The Boreal Owl Murder (15 page)

Knowing now about Alice’s tipping off Stan about the Boreal sites, I could begin to see where Rahr’s angry comments to me on the phone might have come from. He’d said that someone was sabotaging him. Someone who was supposed to be on his side. After the MOU meeting, I had assumed Rahr was referring to Ellis, but now I had to wonder if, instead, he had caught Alice passing information along to Stan. I guess that could qualify as “manipulative, intrusive and unreliable.” Although I questioned if it was enough to warrant terminating an eight-year working relationship. No wonder Knott had been so interested in what Rahr had said to me on the phone—and angry that I hadn’t told him sooner.

But, as it turned out, that bit of anger was a drop in the bucket compared to how he felt after I told him about the letter on my bird feeder.

And the phone call.

And the dead owl.

And my conversation with Stan.

I thought he was going to have a stroke.

Or lock me up.

Or both.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he exploded.

All the heads in Grandma’s turned in our direction.

“Please,” I smiled at all the restaurant patrons, “excuse my friend. He’s having a bad day.”

“I sure as hell am
now
,” Knott spit out, though at a lower decibel than his previous remark. “And when were you going to let me in on these little tidbits of trivia, Bob? At your funeral?”

Okay. When he put it like that, I had to admit everything did look a lot grimmer than I had wanted to believe. If we were talking about my funeral, then getting suspended from work really wasn’t such a big deal after all.

“I’m telling you now,” I pointed out to him. “See, this is why I wasn’t thinking it was so urgent. I’m okay. I’m in one piece. I’m breathing.”

“Only because I’m not choking you to death.”

I took a long drink of water to give myself a minute to think. “I didn’t see how this could help you with your case,” I finally said. “I thought it was Stan jerking my chain, and then, by the time I realized it wasn’t him, it was late last night, and I was going to be seeing you today anyway.”

Knott dragged both of his hands through his already unkempt hair. I hoped he found it a soothing gesture because it didn’t do squat for his personal appearance. After a moment or two, he propped his elbows on the table and buried his right fist in his left hand. His eyes locked on mine.

“This is what we are going to do. First of all, we are going to have every person in the department who knew your name on Sunday make a list of every person they talked to in order to try to track down who sent you the note. The fact that it happened so fast after recovering Rahr’s body has to mean there’s an important connection between the two, and we need to find it. At this point, I’m leaning towards it being an S.O.B. member, so I’ll have Ms. Montgomery take another run through the membership roles and see if she can remember anything unusual about anyone.”

That made sense. I nodded in agreement.

“The second thing we’re going to do is get Alice in for a thorough questioning. Ms. Multiple has things she’s not telling us, I’d bet money on it. As for Ellis, I’ll decide what to do with him after our little chat this afternoon. As for Stan, I’m guessing from what you said that he’s some kind of federal agent on a case, and that’s why we’re getting nowhere trying to track him down. Assuming, of course, that he was telling you the truth, and wasn’t just laying more smoke screen.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m wondering about that, too. Especially since Alice is his sister. I wouldn’t exactly call that a great character reference. For all I know, he could be her evil twin.”

Knott shrugged.

Good. More anxiety. Just what I was hoping for.

“And the last thing we’re going to do,” Knott said, “is keep you out of the woods.”

No!

“No! John, I’ve only got a tiny window to get this owl. You can’t be serious. Look!” I spread out my arms to include everyone in the diner. “No one’s stalking me today. No one even knows I’m in Duluth except for you and Stan.”

Knott rolled his eyes.

All right, maybe the fact that Stan knew I was here wasn’t the most comforting thought, especially since I’d just conceded I didn’t know how far I could trust him.

And then I had a brilliant idea.

“John, what if I had Stan go birding with me? Then I wouldn’t be alone, and even if he wanted to, he’d be crazy to kill me because I’ll tell him that you know he’s with me.”

I stopped to mentally review what I had just said: “he’d be crazy to kill me.” Well, that would be one way to put that rumor to rest, wouldn’t it? For once and for all, everyone in the MOU would finally know if Scary Stan really was looney tunes. Of course, if he was, then I’d also be very dead. I barreled on.

