The Monkey Howled at Midnight by Zack Norris Page B

he got nearer the doorway, he began to walk faster. He was sure he had done it again. He enjoyed outsmarting the airport agents.
    But then a tall, broad-shouldered man with a brown mustache stepped in front of him. He took The Chameleon completely by surprise.
    â€œExcuse me, sir, I need to see your passport,” the officer said.
    Surprised as he was, The Chameleon didn’t show it. He smiled at the officer. “Of course,” he said. He began to reach into his pocket. Then he ran.
    The Chameleon sprinted for the doorway, sending people scattering out of his way. He pushed past people who were wheeling their luggage or using hand trucks. He knocked people down.
    Then The Chameleon spotted a moving platform that sped people along toward the exit. He jumped on it and began elbowing people out of the way.
    â€œEverybody stand aside,” yelled the agent who had first spotted The Chameleon. He had already called for backup. Agents had radioed ahead and others were blocking all the doors.
    Soon six other agents were racing down the moving platform after The Chameleon. But he was fast! And he was determined, too. He had never been caught before, and he didn’t intend for this to be the first time.
    But his luck had run out. As he jumped off the platform, two agents stepped in front of him, blocking his way. Then the one who had spotted him stopped him from turning around. Agents swarmed in from everywhere, and he was surrounded. He was only twenty feet from the doorway.
    The Chameleon didn’t give up easily. He hadn’t gotten to be the biggest, wealthiest animal smuggler in the world by caving in.
    When the agents of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service sat him down in an office and questioned him, he pretended not to know what they were talking about. He claimed to be an honest businessman on a holiday.
    â€œThe warehouses you are telling me about are breeding farms. I am exporting animals bred and raised in captivity. They are not wild animals.”
    â€œNice try,” said Sam Snell, senior agent. “We have an old friend of yours ready to testify that you smuggled wild animals. You hired people to grab them right where they live. Sometimes you even hired poachers to pose as tourists to go to other countries to transport them.”
    A sleazy, self-satisfied smile spread across The Chameleon’s face. “I can guarantee that none of my people would tell you that.”
    Agent Snell’s next words wiped the smile off The Chameleon’s face. “What about your old pal Aldo? He had plenty to say when we caught him red-handed. He sang like a canary when he wanted to help save his own skin.”
    Snell clicked his teeth with his tongue. “It’s too bad you didn’t try exporting canaries. Now there’s a nice legal business. But that probably wouldn’t suit you, would it?” he said as he leaned toward The Chameleon.
    â€œYou know, I’ve been in this line of work a long time. I’m tired of seeing guys like you who think they can get away with whatever they want to. Rules don’t apply to them. Aldo was like that, too. Then they find out that they can get caught just like anybody else.”
    â€œI don’t believe he said anything against me.” The Chameleon laughed nervously. “Besides, what could he say? I run breeding farms.”
    Snell snorted again. “Any time you want to quit lying, just feel free. Please make it soon because I’m tired of fooling around. I’d like to get home to my wife and kids by dinnertime.”
    But Snell didn’t get home before dinner. He was lucky that he made it in time for a late-night snack. The Chameleon didn’t give up easily. He kept saying that what he was doing was perfectly legal.
    Finally Agent Snell made a call to Captain Montez in Manaus. He told him that he had arrested The Chameleon—Waldo Lou. Then he told The Chameleon what he had learned from Captain Montez.
    The