Dastardly Doings - Part 6

Your friendly local detectives have been given a tip-off that Cols and Woodies are refusing to cooperate with Jimboomba’s finest. The police have a nice little protection racket going but the ‘Big Two’ supermarkets opted out of the scheme six weeks ago and, since then, a wave of suspicious deaths has swept through the region. Following the tip-off, Arjy and Sean drive to Cols and as they arrive in the shopping centre car park they see several police cars awkwardly parked in an emergency huddle with lights flashing. Constable Gruff guards the main entrance to Cols.

(Arjy shows Constable Gruff a Bogan Council luncheon voucher and Gruff lifts the police cordon tape to allow her through. Sean flashes his Video Ezy card and follows Arjy. The supermarket seems deserted apart from a small group in the freezer section. Senior Sergeant Slideback stands in front of the frozen fish and looks bemused. Bistro Waiters, the editor of the local newspaper, is dancing up and down with glee and scribbling furiously in his notepad while the supermarket management team grimly look on. As she gets closer, Arjy can see yet another dead body in the bottom of the freezer cabinet. Beside the body are a hatbox and a coiled length of chain.)

Arjy: Good afternoon, Senior Sergeant. More problems?

Senior Sergeant Slideback: Well, well, its Mrs. Holmes and Dr. Whatsup. This should be right up your alley. We’ve got another suicide for you to puzzle over and it’s a real tricky one.

Bistro Waiters: Cols Shooting – Police Baffled.

Arjy: Suicide? What did he do, shoot himself in the back from the other side of the room?

Senior Sergeant Slideback: You seem to know a lot about this case. What makes you say it was a shooting?

Arjy: Lucky guess. So what happened?

Bistro Waiters: Rival Crime Fighters Team Up.

Senior Sergeant Slideback: The victim climbed inside the freezer cabinet and shot himself. A shopper discovered the corpse when she picked up a bag of frozen mixed vegetables. We arrived and uncovered the rest of the body. But here’s the tricky part, the gun was found beside the body but it was inside a hatbox secured with chains and a padlock. The key was missing so we had to use bolt cutters on the chain.

Bistro Waiters: Evidence Chain Broken.

Arjy: How the hell do you reckon this was suicide? That’s the most idiotic conclusion I’ve ever heard.

Senior Sergeant Slideback: That’s because you’re a damned amateur but for your information, clever dick, the gun was still in the victim’s hand.

Bistro Waiters: Police Outsmart Local Gumshoe.

Arjy: I thought you said the gun was in a locked box?

Senior Sergeant Slideback: So was the victim’s hand. It had sort of …. detached itself from the body. I told you this was tricky.

Arjy: Let me see if I have this right. The victim shoots himself, cuts off the hand still holding the gun, puts the gun in a hatbox and chains it up. He secures the chain with a padlock, locks it and hides the key. He then lies down in a freezer and pulls one hundred and fifty packets of frozen cod over himself so he won’t be discovered until the supermarket is full of people thereby getting maximum exposure for his performance. Is that the way you see it, Senior Sergeant?

Bistro Waiters: Not so fast. What did you say after ‘frozen cod’?

Senior Sergeant Slideback: Of course it didn’t happen like that. That’s ridiculous. Why would he hide the key? Ok, Ok, I’m willing to concede the possibility, and it’s only a possibility, that the victim may have had an accomplice.

Bistro Waiters: Police Admit Error.

Arjy: An accomplice? What, like a murderer?

Senior Sergeant Slideback: There has been no murder here, Miss, and I think it’s a timely time to remind you that the police are handling this enquiry, not Barjy Bean Investigations. You are welcome to help out, as are any members of the public, but that is as far as it goes.

Bistro Waiters: Police Stymied – Seek Help.

Arjy: So the victim shot himself where? The head?

Senior Sergeant Slideback: We think so but it’s hard to tell with all the tyre marks across the face.

Arjy: Tyre marks? The face looks like a pizza with everything! The head is totally flattened! You could swipe it down a nuns arse-crack!

Bistro Waiters: Nuns Behind Pizza Topping.

Arjy/Slideback: Will you shut up and piss off!

Bistro Waiters: Press Gagged.

Sean: I may be wrong, Senior Sergeant, but isn’t that a water pistol in the hatbox?

Senior Sergeant Slideback: Hmmmm, I think you’re right. We may have to revise our thinking here a little bit. Of course, the victim may have drowned himself……. But that still doesn’t explain what happened to the padlock key.

Arjy: There’s also the mystery of the mixed vegies.

Senior Sergeant Slideback: What?

Arjy: You said a customer uncovered the body when picking up a bag of frozen mixed vegetables.

Senior Sergeant Slideback: So?

Arjy: So what were the mixed vegies doing in the frozen fish freezer?

Senior Sergeant Slideback: My God! That’s right!

Arjy: Where is the manager of this place?

Senior Sergeant Slideback: Just over there, whispering to his staff. He’s a Scotsman and a bit…. Well, you’ll find out. His name is Billy Colony.

Arjy: Mr. Colony! Could you help us out please?

(A large, hairy individual steps up. He leaves his staff creased with helpless laughter as he saunters across to Arjy.)

Billy Colony: Aheesh ta ye fine wimun. Tha nae cally since?

Arjy: Could we forget the jokes please, I don’t have much of a sense of humour in a situation like this.

Billy Colony: Greeet! Tae mair cunni on tay ye lassie. Wha’ fuckerrrs dij ye keen follin tae me, huh?

Senior Sergeant Slideback: Oh, he’s off again. Oh my, oh my. Stop. No more please. You should have been here when he saw the body. Laugh? The bugger nearly made me wet myself!

Billy Colony: Koosh! Senna Sergint, Wha’ the fuck dae ye pinna the kin, so it does. My bollocks kidda harry borsin. Wak falla tha sin!

Senior Sergeant Slideback: Oh, stop! Stop, stop, stop! Oh, my ribs!

Arjy: Mr. Colony! You may have these idiots fooled, but not me. I’ve met people like you before. You get your reputation and then sit back for the ride. Your audience laughs now, not because you’re funny but because you’re expected to be funny. The audience kid themselves that they are listening to a funny man but really you are just another foul-mouthed creep with a stupid accent. So just cut the crap will you? Where did the mixed veggies come from and how did they get in with the cod?

Billy Colony: Cheezus! Iris Pessary wiz right. Ye are a nasty cow. So ye wint tae know where the frozen vegies come fram hey? Well, why didnae ye look at the fucking bag properly? Go on – look at it, ye smart-arrrsed lang leggity bitch!

(Billy Colony snatches up the bag of vegetables and thrusts them at Arjy. She glares at the bag as if it is deliberately trying to confuse her. A moment later her anger changes to astonishment. She takes the bag and turns to Senior Sergeant Slideback.)

Arjy: This is a ‘Select’ brand. It’s a Woodies product.

Billy Colony: Och! The lassie has maer than one brain cell. Whoop-di-fuckin-doo! Ring the fucking bells and gi’ the lass a coconut.

Senior Sergeant Slideback: Oooooh dear! Gi’ the lass a coconut! That is priceless! Dear, dear, dear. What will he say next? Oh my aching stomach. Where's my hankie, I can't see for tears. Oh, dear, dear, dear.

Arjy: Sean, we’re going across to Woodies. Does anyone know the name of the Woodies manager?

Billy Colony: Aye lass. He’s anither of your comedians who sit on their reputations. The fucking wanker talks like a machine gun and says nothing. He’s got a good name for a Woodies supermarket manager, though.

Arjy: What is it?

Billy Colony: Robbin Millions.

TO BE CONTINUED.