“And that’s making the worst case assumption that he wants to kill me, which I really don’t think is the case. Yeah, he wants the owl, but he told me that I’m not the ‘contract’ he’s working on. Let’s face it—he’s had plenty of opportunities already if that was his intention. Besides, my gut is telling me to trust him on this one. Come on, John. He’s a birder. We speak the same language. Sort of. Give me a break here.”

Knott studied my face and sighed. “All right, Bob. Bird with Stan. But keep in touch. And I better not hear any crying from you if you end up dead.” He tossed his napkin on his plate. “It’s the location, Bob. I’m sure of it. Whoever is behind your threats wants you to stay out of the forest. That’s clear. So there must be something up there that they don’t want you—us—to find.”

“Boreals, John. There are Boreals there.”

He shook his head. “And I’m saying that still doesn’t work for me, Bob. Why would someone who wanted to protect the owls kill Rahr, the one person who’s been their biggest champion? And why are you the only birder being warned to stay away from those same owls?”

I hadn’t thought of that. If other birders were getting threats, it would have been all over the MOU email. As it was, no one had made a peep about anonymous warnings.

“I’ll tell you why,” Knott offered. “Because you’ve got the reputation of being one of the best birders in the state. Persistent. Rahr’s killer knows you’ll be back, and that’s a problem for him, because he doesn’t want anyone in the area. I’m convinced that if we can figure out why that is, then we’ll be able to figure out who the killer is.” He placed some bills on the table with the check and stood up. “It’s the location, Bob. I’d bet money on it.”

We pulled on our coats and headed for the door. His reasoning made sense, but I had the feeling that we were still missing something. Exactly what, I didn’t know.

Besides the name, address and motive of Rahr’s killer, I mean.

“One last thing,” Knott said. “I know this is a long shot, but do you happen to know if Rahr used eyeglasses?”

“I have no idea,” I answered. “Why?”

“We found some under his body. At first, we assumed they were his, but his wife told me he rarely used glasses at home, and she didn’t recognize this particular pair. Just grasping at straws, Bob, but right now, it’s the only tangible thing I’ve got.”

He held the diner door open for me. A brisk wind was coming off the lake.

“By the way,” he said, “I’m curious. After talking to Ellis, have you decided what you’re going to tell the MOU board members?”

I pulled my collar against my neck. “I’m going to say that I’ve made up my mind.” I paused for extra drama. “I’ve decided to go with the cheese curds.”

Knott laughed. “Smart ass.”

Not nearly smart enough, I thought. Knott was way ahead of me—he already knew that Ellis and Alice both had no alibis, but possible motive. He was as good at what he did as I was at birding, and I was one of the best in the state, if I do say so. Being around Knott on the trail of a killer almost reminded me of myself chasing down elusive birds—there’s this intense focus that, at the same time, sucks in data from all kinds of physical and sensory sources. Some of my birding friends even joke with me that once I set my sights on chasing down a bird, the bird doesn’t have a chance. As I watched Knott walk away from the diner, I had the feeling that the same could be said of him.

Then again, I had yet to score a Boreal. I silently wished Knott better luck with his hunt than I’d had so far with mine.

Since it was only early afternoon and I had hours before I could try to owl—assuming I could track down Stan—I drove over to the airport, where someone had spotted a Snowy Owl earlier in the week. Although I’d already seen one this winter, I have a soft spot for the big guys—the Snowy was my original nemesis bird, and it took me nine years to get my first one.

I was in high school when I started that particular chase. Every winter, as soon as I got home from school, I checked the list serve to see if anyone was seeing a Snowy Owl close enough to the cities for me to get out and see it before it got dark. Of course, in the winter, in Minnesota, it’s dark by four in the afternoon, so that left me a window of barely an hour to get out and look. I think I must have chased after one about six times each winter and never got it.

Then, one winter—I was out of college and doing a stint with the DNR—it was like people were seeing Snowy Owls everywhere. I went after one that had been seen about forty minutes from where I lived, but two blocks down the road from my place, I was at a stoplight, and lo and behold, a Snowy Owl flies in and perches on the power lines right next to the road. I couldn’t believe it. Nine years of driving all over the state, and I finally find the owl within walking distance of my apartment.

