It hadn’t taken us long to figure that one out: snake. I’d scrounged up a T-shirt promoting the Rainforest Reptile Refuge, a kind of SPCA for reptiles that I’d visited once on a trip north to Vancouver. I’d been investigating a case in which a four-meter-long boa had crushed a woman to death. I needed to know more about the habits of snakes so that I could determine if it had been a homicide or an accident. I’d learned that boas are quite docile—if they’re well fed. The pair of gentle giants I’d met had let me stroke their smooth chins, had tasted me with a flick of their tongues, and then had merely watched me, deciding I was interesting but not a threat.