Part 27 (2/2)

The tears were running down her cheeks, and she was overcome by shame.

”I'm weeping with happiness,” she called to her Lord, but realized that He would hardly let Himself be fooled.

She painted for His sake. He had given her the gift, she was in eternal debt to Him. And the money Jake Golden Retriever earned on the pupils' paintings Esperanza-Santiago donated entirely to charity through the organization A Helping Hand. But however much she exerted herself, she could not free herself from this: the feeling of envy at stuffed animals like Agnes Guinea Pig, who lived without compulsion and without self-insight.

At last she calmed down. The spasms subsided, and her desperate prayers were transformed into quiet crying. Outside, the morning haze still lay heavy over her garden and greenhouse, and she had plenty of time.

A few hours later, Hummingbird Esperanza-Santiago parked a dark red Volga Minibus in the parking lot outside Boathouse 3. It was a rusty vehicle with dents on the front that belonged to the neighboring farmer. Hummingbird Esperanza-Santiago parked a dark red Volga Minibus in the parking lot outside Boathouse 3. It was a rusty vehicle with dents on the front that belonged to the neighboring farmer.

The boathouse was silent and deserted. Hummingbird was early. There were thousands of places in Mollisan Town where she could have held her meetings with Jake Golden Retriever, but she had chosen this one. She liked the smell from the clear, cold Dondau, and the stillness of the river in the morning, when the surface of the water was smooth and mysterious.

Hummingbird went out on one of the piers and sat down on a bench. She knew how chaotic it had been here only a few hours ago. She knew how the dockworkers loaded and unloaded, swore and shouted, ran and carried as the captains worriedly glanced at the horizon to determine how little time they had and how mean they needed to be. And now: silence.

Hummingbird was lost in thought.

A few minutes later the silence was broken when the door to the boathouse opened with an ominous creaking. Hummingbird gave a start and got up. She immediately discovered that the figure walking up the wharf was not Jake Golden Retriever.

At about the same time Igor Panda recognized his artist.

He stopped. He turned pale, and the panic showed in his eyes.

”Hum-Hummingbird,” he stammered to himself.

In patrol car 767-600 sat three police officers, each eating a pineapple flambe. The car was more than twenty years old, the stuffing was poking out of the seats, and a little samba band was stuck to the instrument panel. It couldn't be removed; they had tried for several years. The windows of the police car were fogging over from the hot fruit; empty, trampled plastic water bottles were on the floor, both front and back. The aroma of coconut and cinnamon inside the car was overwhelming, and the kangaroo behind the wheel complained as usual, ”It would have been better if we'd eaten before we got in the car. I knew it would smell like this. I'll just have to throw this uniform in the was.h.!.+” sat three police officers, each eating a pineapple flambe. The car was more than twenty years old, the stuffing was poking out of the seats, and a little samba band was stuck to the instrument panel. It couldn't be removed; they had tried for several years. The windows of the police car were fogging over from the hot fruit; empty, trampled plastic water bottles were on the floor, both front and back. The aroma of coconut and cinnamon inside the car was overwhelming, and the kangaroo behind the wheel complained as usual, ”It would have been better if we'd eaten before we got in the car. I knew it would smell like this. I'll just have to throw this uniform in the was.h.!.+”

”Stop whining,” answered a leopard from the backseat. ”We all have households to run.”

”And there are worse smells,” said the beetle sitting next to the leopard. ”h.e.l.l, when I come home and smell like coconut and pineapple, the cubs are always happy.”

”Listen, we're tired of your cubs,” the leopard snapped. ”We hear about your cubs from the minute we sit in the car until we get out of it. It's starting to feel like they're my cubs.”

”That's easy for you to say,” the kangaroo complained to the leopard. ”You have a was.h.i.+ng machine. If you had to reserve the laundry room, you probably wouldn't think this smell was so-”

”Your cubs?” said the beetle to the leopard. ”Listen, watch yourself, Leopard. Badmouth my cubs again and you'll have to ride in another car.” cubs?” said the beetle to the leopard. ”Listen, watch yourself, Leopard. Badmouth my cubs again and you'll have to ride in another car.”

”Promises are all you give me,” the leopard sighed.

The kangaroo, finis.h.i.+ng first, opened the glove compartment and took out a roll of paper towels to clean up with. It was then he saw the black Volga Deluxe drive past.

”Listen up,” he said, pointing. ”Wasn't that the car they just put a search warrant out for?”

The beetle and the leopard turned around, but the windows were fogged over and they saw nothing.

”Yes, yes, I'm sure,” the kangaroo maintained.

He started the car and made a U-turn to follow the black Volga.

”I'm sure,” he repeated. ”I remember the registration number. It's almost like mine. I have PK 444 JK7. Igor Panda's car had PK 444 something else.”

”We have to call this in,” said the leopard in the backseat.

”This'll be something to tell the cubs,” the beetle chuckled. ”That it was Dad who arrested Igor Panda.”

Igor walked quickly over to the bench and sat down, careful to accommodate the artist. He could not for his life understand what was going on. Where was the forger? Why was Hummingbird here? Had she uncovered everything? to the bench and sat down, careful to accommodate the artist. He could not for his life understand what was going on. Where was the forger? Why was Hummingbird here? Had she uncovered everything?

”Well,” said Hummingbird Esperanza-Santiago as Panda sat down. ”Tell me, now, what are you doing here?”

She had known this moment would come, ever since she and Golden Retriever had started the collaboration. Sooner or later Panda would have to discover them; it had taken an unexpectedly long time.

”I ...” Panda replied, desperately seeking a way to continue the sentence, ”I ... agreed to a meeting here. Now.”

”A meeting,” Hummingbird nodded encouragingly. ”Good. A meeting. With whom?”

”With ...” Panda began, ”with ... a dog.”

”With a dog,” Hummingbird repeated. ”Good, a dog, then. I was supposed to meet a dog, too. Can it be the same dog?”

”A golden retriever?” he asked.

”That's right,” Hummingbird answered. ”Jake.”

Igor Panda tried feverishly to understand what was going on. If Jake Golden Retriever arranged a meeting with Hummingbird, must he have been planning to become Hummingbird's dealer himself?

”Jake, yes, that's right,” said Igor Panda.

Should I cut off her head?

The thought came to him without Igor Panda having been prepared for it. Yesterday he had taken a life only twenty-some yards from where he now sat. With a deceased hummingbird, the value of her paintings would increase dramatically. Which made it even more critical to find out who the forger was.

”But there doesn't seem to be any Jake Golden Retriever here, does there?” said Hummingbird.

There was something that puzzled her. That Panda was here was one thing, but where was Jake? A significant reason that she had chosen him as an intermediary was his reliability. She had gotten to know him when he worked as a janitor at the College of Art, many years ago.

”No,” Panda agreed.

”And you can't have been mistaken?” Hummingbird asked. ”About the day? Or the time?”

”Maybe,” said Panda.

He could not let go of the thought he had just had. He squirmed in his seat. He hardly knew what he had said. From the well of memory the golden retriever's eyes showed up, as they looked when he buried the dog's head yesterday evening. Could he bury the hummingbird's head in the same place? He saw before him the little beak sticking up from the loose soil. The image made him dizzy. He felt nauseous. He turned around. Did he hear the vipers creeping outside the walls of the boathouse? No, it must be his imagination. The weight of the money in his inside pocket made him nervous.

He got up. Where was the forger? He was no longer interested in the neurotic artist; she didn't supply him with anything he could sell. It was the forger he wanted to meet. Had Hummingbird scared him away? Igor Panda put his paw in his pocket. The box cutter from yesterday was still there.

<script>