Poached Yeggs Tells a Fairy Tale

I’m Deviled Yeggs.  I’m a detective sergeant, working homicide in the big city of Tracy.  Jim Wednesday is my partner.  He’s been on a honeymoon for a while and we are expectantly awaiting his return.  When I say “we,” I am referring to Jim’s and my junior detective assistant, Poached Yeggs, who is also my nephew.  Although I thought I had an agreement for everyone in Tracy to behave during Jim’s absence, Poached and I pulled a case.

As Poached and I were closing the file on our new case, now solved, Jim walked into the bullpen with a crowd of people.  Jim announced, “May I introduce my wife, Tuesday Wednesday.  She is holding our older son by the new name of Thursday Wednesday.  In the pram are the twins, Friday and Saturday Wednesday.”  (If you are wondering about the ready-made family, read Deviled Yeggs Examines All that Glitters.)

The Captain yelled from the door of his office, “Get ‘em outta here!  This ain’t no nursery!”

Jim laughed, “Al, you are all heart.  I just wanted everyone to get to know the family.”  The Captain grunted and slammed his door.

Everyone in the bull pen started commenting about each of the Wednesday family.  Since there had just been a honeymoon, they laughed about Jim and Tuesday not having a tan and looking tired and washed out.  As for the children, they talked about how cute they were and how each looked a bit different, but they also had a family resemblance.

Tuesday explained, “Well, everyone here knows that I do the legwork for Detective Wolfe in Stout County.  Some time ago, a woman was killed.  She was a kept woman, and she had three children.  The twins were just born at the time and she had the older brother, about a year at the time.  We determined that the man who paid her bills had killed her.  He didn’t find any resemblance of himself in any of the three children.  When we did a DNA test on each child.  Each had a different father, but none of the DNA matched the murderer.  My heart went out to the children, so I thought of them when Jim proposed.  Jim talked about starting a family as quickly as possible.  I’ve been visiting the children at the orphanage ever since.”

I asked, “Wait.  The two youngest are twins, but they have different fathers?”

Jim explained, “The murder victim had a bunch of love interests.  The twins are paternal twins.”

Tuesday interjected, “That’s fraternal twins.  Friday is our baby boy and has a slithly darker complexion than Saturday, our darling little girl.”

Poached said, “Sounds like the children’s birth mother had the same kind of love life as our latest case that we just solved.”

Jim’s interest perked up, “Oh?”

I said that Poached’s assessment of our victim was a little bit of a stretch, but I let Poached tell the tale.  Poached started, “Once upon a time in the big city of Tracy…”

Jim erupted, “Poached, if you are going to be a detective someday, you better tell the story straight.”

I laughed, “No, he wrote the report straight, but this might work better.  Wait ‘til you hear it.”

Poached restarted, “Once upon a time there was a beautiful young eye doctor, but she had a sordid past.  Here name was Floxie Moxie, the Foxy Doxy.  …”

Jim interrupted, “I know her!”

Tuesday looked grimly at her husband, “You know a doxy, a mistress, a kept woman?”

Jim cowered, “No, not like that.  She did my cousin’s cataract surgery three months ago.”

Poached continued, “As I was saying, Floxie Moxie, the Foxy Doxy, was a good doc, see, and she had a lot of moxie.  As for her past, she was a medical student, but she ran out of money.  This young surgeon, Ket O. Rolack, set her up in an apartment and paid for her remaining education.  She then came to work for him after she finished school.  He was much older, but he was a bachelor.  As far as we could tell, he loved her but never had a romantic relationship.  He just saw a chance to get a talented partner.  He may not have been romantic, but he felt she owed him for the money he had shelled out.”

“Well, Rolack started noticing evidence of visitors in Moxie’s apartment, the apartment that she still used and Rolay continued to pay for.  He investigated and found out that her boyfriend was a guy by the name of Prydnz.”

Jim interrupted, “What kind of name is that?”

“Eastern European.  Whole bunch of letters and no vowels, P-R-Y-D-N-Z.  And Jim, I’d be done if you didn’t keep interrupting.”  Jim nodded, and Poached continued.  “Rolack confronted Prydnz, but, in time, the two hit it off.  Rolack got the idea that Prydnz would provide a love interest that he had failed to spark.  Moxie would be even more interested in staying on as the business partner of Rolack.  That is until we were called to the scene.  The apartment was covered in little drops, everywhere.  It seems that Floxie Moxie had been squeezed out of an eye dropper, one excruciating drop at a time.”

Jim exploded, “Wait!  I gotta interrupt.  How is that possible?”

I shook my head, “Jim, we asked the crime scene techs to explain it, but they can’t quite figure out how it happened.  But the evidence that it did happen is that we’ve got a coffin contained several gallon jugs, rich in Floxie Moxie DNA.”

Note from the Editor:  I apologize for the ridiculous idea that a woman was squeezed out of an eye dropper.  I asked the writer, who we all know as someone who smiles at inappropriate times with his eyes in a constant thousand-mile stare, and he said that he’d asked his crime scene friends, and they couldn’t figure it out either.  I swear, at times I think the man just makes stuff up!