When I’d told Luce that story, she had laughed and noted that the Snowy Owl was a generous bird. I replied that after nine years, it could afford to be.

Since then, I’ve seen a Snowy almost every winter. It was like once I got it, the game was over. But I still liked to see them, big and white, gliding noiselessly, gracefully, over open fields looking for rodents. That’s why the airport in Duluth was a good place to find them. Unlike the Boreals who hide out in thick forests, Snowy Owls take up residence near open spaces; the flat grassy areas around airport runways provide a veritable buffet of small prey for the owls.

I drove the road that bordered the airport’s property and looked for the bird. Sure enough, I spotted the owl on the top of a large ridge of snow piled beyond a runway. His big white body almost blended in with the snow on which he was perched, though the snow was looking dingy, probably a result of jet exhaust. After a minute or two, he swept down to nab his afternoon entrée, a rodent who had brashly broken cover to cross the field, unaware of the owl’s hungry surveillance.

For some reason, I thought of Knott and his meeting with Ellis, but while I could easily picture Knott swooping down on Ellis, I just couldn’t imagine Ellis as either a helpless rodent or unaware. If Ellis was Rahr’s murderer, I was afraid that Knott would be in for a long, tough chase and an elusive solution to a murder case.

Which could only mean bad news for me and an unlikely return to work by Monday … if at all.

Suddenly, I felt like the Snowy’s snack, exposed and helpless in the face of what was happening around me. I didn’t like Knott telling me I couldn’t bird alone. I didn’t like my job hanging in the balance. I especially didn’t like getting threats and finding dead birds on my deck. In fact, I wasn’t going to take it. Not any more. I turned the car around and headed back to the university.

My gut agreed with Knott’s—an important key to Rahr’s murder was in the location. So that’s where I was going. But this time, I was keeping the detective firmly in the loop. No more secrets. I was going to take him along with me.

When Knott walked out of the BSB shortly after two o’clock, I was waiting for him at the curb. I hopped out of the car, told him I was going up to the scene of the crime and wanted him to tag along. He cocked his head, apparently considering my offer, then said to give him five minutes. I watched him jog to his car, slide into the driver’s seat and make a couple of phone calls. Then he jogged back and climbed into my passenger’s seat.

“So what’s the plan, Sherlock?” he asked.

I groaned silently when I saw that he was grinning. “Let me guess. Alice complained to you that I was there this morning, asking a lot of questions and upsetting her.”

“Actually, she said you were upsetting Dr. Ellis. And she asked me to keep curiosity-seekers and nut cases away from the Environmental Sciences Department. If you hadn’t already told me at lunch about your visit here, I might have been concerned that you were doing a little investigating of your own on the side. But seeing as I was forewarned, I handled Alice very diplomatically.” He made an obvious display of checking my speedometer reading. “I thanked her for her sharp attention and told her I’d run a thorough background check on you, and that you wouldn’t be bothering her or Dr. Ellis again. That made her happy.”

“Is my speed a problem for you?”

“Not for me. I’m not the one with the reputation for attracting traffic citations.”

Great. Why was I not surprised that he knew?

“When I told the dispatcher I was going into the woods with you, she laughed and said I should make sure my seat belt was fastened. You’re a famous man, Bob. Not only are you a hot shot birder in the state, but you’ve got the whole Minnesota highway patrol looking out for you.”

Unfortunately.

“So, I repeat, what’s the plan?”

I told him how his insistence at lunch about the importance of location had stuck with me and that I was tired of waiting for some breaks in the case when my job was riding on the line.

“I’d thought I’d convince you to call Mr. Lenzen and threaten him to reinstate me,” I said, “but then I realized it wouldn’t do any good. He may be a stubborn ass … assistant principal, but I can’t fault him for doing his job as he sees fit.”

Whether or not I agreed with it.

“Besides, no matter how I resist it, it seems like I’m attached to this murder,” I told Knott, “or it’s attached to me. Either way, I want the whole thing to go away, so I can go back to work and not worry about anonymous phone calls or someone delivering dead birds to my doorstep. But the only way that’s going to happen is for you to solve the case, and I figure—I’m hoping—that our two brains together can do it faster than just yours alone.”