Bred to Kill Read Online Free PDF Page B

case, the talking chimpanzee had been witness to a murder.
    He needed more coffee, something in his gut. As he pondered the situation, the chimpanzee went back to her corner, turning her back on them again. The cop aimed his pistol once more.
    â€œI’d like to believe you, Shery, but for the moment I have no choice.”
    He fired. A small dart with a red tip sank into the primate’s back; she tried to pull it out, then tottered to the side and fell over, just a few inches from Eva Louts’s corpse. Jaspar’s lips tightened.
    â€œWe didn’t have any choice. I’m so sorry, my sweet . . .”
    Sharko handed her back the hypodermic gun and asked, “In your opinion, why would a ‘wicked monster’ have hurt Eva Louts?”
    â€œI don’t know. But I discovered something very strange about Eva the day before yesterday. It might be related . . .”
    â€œWhat was it?”
    Jaspar looked one last time at the corpse, then at Shery’s inert form. She gave a long sigh.
    â€œLet’s go get some coffee, you can’t stop yawning. Then I’ll tell you. In the meantime, I . . . I should go notify her parents.”
    Sharko touched her wrist.
    â€œNo, leave it. Their lives are going to be shattered. You don’t announce the death of someone’s child like that, on the phone. Our people will take care of it. This is just one of the sadder aspects of our job.”

3
    T he first day of school is a happy time for most children. After two months apart, everyone is reunited with his or her friends, tells what happened over the holidays, shows off the new Spider-Man backpack or
Dora the Explorer
lunch box. Gleaming sneakers, brand-new pens and erasers . . . The kids greet one another, tease one another, size one another up. The world of childhood explodes in a thousand colors and pieces.
    When Lucie arrived at the schoolyard fence that Monday morning, the pupils were assembling in the courtyard. Shrieks, shouts, a few tears. In several minutes, roll would be called; girls and boys would find themselves mixed together in their new classes for another year of apprenticeship. Some parents accompanied their offspring, especially the youngest ones just out of kindergarten.
    The Sainte-Hélène private school was not the one where Lucie used to bring Juliette before the tragedy. She had learned from a child psychiatrist that there were no set rules on how to survive the loss of a sister, and it was even more complicated in the case of twins. Because of this, Lucie had preferred to make a clean break with the old school. The little girl would have new friends, new teachers, new habits. And for Lucie, too, severing the umbilical cord with the past was for the best. She didn’t want to be the one they looked at strangely, the one they didn’t dare approach without dragging out the hackneyed sentiment, “I’m so sorry for what happened.” Here, no one knew her, no one looked at her . . . She was just another mother among many.
    Pressed against the fence, Lucie watched the children in the courtyard and spotted Juliette in the colorful jumble. The little girl was smiling, stamping her feet impatiently. She showed a real eagerness to return to school. She remained alone for a few seconds in the midst of the indifferent crowd, then joined the line, pulling her spanking new wheeled backpack. No one paid any special attention to her; the other children already knew each other, were talking and laughing. The teacher raised her eyes toward the fence and the parents, her expression suggesting that everything was under control, and went back to her job. The earth did not stop turning; everywhere life went on, come what may.
    At the end of the roll call, as most of the parents headed off, Lucie rushed into the courtyard and toward the classrooms. She called after the teacher once all the children had disappeared into the