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from?”
    â€œThe desk where Eva worked.”
    â€œYour thoughts on what might have led her to open the cage and go inside holding a paperweight?”
    â€œShery’s our center’s mascot. Unlike the other animals, she uses her cage only for sleeping and walks around freely the rest of the time. Now and then she spirits away an object, especially if it’s shiny. Eva must have been bringing her back inside her cage once she’d finished her observations. As she was often gone during the day, she came in to work fairly late and was the last to leave. We trusted her.”
    The primatologist gazed at the distressed chimpanzee.
    â€œShery is completely harmless. She’s known to every primatologist in France for her gentleness, intelligence, and especially her ability to express herself.”
    â€œExpress herself?”
    â€œShe speaks ASL, the American sign language system. She learned it decades ago, at the Chimpanzee and Human Communication Institute in Ellensburg, Washington. For years I’ve been in awe of the progress she’s made in sharing her emotions. I’m telling you, she couldn’t have . . .”
    Jaspar suddenly fell silent, crushed by the overwhelming evidence: the chimpanzee covered in blood, a victim at her feet, struck repeatedly with a paperweight and bitten in the face. What could possibly have happened? How could Shery have committed such an abomination? Clémentine tried to communicate with the animal, but despite her urgings, her appeals through the bars, Shery would not respond.
    â€œShe refuses to say anything. I think she’s really been traumatized.”
    Sharko and Levallois exchanged a knowing glance. The young lieutenant took his cell phone and went out.
    â€œMa’am, an investigation will be launched and the case referred to a judge. My partner just left to call in a team of technicians who will collect samples, and some colleagues who will take statements.”
    The prospect appeared to set the primatologist’s mind at ease. But it was purely routine. Even a guy hanging from a rope in the middle of a locked room required opening a case file. They had to determine whether it was a suicide, an accident, or a staged crime. Sharko stared at the primate. For a few seconds, he wondered if these animals had fingerprints.
    â€œYou understand they’ll have to enter the cage, and also take samples from your . . . companion, especially from her gums and nails, so they can tell if the blood belongs to the victim, which might prove the attack thesis. They’re going to have to put her to sleep.”
    After not moving for an instant, facing the solid bars, Clémentine Jaspar nodded without great conviction.
    â€œI understand. But promise me you won’t harm her as long as you don’t know the facts. This chimpanzee is much more human than most of the people we see around us. I found her dying in the jungle, wounded by poachers. Her mother had been killed right in front of her. She’s like my own child. She’s my entire life.”
    Sharko knew better than anyone what it meant to have a loved one torn away, whether animal or human. He labored to find the most neutral response possible.
    â€œI can’t promise you, but I’ll do everything in my power.”
    Clémentine Jaspar sighed sadly.
    â€œVery well. I’ll go get the hypodermic gun.”
    She had spoken in a murmur. Sharko moved nearer the cage and squatted, being careful not to touch the bars. There could be no doubt about it: the outline of animal jaws on the victim’s face was clear. The chimp was guilty; the situation was cut and dried. The animal had bashed her with the paperweight, bitten her face, and there would probably never be an explanation for why she did it. The inspector had already heard about sudden outbreaks of violence in these primates, who become capable of massacring their own offspring for no apparent