hissed. “Did he remember you?”
“I think he was starting to,” Griffin whispered back. “I threw him off the scent with a fistful of dollars. Come on, let’s find Cleopatra.”
They navigated quickly through the depressing display of ill-kept and underweight animals, gagging as the stench grew stronger toward the center of the ship. To make matters even more unpleasant, a group of smirking teenagers had gathered around the great horned owl, rattling the cage every time the nocturnal bird tried to close its eyes. The earsplitting hoot-shriek echoed all through the paddleboat.
“Savannah wouldn’t like that,” Ben observed.
“Savannah doesn’t like anything aboutthis place,” Griffin replied. “Look, there’s Cleopatra.”
The monkey was in the same separate compartment. The only new addition was a hand-lettered sign that declared:
PRESENTING: THE LADY ELEANOR
They hung back as a mom and two little kids, one a toddler in her arms, made monkey sounds and fawned over Mr. Nastase’s latest exhibit. At last, the family moved on, allowing Griffin and Ben to get close to Cleopatra.
In the few days since the class trip, the capuchin had undergone an alarming transformation. There was only one word to describe the poor creature — depressed. The climber and swinger who had made best friends with the toughest Doberman in Cedarville had become a silent, drooping figure. She squatted in the cage, seemingly unconnected to the world around her, eaten up by her own sadness.
Griffin sidled up to the enclosure and slipped a couple of pieces of sliced plantain between the bars. “These are from Savannah,” he whispered. “Eat them fast, before somebodynotices.” He felt like an idiot, talking to the monkey as if she were a human being. But he had promised Savannah to deliver her message. “Don’t lose hope. Your friends haven’t forgotten you. And — oh, yeah — Luthor says hey.”
It might have been just their imagination, but Cleopatra seemed to perk up a little bit. She definitely enjoyed the plantains.
“What do you think about the cage?” Ben ventured.
“Wire cutters. Definitely. The bars aren’t too thick. The big question is how to get in here if the boat’s locked down.” He cast a quick glance around the compartment, his eyes coming to rest on a ventilation grate in the ceiling.
Ben followed his gaze in alarm. “You mean
me
? You want me to climb in through that thing?”
Griffin nodded. “And then let the rest of us in the front door.”
“Aw, Griffin, couldn’t we just wait till nobody’s watching, cut Cleopatra loose, and make a run for it?”
Griffin was horrified. “In the middle of all these people, with Klaus around and Mr. Nasty watching the door? That’s the worstplan I’ve ever heard in my life! Even if we do get off the boat, they can stop us at the main gate of the preserve. Somebody’s bound to notice the missing monkey by then!”
“It was just a thought,” Ben mumbled, chastened. “You’re the one who said a plan is never finished until you’ve considered all the possibilities.”
“A nighttime assault is our only option,” Griffin stated with certainty. “The big question is, can you fit into that vent?”
“An amoeba couldn’t fit into that vent,” Ben replied bitterly.
“Only one way to find out, I guess,” said Griffin, as if Ben had never spoken. “We just have to find the outside opening for those ducts. Come on. We’ve had our twenty-four bucks worth.”
They retraced their steps to the entrance, arriving just in time to receive a discreet nod from Melissa. The webcams were in place.
Mr. Nastase barely looked up from the cash box as Griffin and Ben left the exhibit. The zookeeper took no notice when, instead of exiting via the gangway, they made a quick left turn and hurried along the paddleboat’s narrow outer deck.
Ben bit his lip. “I don’t know about this. All the people in line saw us run off where we’re not supposed to