Sam Drake, P.I., The Poultry Super Sleuth
The Black Egg Caper
A Sam Drake, Private Investigator, Mystery
The knock on the door was a light, somewhat timid tapping. Sam thought to himself, "female...young...unsure..." Sam had no secretary in his small office to screen visitors and schedule appointments. Oh, he had approached Old Jim about a larger office and clerical help, but thus far nothing had come of it.
Sam opened the door and invited a young, visibly disturbed duck in. After she had been seated and regained here composure somewhat, he asked, "Now, young lady, how can I help you?"
"They're dead! All of them...and I think someone killed them!", she blurted out as tears welled up in her eyes.
"Now, now young lady. Get hold of yourself. Please start at the beginning and carefully explain what has happened. First of all, what is your name?", Sam inquired.
"I'm...I'm Daphne Duck", she sniffled, "and I live in the lower tempfenced area. A few days ago, just after Old Jim had shifted the fence, I went foraging into a new place down in the iris garden area. As I foraged about I came upon this lovely group of green eggs, eight of them to be precise."
"The eggs were cold. No one was caring for them, obviously, and though I am a young runner duck who has just started to lay, the eggs attracted me. I know runners are not supposed to be very good setters, but I was moved to...to take care of the eggs. I started to incubate them and give them the best of care and...and....", Daphne Duck stopped, wracked with sobs and quivering.
"There, there Miss Daphne, things will be all right. You've come to the right person for help. Here, blow your bill and please continue," pleaded Sam.
"Well, the next day the eggs started to turn black! Black! It seems obvious to me that someone was jealous of my setting and had done something to kill the eggs during the few short times I had to leave the nest for a bite to eat or drink. They're all black and dead, Mr. Drake, and someone has committed a heinous crime. I've come to you for help in bringing the perpetrator to justice. Will...will you help me?", the young duck asked, her eyes filled with hope.
"Of course I will.", Sam replied. "Suppose we go to scene of this unfortunate occurrence and see what clues I can gather. A detective must gather as much evidence as rapidly as possible when something like this happens."
Sam and Daphne Duck walked down toward the lower tempfence area, climbed carefully over the fence at a low, sloping point, and proceeded to the nest area.
They were there just as Ms. Duck had described: eight black round things that were once beautiful green eggs.
Sam comforted Daphne as she turned away from the nest, no longer able to look on what once held much promise and delight for her.
"Yes, it appears that a foul fowl deed has indeed been done here.", Sam exclaimed. "I think it would be wise to call in the coroner to aid in this investigation, to try to determine the exact manner in which the eggs were killed. Please excuse me for a moment while I make a phone call."
Sam lifted his right wing and removed the cellular phone from its holster. The object in the holster under his left wing was quite different, and spoke very loudly but rarely...a small, drake-sized, nickle-plated revolver.
Sam dialed the number that he had called on several occasions.
High up in the lofty, leafy office in top of a red oak tree, the telephone rang...once, twice, thrice...and before the answering machine came on a squirrel picked up the phone and said, "Clive Carter".
"Coroner Carter", Sam said, "I'm investigating an apparent killing and I need your expertise."
Sam explained what he had been told and what he had seen. The coroner indicated that he would be there as soon as he could map out a proper route through the tree branches between his office and the lower tempfence area.
Clive Carter, M.D. is a general practitioner who takes care of a wide
variety of health concerns among varied groups of animals. His early internship
had been in emergency medicine at Athens General Hospital where he treated
many cockerals and pullets who, as fraternity and sorority pledges at the
University of Georgia, were being initiated by trying to cross the road.
Dr. Carter eventually trained in forensic medicine which especially qualified him for the position of County Coroner to which he had been elected last year. He rapidly established his name in forensic medicine through his splendid work on an incident of dog poisoning. Coroner Carter was able to show clearly that it was antifreeze solution that killed the dog, antifreeze that had been left accessible by an ignorant human. His testimony at the trial was instrumental in getting the human convicted on the charge of First Degree Carelessness.
Now Dr. Carter came over limb 4 of the red oak, across to branch 16 of the poplar tree then trunk to branch 7 and out to meet with limb 5 of the walnut tree. After that it was simply down trunk to the ground and a short jog to the crime scene.
"Hello, Dr. Carter", Sam greeted him warmly, "I hope that your trip over here went well."
"Oh yes, delightful. No snags nor rotting limbs, no hawks on the prowl...a very pleasant journey. Now show me what you can about the crime scene, please.", the coroner replied.
Sam showed the doctor around the iris bed area and the nest with the black eggs, emphasizing that they had not disturbed the scene in any way. Dr. Carter carefully voiced notes into a small, portable tape recorder.
After a few moments, the coroner said, "Sam, something is not quite right here. I need to pick up one of these eggs and examine it here in the field. I think I can solve this mystery on the spot without having to do extensive laboratory analysis."
Carter picked up an egg, rotated it carefully in his hand, examined it with a magnifying glass, smelled it carefully...then bit into it to the astonishment of Ms. Duck and Sam.
"Just as I thought, " the coroner exclaimed. "Sam and Ms. Duck, I don't mean to embarrass you, but these aren't eggs! They are black walnuts. If you had a good sense of smell you would have realized it, but as you know fowl have a generally poor sense of smell. In fact, you may recall that was one of the central issues in the last political campaign for the office of coroner when I ran against Malcom Rooster and Florence Pigeon."
"I would postulate that this is what has happened.", Dr. Carter continued. "Do you see that black walnut tree on the bank above the iris bed? Each year when the walnuts develop, they have a green hull on them. They fall off the tree, and in the rows of the iris beds, gravity and water must have moved them into this nest-like cluster. Gradually the hulls will turn very black, in fact, the hulls can be used to dye fabric and other things. Ms. Duck, be happy that your lovely feathers didn't get dyed from the hulls as you sat on the 'eggs'."
Daphne Duck blushed profusely...even the topmost feathers on her head turned slightly pink. In her timid, child-like voice she said, "Oh, I'm so embarrassed. I've caused you so much trouble, but I am relieved that no crime has been committed. It troubled me to think that some jealous duck in the yard could do such a thing as I thought had occurred."
"Please don't be embarrassed. You did the proper thing.", Dr. Carter said as he tried to make her more comfortable. " You will recall that the females of all fowl species have the propensity to set on round objects, golf balls for example or dummy eggs provide by humans, so what you did was really quite natural."
Sam, who was also embarrassed but very skilled in hiding embarassment, said, "Well, that about wraps everything up here. Dr. Carter, thank you for your help in this matter. I look forward to working with you in the future. As the old saying goes, 'all's well that ends well'."
That evening as Sam supervised Old Jim's washing and
filling of the water tub, Old Jim said, "Sam, what's this I hear
about your latest case involving eggs that turned out to be
walnuts?"
Sam responded, "Yes, it's true, and frankly it's a little bad for my reputation. I should have looked around and noted the other walnuts scattered on the bank and in the other rows. Sometimes one can simply get misled or jump to conclusions too soon."
"Aw, relax, Sam.", Old Jim retorted, "Your reputation is intact. You did solve the case, and part of being a good detective is knowing your resources, who to call to assist you in solving a case or who has the power to get something done."
"Well, thank you Old Jim," Sam said with his confidence returning, "and speaking of power to get something done, I'd like to remind you that I really do need a larger office. A bit of clerical help would be nice too. You see there's this young lady who is skilled as a secretary, a Miss Daphne Duck, and you might be able to hire her for the position..."
The Case of the Alien Invasion
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James D. Satterfield Canton GA USA jsatt@gsu.edu