“The Spix’s female disappeared, and the odd couple returned to its previous domestic arrangement.” Rachel glanced at Ryan to see if he’d appreciated her witticism.
“Was hubby the sloppy one or neat one?” he asked.
Rachel made an odd, giggling sound through her nose.Sni. Sni. Sni.
“What happened to the Spix’s female?” I asked.
“She had a run-in with power lines.”
“Ouch.” Ryan winced.
“Next, researchers tried al kinds of manipulations with the Il iger’s eggs, final y swapping live Il iger hatchlings for the dead hybrid embryos the female was incubating.”
“What happened?”
“The Brady Bunch.”Sni. Sni. Sni.
“The pair turned out to be good parents,” I guessed.
Rachel nodded.
“And here’s the surprising part. Although the chicks were completely Il iger’s genetical y, the young developed voices identical to Dad’s.”
“That’s amazing,” I said.
“Researchers were planning to slip captive-bred Spix’s hatchlings into the nest when the big guy disappeared.”
“The lovebirds were stil a couple?” Ryan.
“We’re talking about macaws. Lovebirds areAgapornis.” A little Rachel bird humor.
“So there are stil some Spix’s alive in captivity?” I asked.
Rachel sniffed to show her disdain.
“Approximately sixty exist in private col ections.”
“Where?”
“On a commercial bird farm in the Philippines, on the estate of a Qatari sheikh, and in a private aviary in northern Switzerland. I think there’s one at the São Paulo zoo, and several at a parrot park in the Canary Islands.”
“The owners are qualified ornithologists?”
“There’s not a biology degree among them.”
“Is that legal?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The birds are considered private property, so the owners can do what they like with them. But the Spix’s macaw has been an Appendix One species under CITES since 1975.”
Random particles of an idea began to form in my head.
“CITES?”
“The Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species. Appendix One species are considered endangered, and commercial trade in wild specimens is permitted only in exceptional circumstances.”
The particles started to coalesce.
“Is there a market for live Spix’s?”
“The Spix’s was already rare in the eighteenth century because it was so highly valued by col ectors.” She virtual y spat the last word. “Today, a live Spix’s could bring a hundred thousand dol ars or more from a wel -heeled buyer.”
Like matter, an idea exploded into being.
I couldn’t wait to phone Slidel .
There was no need. My cel rang as I was turning from campus onto University Boulevard. It was Slidel .
“Talked with the Lancaster County sheriff.”
“What did he have?”
“Mostly holes.”
“Meaning?”
Ryan reached out and reduced the volume of his Hawksley Workman and the Wolves CD to background.
“No one knows nothing much.”
That was not what I wanted to hear.
“The bones did go down to your buddy Cagle.”
“You contacted him?”
“Ever try getting an academic on the horn in August?”
“Did you try his home?”