THE CHICKEN COLD CASE: INVESTIGATION REPORT

By Detective Orville Pun

It started out as just another routine investigation, but all that changed the second I opened the refrigerator door.

The body was lying on a tray before me – wrapped in plastic, plucked, headless and feetless. It was obviously the work of a villain.

You need a strong stomach to do this job.

I examined the subject more closely.

Chicken.

Caucasian.

Size: Medium.

Weight: 1.3kg.

Height: difficult to say.

Cause of death: as yet unknown.

It was time to put my extensive policing skills to the test and set out on the trail of the killer. I threw open the chiller door.

‘Freeze!’ I shouted.

Luckily, everyone already had.

I approached my first suspect. It was a hard man going by the name of Ice Block. Right from the get-go I didn’t like the look of him one little bit. He appeared cold and set in his ways. I sensed a bad attitude. It was almost like he had iced water in his veins.

Despite my repeated questioning, Ice Block kept mum. Definitely a cool character. But I wasn’t giving up just yet, so I arranged for him to come to the station the next day for a more thorough interrogation.

Time to move on.

I located a second suspect lurking at the back of the freezer.

‘Hold it right there, sister. I’m Detective Orville Pun. What’s your name?’

‘Ice Cream.’

Interesting. Now we were getting somewhere.

‘Really? And why is that? What did you see or hear that caused you to scream? A murder, perhaps?’

She looked confused (and possibly impressed) by my skilful line of questioning.

‘No, that’s my name, you clown. Ice Cream. Strawberry Ice Cream. And as for murder, I’m telling you, I don’t know nothin’ about no murder!’

‘Wrong. You don’t know anything about any murder.’

‘Exactly. I’m glad you agree.’

It was clear that she was crumbling under my clever and incisive cross-examination.

‘Listen, lady, I’ve got one dead chicken downstairs so I need to know if you saw or heard anything suspicious that may assist me in my investigation. Anything at all. Like maybe you noticed some strangers or suspicious characters hanging about?’

‘Well now that you mention it, a whole family of eggs did move in down there yesterday.’

At last! Could this be the breakthrough I was seeking?

‘Excellent! And was that before or after the chicken moved in?’

Unfortunately Strawberry had no idea. I jotted down a quick reminder in my notebook: Urgent. Must check which one came first – the chicken or the eggs.

I had a feeling this was developing into a tricky case.

I left the freezer and paid a visit downstairs, where I completed a series of interviews.

First I questioned the Egg family but they refused to crack. (Although just between you and me, I think some of their brains were scrambled – or possibly fried.)

Next I moved on to Honey. A real sweetie but of no help whatsoever.

Then there was Clingwrap. Thin and anxious and the sort of person who I suspected could be involved in some sort of a cover-up.

After that came Bread. He refused to take the money I offered him for information. Said he didn’t need it. Apparently, he already had heaps of dough.

Finally I decided to grill Cheese – but that was just for my lunch.

Then, just as I was about to wrap up, I spied a trail of red spots looking suspiciously like blood. I followed them right to the source! BBQ Sauce to be exact. A tallish chap with a leaky nose.

Just like all the others, BBQ claimed he was innocent, but at least he had something more for me. He’d heard rumours of the Chicken associating with some unsavoury characters. I wrote them all down as he identified them.

Chicken with Avocado. Chicken with Mayonnaise. Chicken with Salad. Chicken with Sweet and Sour Sauce. Even Chicken with Garlic. This case was definitely hotting up!

My list of suspects had just doubled, so I decided to call it a day. (I found out later that someone else had already called it that, so I guess I really can’t take any credit for it.)

The following morning there was a major breakthrough.

I’d only just begun my interrogation of Ice Block beneath the hot lights at the station, when to my surprise he completely lost his rock-hard exterior and totally went to water!

As far as I was concerned it was as good as a confession, so I charged him on the spot and locked him up.

Sadly, I never did figure out what Ice Block's motive could have possibly been, or exactly how he would have even committed the murder. I mean, I imagine it would have been quite difficult to do, what with him having no arms or legs or eyes or ears or a brain or nerves or any visible means of support or movement or in fact any bodily functions whatsoever. Or any body for that matter.

Still, they’re just a few loose ends and minor details. The important thing is, I got my man!

Naturally, when the trial came around, Ice Block continued to proclaim his innocence, but to no avail. Apparently the jury saw right through him.

Anyway, I’m pleased to report that Ice Block was found guilty and subsequently thrown in the cooler.

Where he remains to this day, a hardened criminal.