“I’m not accusing anyone,” I said—though I was definitely keeping him high on the people who might deserve the accusation. “But someone killed him, and can you be absolutely sure your campaign against the zoo had nothing to do with it?”
“That's ridiculous!” he exclaimed. “You can expect to hear from my attorney; that's absolute libel!”
“Slander, not libel,” I said. “It's not libel unless I write it down. But I’m sure your attorney can explain that to you.”
The leader stormed off, still sputtering. One of his followers tried to placate him with a sandwich, which he rudely refused.
Mother would have assumed his guilt immediately. Of course, Mother would probably find it easier to forgive a well-bred murderer than a rude saint. Still, I had the feeling that if Chief Burke wasn’t already investigating the leader of the SOBs, he should do so immediately.
“Who is that guy?” I asked the film student.
Chapter 21
“Shea? He's the president of Save Our Beasts,” the student said. “You think he’ll try to sue you?”
“He might,” I said. “Then again, he might just be a law student, going through that difficult litigious phase. I remember it hit my brother around the middle of his first semester.”
“Sounds like Shea,” the student said. “Got an amazing talent for ticking off the people who already agree with him, so it's no wonder he's having trouble winning converts. SOB used to be a much bigger group before he took over.”
“Are they just opposed to zoos in principle or was Patrick Lanahan doing something particularly bad?”
The student shifted uneasily.
“There have been rumors that he wasn’t feeding the animals properly,” he said. “And skimping on their medical care. Given how broke he was, sounds plausible. I can’t prove it, though, and he's certainly run up pretty huge bills with the vet and the feed store. And I certainly can’t prove the rumor about canned hunts.”
“Canned what?”
“Canned hunts—you haven’t heard of them?”
I remembered Blake saying something about them when he was talking to the reporters, but I didn’t remember what he’d said, so I shook my head.
“It's barbarous,” he said, his voice becoming heated. “You take a bunch of animals and pen them up someplace—they usually call them game ranches or hunting preserves—and charge people a stiff fee to come in and shoot where they can hardly help killing something. Some of them guarantee a kill.”
“What kind of animals?” I asked.
“Depends on the operation,” he said. “Sometimes it's native species—deer, elk, even bear. Virginia outlawed it years ago, except for a couple of places that were already in operation, and they’re only allowed to use various kinds of pigs, goats, and sheep. But in some states, they bring in exotic animals to shoot at. Some of them bought from overpopulated zoos.”
“So is that why the SOBs are picketing—they think Patrick was selling off unwanted animals to be killed?”
The student nodded.
“Shea even accused Lanahan of running the hunts on his land—which would be totally illegal in Virginia, of course, and I’m not sure anyone takes that seriously. But even selling the animals to a game ranch—that wouldn’t be illegal, but it would still be pretty awful. I mean, these are animals that are used to being around humans—they don’t have the same fear of humans real wild animals have, so they’re a lot more vulnerable, and when you pen them in and let the hunters set up right where the animals have to come to eat or drink—”
“I get the picture. If Lanahan was doing that—well, I can’t imagine my father getting involved with him.”
“Unless he was trying to investigate him,” the student said. “That's what I was thinking of doing—work my way into his confidence to get the real scoop.”
“Yeah, that sounds like something Dad would do,” I said with a sigh. But was it something he’d do without trying to enlist me? I’d worry about that later.
“So where are the animals, anyway?” he asked. “I was hoping to film them while I was out here, but they all seem to be gone.”
“Out at our house,” I said. “At least some of them are, and every time I turn around, someone dumps another batch off with us. If we can’t figure out something else to do with them, in a day or so we should have the whole zoo reunited.”
“Cool,” the student said. “Hey, I could go there and film them. I mean, if you and Professor Waterston don’t mind....”