I had one of those sleepless nights where you don’t do much but wrestle the blankets and the pillows, and you wake up more tired than when you went to bed. It really makes me wish I could stay home today and try again. Or maybe not. Because this night of sleeplessness was not last night. I lied. I was stalling while my mind tried desperately to come up with a story idea to go along with…
A cold, dark night had given way to the chaos of a crime scene. The body lay, covered by a large sheet, just under the shadow of a tall wall. The detectives make bets on how soon it would be before the high-profile nature of the case would draw media attention, and worried about the political implications for the death of a high-ranking political figure, murder or not. It was not every day that they were called upon to investigate the circumstances surrounding the death of a well-known egg, and H. Dumpty, Minister of Finance, was about as high-profile as you could get. All the cold open needed was a wise-cracking detective to make a joke about how the victim should’ve asked to be served “over-easy” instead of “scrambled.”
When all the King’s staff had failed to resurrect the fallen egg from her great height, it was time for the crack team of crime scene investigators to analyze and gather information from the scene. The team collected a number of samples, took hundreds of photos, and returned to their labs, committed to finding out what had happened.
“It was definitely murder. Tox screen turned up a high concentration of poison in her albumin. It could have been ingested, but I believe it was injected. I found a small injection site near her crown, which would have been nearly impossible for her to reach, and there were no other toxins or substances found in her system.”
“The concentration of poison suggested that the killer was taking no chances. It was more than enough to kill her outright. We’re still running a few tests to see if she had died on the wall, and then fell, or whether she was still alive when she plummeted,” explained the geeky looking guy in the lab coat.
“Do you want to hear the really bad news?” He continued “The egg was fertilized. Probably about 5-6 days ago. Any candler worth his or her salt would’ve noticed. Did anyone know Humpty was expecting? Because, it is possible that the father of Humpty’s unborn child is involved.”
One of the grim looking detectives from the crime scene said, “That opens up a whole new set of motives. A possible heir to the Dumpty fortune would be huge news, but, the person who would otherwise stand to inherit the fortune is an elderly bird in Sausalito. She’d have problems wingin’ it here from the home, much less sneak up on her niece at the top of a tall wall. Maybe the father didn’t want his identity revealed when the pregnancy got out in the next few weeks.””
“Could the motive be political? Dumpty was not well-respected as Minister of Finance. Her wall-sitting led many people to the impression that she was little more than a faineant. In addition to her supposed work ethic, many people thought the only thing she could balance was herself, which, admittedly, is not an easy task for an egg.”
“It had to be someone who knew she liked to sit on that wall, and they tried to make it look like an accident.”
“Everyone knew she liked to sit on that wall. The only reason it wasn’t swarmed with paparazzi day and night was that it was too tall to get a good picture, which Humpty knew well.”
“The splatter pattern indicates that someone, or something was standing near the impact site. Probably less than three feet away. Whatever was there would have been covered in quite a mess. So, I guess the yolk’s on them…”
The others glared at him.
“OK, OK, I couldn’t resist.”
The detective grimaced. “What if the yolk guy is the killer?”
“Well, if so we’ll find him. It’s not so easy to get egg off your face…”
I figured that doing a story where there was a bunch of lab guys investigate a famous dead chick and solve her murder would probably boost my ratings, so, it had to be done. Of course, I didn’t actually solve her murder, did I? Maybe next week. Same time, same station.
faineant / fa – na – AH / an irresponsible idler
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