing cell phone. “Yeah, we’re still in the parking lot. I’ll bring her in now.” He looks at me. “Rizzoli’s interviewing Dr. Oberlin in the animal care facility. That’s at the south end of the zoo, and we won’t go anywhere near there. You don’t have a thing to worry about.” He opens the door. “Let’s go, Millie.”

He’s right beside me as we head toward the entrance. None of the ticket takers is aware there’s a police operation under way, and we walk in the same way every other visitor does, by handing over tickets and pushing through the turnstile. The first exhibit I see is the flamingo lagoon, and I think of my daughter, Violet, who has witnessed the spectacle of thousands of flamingos in the wild. I feel sorry for these city children, for whom flamingos will always be represented by a dozen listless birds in a concrete pond. I get no chance to glimpse any other animals, because Detective Frost leads me straight down the walkway to the administrative building.

We wait in a conference room, which is furnished with a long teak table, a dozen comfortable chairs, and a media cart stocked with video equipment. On the walls are framed honors and awards for the Suffolk Zoo and its staff. EXCELLENCE IN DIVERSITY. EXCELLENCE IN MARKETING. R. MARLIN PERKINS AWARD. BEST EXHIBIT, NORTHEAST. This is their bragging room, to show visitors how distinguished an institution it is.

On the opposite wall, I see the curricula vitae of various staff members, and my eyes go straight to Dr. Oberlin’s. Forty-four years old. Bachelor of science degree, University of Vermont. Doctor of veterinary medicine, Cornell University. There is no photograph.

“This may take a while, so we have to be patient,” says Detective Frost.

“I’ve waited six years,” I tell him. “I can wait a little longer.”