The director of the research center, a slim, white-haired man in his early fifties with the unusual name of Janz Olan, led Tessa and me to the research rooms that lay behind the glassed-in habitats.
As I’d suspected, the habitat in which Twana’s body had been found was still closed off to the primates, and for Tessa’s sake, I was glad to see that the floor, although no longer covered with straw, had been mopped and sanitized and there was no visible sign of blood. Still, Tessa’s eyes wandered around the area as we passed by, and I had no doubt that she was able to discern why the floor had been so thoroughly cleaned.
“So,” Mr. Olan said, glancing at Tessa, “how long have you been Agent Bowers’s… assistant?”
“Ever since he began researching the politics, culture, and moral development of pongids.”
I assumed that meant apes.
“Oh,” he said. “I see.”
“Mr. Olan.” I gestured toward one of the testing rooms. “Explain to me more about your work here. What exactly are you doing with the CAT scans, MRIs, MEGs?”
“Well, our research focuses on two primary areas-neuroscience and cognition.”
I remembered Lien-hua’s words from Tuesday night. “And aggression?”
“That would fall under neuroscience. Brain-imaging studies have shown that the amygdala and frontal cortex are the areas of the brain most associated with fear, aggression, and violent behavior. Specifically, we look at the neural activity of chimpanzees, the closest relatives to humans. They’re also the only species, besides humans, who regularly kill adult conspecifics.”
“Adults of the same species,” Tessa said, taking notes.
A pause, then, “Yes. Chimps also form raiding parties and have wars against other communities of chimps. Some even use their skills in toolmaking to form clubs that kill more effectively.”
That sounded astonishing to me.
And also chillingly human.
“So, in a sense, you’re studying the neurology of violence,” I said.
A pause. “That might be one way of putting it.”
I let that sink in, wondering what implications the findings might have if taken in the context of the congressman’s comments over the last few weeks about the proposed budget cuts to the Bureau in lieu of “a more progressive approach to curbing criminal behavior.”
Every Republican in Congress would want his connection to the center made public…
“Yeah, well,” Tessa said to Olan, “chimps aren’t so closely related, if you accept that Ardi was a biped.”
He was slow in responding. “Yes. If you accept that she was,” he acknowledged at last. “But it’s clear that in trees she was a quadruped.”
“Who’s Ardi?” I asked.
“Doesn’t matter.” Tessa was answering Olan, not me. “She proves we didn’t evolve from knuckle-walkers like chimpanzees and gorillas.”
“Who is Ardi?” I repeated, directing the question to them both. Olan answered, “She was a female Ardipithecus ramidus. Her fossil was found in Ethiopia in 1994, but it took fifteen years of study before the findings were released to the public in 2009. And some scientists believe she walked upright.”
“Most,” Tessa corrected him, “not some.”
I shook my head. “I’m still not quite-”
“She lived 4.4 million years ago,” Olan said impatiently, “and if she was a biped it would seem to indicate that we did not evolve from modern primates but rather separately from them, from some ancient ancestor.”
“Which means,” Tessa interjected, “there is no missing link between us and modern apes, and postulating human origins from modern primate behavior or biology is casuistic.”
Olan stared at her. Blinked.
“Well,” he said, “since no members of the Ardipithecus ramidus family are still with us today, we study chimps, whose DNA is 96 percent the same as human DNA.”
She looked ready to counter, but I stopped her with a small head shake. I was more concerned about the focus of the center’s research than resolving how someone might have walked four and a half million years ago. “Tell me about the second area,” I said to Olan. “The cognition research.”
“Yes, well, perhaps I should have specified that it’s mainly in the field of metacognition.”
This time I was familiar with what he was referring to, but Tessa beat me to the punch. “Theory of mind,” she said. “Consciousness, empathy, understanding.”
He nodded. “Yes. Self-awareness, the roots of empathy, the ability to understand that others have thoughts, feelings, sensations just as you do.”
We arrived at a fully equipped research room with a metal meshed-off area that led to the gorilla habitat.
“Are you saying apes have those abilities?” I asked.
“Different species of primates exhibit varying degrees of altruistic behavior,” he replied, not exactly answering my question.
I thought of the sections of Tessa’s research that I’d perused. “As well as cognitive empathy, right? And partner-specific reciprocity?”
“Yes.” Olan seemed somewhat taken aback that Tessa and I appeared to know what we were talking about, and as he went on, he seemed bent on proving that he knew more.
“Chimpanzees kiss and hold each other after fighting, sometimes jump into water to save other chimps-even though no chimps are able to swim. In some cases, gorillas have warned keepers when young gorillas are in danger-thus showing that they are both cognizant of the plight of other creatures and able to identify a possible means of rescue for them. And as far as intelligence and problem solving, some gorillas have scored 90 on human IQ tests, others have learned more than 3,500 sign language words, even made up signs to describe themselves.”
I’d never heard about apes trying to save each other or taking human IQ tests, and I was surprised-and for some reason that I couldn’t quite pinpoint, vaguely troubled.
“One ape even made up a sign for contact lens cleaning solution after watching his keeper wash and then put in her contacts.”
“What was it?” Tessa asked.
“The gorilla combined the words eye and drink,” he said.
That was just plain impressive.
I asked a few follow-up questions, and Olan seemed to become more and more antsy with each one. “I’m very sorry,” he said at last. “But I’m terribly busy-still dealing with the aftermath of the incident on Tuesday night as it concerns our board, our donors. We’re a nonprofit organization and donations are essential for our survival. I’m sure you understand. Perhaps it would be best if one of our researchers or keepers answered any additional questions.”
Actually, that might not be a bad idea.
I asked if we could speak with Sandra Reynolds, the keeper who’d found Twana’s body and killed the two chimps who were attacking her, but Olan told me she’d taken the rest of the week off. “For counseling,” he added in a somewhat ominous tone.
He called to a studious-looking woman in her late twenties who was bent over a computer keyboard in an adjoining room. “Dr. Risel, can you spare a few moments?”
She didn’t bother to look up. “I’m in the middle of my bibliography.” From her outfit, it was clear that she liked the color brown in all of its many shades and hues.
“Dr. Bowers here is investigating the tragedy Tuesday night.”
“That’s nice.”
“He works for the FBI.”
At last Dr. Risel looked our way, hesitated for a moment, then joined us.
After introductions, Mr. Olan left for his office and Dr. Risel informed us that she was a psychobiologist and was under a strict deadline for her next journal article, then waited, arms folded, for me to tell her what I needed, but I wasn’t exactly sure what that was.
Tessa bailed me out. “Tell us about the MSR research.”
“Mirror self-recognition,” Dr. Risel said, as if Tessa couldn’t possibly have already known what the initials stood for.
“Um, yeah.”
Dr. Risel looked around the room absently for a moment, then sighed. “It might be just as quick if I showed you.” She pulled out a set of keys and headed for the gorilla habitats.
Astrid had asked Brad to lay low for the day.
Yes, he needed to arrange everything for tonight. But that wouldn’t take him long.
So, keep tabs on him.
She’d asked him to check in with her every hour by phone, which he had faithfully done so far.
Good.
One step at a time, make sure that he was not slipping up again.
She decided that tonight she was going to tell him about her child.
Today they would stay on schedule.
Finish the game.
And then tonight at the body farm, she would tell him about the baby.