Night of the Animals

“No, mammy, I will not,” he said. “There’s bloody dangerous animals loose. No can do, officer.” He gave them a scandalous, bony-cheeked grin. “Why should I come down now with tigers still birdy-fly-fly free?” He pointed again at Atwell, wagging his finger. “I wasn’t enough of a victim before, was I? I was all ballsed up and you did nothing, and that’s wot’s really got me up a tree.”


Atwell shook her head. She looked at Astrid with a momentary confusion, her big eyes like almonds suddenly cracked open. She said to Astrid, “I didn’t know who he was, ma’am. He was screaming—I was alone. You know that, yeah? You know I needed assistance. That’s the reg.”

Atwell turned back to Dawkins and said with an affected confidence (which Astrid found a little off-putting), “You can’t have everything you want, just the way you want it, on your schedule, Mr. Dawkins. That is life, my friend.” She whispered to Astrid, “Look at him, up a tree like Zacchaeus. He’s strange. Remember: he said his mother was in the zoo.”

Astrid whispered back, “I say we just make as though we’re going to leave him. He’s an . . . obscure gent, isn’t he?”

Then Astrid said to Dawkins, “Mr. Dawkins, what’s this about your mother, in the zoo?”

Dawkins startled, raised his arms as though defending himself against something, then looked into his lap. He said, “She’s not exactly me mother. She’s my sister. She’s visiting. Except . . .”

“Wha?” said Atwell.

Astrid said: “I need the facts here, Dawkins. I’m warning you. I won’t be bothered with nonsense at this point. You don’t want to be arrested for obstructing the course of justice, do you? Let’s get this straight: your sister is at your flat, in the Reptile House?”

Dawkins glared at her, nodding his narrow head in anguished fury.

“She’s my best friend. Her name’s Una. She’s really not supposed to be there, in the apartment. I hain’t allowed to have visitors. She’s Indigent, of course, but she don’t have the special status wot I’ve got. But I thought, if I just tell people she’s my mother, right, they won’t press. It’s not what you think. It’s not abnormal,” he said, pronouncing each syllable. “See, she’s a bit thick, all right? I take care of her, sort of like. We have our own pet snake, too. She’s all white—perfectly. Una doesn’t go anywhere without our snake. People don’t understand it, you see? She has brain damage. When she was nineteen, she was run over. A glider-lorry full of Bronze Age artifacts, from one of the unis—a student driving it. In Dagenham.”

Atwell and Astrid looked at each other, and Atwell said, “Dagenham—just past Barking, of course.”

“Ha-ha,” said Dawkins. “If the Watch comes, they’ll put her in a Calm House, and I’ll never see her again. You can’t tell them.”

Astrid said, “Mr. Dawkins, I’m very sorry, sir. I think we’ll just need to make sure Una is safe is all. I’m not worried about anything else. I won’t tell the Watch. But will you please come down?”

Dawkins said, “Can you get me a soft drink?”

“Uh, well,” said Astrid. “I suppose we—could? Can’t you just climb down? You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I’ll need a Diet Vanilla Coca-Cola?” he said, a bit shyly. “Then I’ll come down.”

Atwell turned to Astrid, her lips parted, with a perplexed expression. “Where do we get that, sir? That’s from fifty years ago.” Astrid shook her head, and quietly said, “We don’t.”

She said to Dawkins, “Listen, we’ll see if we can get someone to get you a . . . Coke . . . back at the nick, but you really need to come down.”

“Diet. Vanilla. Coke. There’s a special edition.”

“Yes, well,” said Astrid. “You’re going to feel the fool if you stay there, aren’t you? What would Una think? Aren’t you worried about her? And Mr. Beauchamp is on the way. Do you know Mr. Beauchamp? David Beauchamp? Is he your . . . gaffer, or something?”

“Beauchamp? Oh, f-allin’ bugger us all,” said Dawkins, looking crestfallen. “He’ll give me the sack if he hears about Una.” He shook his head. “Poor girl! She’s not well—physically. She’s got the stomach flu’s goin’ round. And I’m . . . not well. We need each other very badly, Inspector. I told her to stay in the Reptile House when I saw the lights start to go on around the zoo. She’s a bit done up tonight. I blagged a kind of fancy explorer’s outfit, right, with lots of pockets and all, yeah? But when I saw the jackals, I panicked, and I nipped off, and I don’t know where Una is now. Oh blood and sand! I’m an ’orrible thing!”

Astrid sighed. She said, “You’re making this out to be more than it is. Really, Mr. Dawkins. Come down. Beauchamp doesn’t need to know anything.”

“You all can take the mick out of me if you like, and so can Mr. Beauchamp, but I’ll report it to the King’s Employment Tribunal, I will. I’m not going to be forced to endanger myself. And there’s a crazy man in the zoo, too—I saw him. Mad as a box of frogs. Talking to himself.”

“You saw someone else?” This new fact blindsided Astrid. She looked toward the zoo for a moment. “A man? Another man?”

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