ôDid you find the liver?ö asked Chase, glancing around.
ôNot yet,ö Abe said. ôBut if it really was Hannibal Lecter, I wouldnÆt, would I?ö
ôDo you have a time of death for me, Abe?ö asked Chase a little curtly.
ôBetween ten and midnight, IÆd say. And before you ask: judging from the copious amounts of blood and lividity he was killed right here on the spot. Killed and gutted.ö
ôMurder weapon?ö
ôIÆll go out on a limb here and say that youÆre looking for a serrated knife. Long, thin blade if IÆm correct. Though IÆll know more once IÆve had him on my slab.ö He grinned and stalked off, but not before adding, ôYou can expect my report on your desk, Kingsleys!ö
ôItÆs the same man who received that medal yesterday,ö said Dooley as we studied the dead man. ôThe one who got all of that fake blood thrown over him.ö
ôYeah, he didnÆt get to enjoy his medal for very long,ö I said.
ôDo you think it was an accident?ö
ôI doubt it, Dooley. People donÆt accidentally lose their livers.ö
ôYou mean it couldnÆt accidentally have fallen out?ö
ôNo, as far as I know a liver is firmly attached to a personÆs body.ö
ôOh.ö
ôI wonder what he was doing out here,ö said Chase as he took in the grisly scene.
A uniformed police officer had walked up and tapped his head with his index finger as a sign of respect.ôDead man is a Cotton Karat, sir. Main client of this farm.ö
ôKarat was a client of this duck farm?ö
ôYes, sir. This place right here is where they produce the famous Karat foie gras. Best liver p?t? in town, apparently, though IÆve never tasted it. Definitely the most expensive.ö
ôWho found the body?ö
ôThat would be a Merle Poltorak. HeÆs the owner, sir. Arrived for work this morning and came upon the dead body of Mr. Karat here. Says he recognized him immediately.ö
ôWell, he would, wouldnÆt he, if Karat was his main customer.ö
ôWhat do you want us to do, sir?ö asked the officer.
ôTalk to the neighbors. Find out if they saw anything. Did you find KaratÆs car?ö
ôYes, sir. ItÆs parked out front.ö
ôCheck the GPS. See where he arrived from. Oh, and did you find his phone?ö
ôYes, sir,ö said the copper, and handed Chase a plastic evidence bag containing a phone.
ôDo you think this is connected with yesterdayÆs incident?ö asked Odelia once the officer had left to advise the rest of the team.
ôThe protest in front of Town Hall? It might be. They seemed a pretty determined bunch. Protesting against animal cruelty, were they?ö
Odelia nodded.ôEspecially the process used to produce foie gras.ö
ôFoie gras,ö said Chase musingly. ôIsnÆt that French for fatty liver?ö
ôThere must be a connection,ö said Odelia. ôWeÆre in a duck farm, where foie gras was produced, and the farmÆs main client just lost his liver and had something forced down his throat.ö When Chase gave her an uncomprehending look, she added, ôFoie gras is produced by force-feeding ducks or geese in a process called gavage. Basically they stick a tube down their throats, straight into their stomach. The treatment engorges the liver to unnatural proportions, which is then harvested and sold as a delicacy.ö She made a face. ôItÆs a particularly cruel practice thatÆs been banned in several countries.ö
ôI see,ö said Chase as he surreptitiously touched his own throat.
ôPoor ducks,ö said Dooley. ôBeing fed is nice, but being force-fed doesnÆt sound like a lot of fun.ö
ôNo, it certainly doesnÆt,ö I agreed. We glanced over to the ducks quacking away nearby, and decided to wander over and ask them if they saw anything last night.
The first duck we met looked a little swollen, as if his meal hadnÆt agreed with him. And of course I shouldnÆt wonder, if it was being forced down his gullet with a metal tube.
ôHiya, fella,ö I said in as pleasant a voice as I could muster. ôHowÆs things?ö
ôNot well,ö he said, sounding as if his food might come up at any moment. ôIn fact I feel a little peaky today. Must be theàö He burped a squelchy sort of burp. ôà the weather.ö
ôYeah, must be,ö I said quietly. ôSo did you notice this guy arriving last night?ö
ôWhat guy?ö asked the duck, who stared at us, a little cross-eyed I now saw.
ôThe guy who was found dead out there this morning.ö
ôA dead guy? What dead guy?ö
ôCotton Karat. He was killed sometime last night, right in front of your stall.ö
The duck thought for a moment, then finally his face cleared.ôSo thatÆs what it was. I thought I heard some kind of fracas. I just figured it was humans doing human stuff, you know.ö
ôDid you see what happened by any chance?ö
He shrugged.ôNot really. I like to keep myself to myself. Think itÆs rude to pry.ö
ôWhatÆs your name, Mr. Duck?ö asked Dooley.
ôFred,ö said the duck with a vague sort of smile.
ôIÆm Dooley,ö said Dooley. ôAnd this is my friend Max. WeÆre detectives.ö
ôDetectives, huh? And what are you detecting?ö
ôThe murder of Cotton Karat,ö said Dooley helpfully.
ôOh, right.ö
ôSo you didnÆt hear anything?ö I asked. ôSome kind of argument, maybe?ö
ôI did hear a scream. Very high, girly sort of scream.ö
ôBut you didnÆt think to take a look who it was that screamed?ö
ôSome human, I guess. I mean, who cares, right? TheyÆre always up to something, humans are. Strange breed, if you ask me. A little cruel and not very nice to us ducks.ö
ôYou didnÆt see one person stabbing another person?ö
ôI did take a quick peek, if thatÆs what you mean.ö
ôAnd?ö I asked, anticipation making me a little breathless.
ôOne human was lying on the floor for some reason, and another was bent over them, doing something with a knife.ö
ôDid you get a good look at the person?ö
ôOh, sure.ö
ôAnd?ö I urged.
ôIt was a human,ö said the duck.
ôI know it was a human,ö I said, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice. ôBut what did this human look like is what IÆd like to know.ö
The duck shrugged again.ôThey all look the same to me, humans do. If youÆve seen one, youÆve seen them all.ö
I suppressed the urge to scream.ôWas this person a man or a woman? Tall or short? Fair-haired or dark-haired? ItÆs very important, Fred, to get a detailed description.ö
The duck thought for a moment, then finally shook his head.ôNope,ö he said. ôIÆm drawing a complete blank here. Like I said, all humans look the same to me.ö
Now I did let out a groan of despair, but it was wasted on the duck, who simply gave me a sort of blank look, then smiled and said,ôWeÆre in the same boat, arenÆt we, cat?ö
ôWhat do you mean?ö I asked.
He thrust out his rather bulging belly.ôYouÆre being groomed to have your liver removed too, arenÆt you? Though you look as if youÆre almost ready for harvesting.ö
Dooley suppressed a giggle at this, even as I threw the duck a dark look. It wasnÆt helpful, of course, since he was obviously a valuable witness. ôLook, if something springs to mind about what happened last night, please let us know.ö I would have given him my card, but since cats donÆt carry cards, or smartphones, that wasnÆt really an option.
We returned to the scene of the crime, and I must confess I found it baffling that a murder could have been committed in the presence of a barn full of ducks, and apparently no one had seen anything. But maybe Fred was right. Maybe for them all humans did look alike. To most humans all ducks look alike, too, of course.
And weÆd just joined Chase and Odelia, when the police officer returned and said, ôA man is here to see you, sir. He says itÆs urgent.ö
ôWhat man?ö asked Chase, whoÆd been crouching over the body, taking a closer look.