Poached regained a bit of control, “Anyway, after a lot of digging, we learned that Rolack did not have a binding contract with Moxie, so she could leave.  Moxie didn’t have a monogamous relationship with Prydnz either.  She had given Rolack notice that she was moving out of town.  She had met an Italian doctor at a conference.  They’d fallen in love and she was leaving.  Of course, Deviled and I suspected Rolack and Prydnz.  When all you have is a liquid, time of death was anyone’s guess.  No need to look for an alibi.  We grilled the two suspects.  Got nothing.  Both made it sound like they would love to have done it, but both denied doing the deed.  We thought they were in it together.  Rolack could have invented how to do it, and Prydnz could have provided the muscle.”

“In the end, our techs in the lab solved it.  With gallons and gallons of DNA to run, it took three days before they found a trace of DNA from Prydnz.  We confronted him with the evidence, and he caved in.  He refused to tell us how he did it, but he confessed.  Funny, the Prednz DNA could have been contamination from a previous visit, since the little drops were everywhere.”

Jim asked, “Could it be that Rolack was the brains and Prydnz just did the deed?”

Poached shook his head, “No, it was Prydnz alone.”

Tuesday pulled me aside, “Deviled, how has the sleeping on the sofa been going?”

I smiled, “That’s over and done with.  You know, Glyce, she explodes, but she cools down quickly.  But it was different this time.”  Tuesday said, “Oh?” or something like that.  “Yeah, the first night, I noticed something scratching me.  The next night, it seemed that the scratching things had multiplied.  Each night it got worse until I got stuck real bad.  I screamed and jumped off the sofa.  I found a tack that Glyce had placed in the sofa for me to lie down on – a whole lot of tacks.  Since she hadn’t gotten a response out of me, she kept adding more and more tacks each night until I got bit hard.  When I turned around after finding the tacks, Glyce was leaning against the wall, smiling at me, arms folded in satisfaction.  She said something about how I should be careful not to work on a case when I was performing my duties as best man in a wedding ceremony in the future.  I told her that was highly unlikely to happen since Jim was the only partner that I would ever need, so there wouldn’t be anymore best man duties for me.  She said that I had screwed up on my previous case, the case of the jet pack turned rocket man.  Never did find the body.  Glyce said that I should have interviewed Callie Johnson, the doctoral candidate ornithologist, and Poached should have interviewed Biff Barth, the surfer dude.  Seems Callie and Poached have been dating.”

Tuesday laughed, “Oh, goody!  Glyce and I just love weddings.”

“Woah!  I don’t think it’s that serious.  But this thing about the tacks in the sofa, that is so not Glyce’s style.  She explodes!  It may be nasty in the moment, but once all the debris comes back to ground level, it’s over.  This took planning, patience, and a devious streak.  Where did that come from?”

Tuesday shrugged, “I don’t know.  Maybe Glyce is learning new skills.  She is a college professor, you know.  But don’t worry, I am getting to be a good detective myself, working for Detective Wolfe, as I do.  I feel like I might have the skills to get to the bottom of this tack in the sofa case.  After all, we’re like family now.  You and Jim are brothers in blue.  I can hang around Glyce and learn all kinds of things.  She might even learn a thing or two from me, she being a college professor and into that learning stuff, you know?”

I asked, “Glyce hasn’t already learned something from you already, has she?  Like tacks in a sofa?”

Tuesday winked, “I will not confirm or deny.”

Jim interrupted, “Tuesday, all three of the kids are asleep at the same time.  It’s a miracle.  Poached told his little fairy tale, and they are all out.  First time since the five of us became a family!”

Tuesday asked Poached, “Poached, your story put the kids to sleep.  You have a way with them.  Would you be interested in babysitting?

Poached cleared his throat, “I don’t know, Tuesday, umm, Mrs. Wednesday.  They are looking for folks in Vice to work undercover.  It just wouldn’t work out.”  With that, Poached excused himself.

I scratched my head.  “We’ve been trying to get Poached to move over to Vice so that Jim and I can be a duo again.  You come in and solve the problem.  I like having you around, Tuesday.”

“He’ll be back.  You know how he became a junior detective.  Everywhere he went, he discovered a dead body.  He’s a dead body magnet.  He won’t last a month in Vice,” Tuesday replied.

Credits:

This story took some time to gel.  As many know, I had cataract surgery.  One eye in late May and the other two weeks later in June.  It seems that everything is going great.  I am still taking some of the post-op antibiotics to prevent eye infections.  I just finished my last post-op doctor visit before the refraction test in a month, but my latest doctor visit left me the “all clear” in more ways than one.  I did this story as a ‘thank you’ to all involved and poke a little fun at the eye drops that I take three times a day.

First, there is Moxifloxacin.  I am finished with that one, but when I would talk to the nurse, I’d always say “Floxie Moxie,” thus I had my victim.

Second, the one that burned the most in the beginning is Ketorolac.  Change that to Ket O. Rolack and you have the first suspect.

Third, the one that has started to become the top burning agent is Prednisolone, or Poached’s final verdict.  It was Prydnz alone.  Uggh, I will still have these drops for a couple more weeks in one eye.

Dedication:

This story is my first one with a dedication.  I’d like to dedicate the story to the hospital staff, from registration to pre-op to post op.  Also, to the surgical team and the office people: those who scheduled everything and those who did all the pre-op and post-op measurements and tests.  Thank you all.

9 Comments

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  1. atimetoshare.me June 24, 2019 — 9:09 am

    What kind of drops are you putting into your eyes? They seem to have scrambled your brain a little.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You are so good at writing. I was intrigued through the whole thing. A short story. So much fun to read. You two are cracking me up. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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