Cassidy could smell Foxy Loxy approach before he could see him. This was in part due to his phenomenal sense of smell but also because he was blind in one eye after being glassed during a pub brawl. Cassidy looked down on the fox slightly and not just because of his size. Although he was a top class investigator, Foxy Loxy did not do enough ‘real police work’ as Cassidy called it, like sniffing out smuggled drugs, uncovering murder weapons or sinking your teeth into the buttocks of a fleeing suspect.
“Greetings, Cassidy,” Foxy Loxy greeted him.
“Hello Foxy. Good morning, Weasel.”
“There’s nothing good about it,” replied Weasel in customary fashion.
“What’s that lump on your back, Foxy?” asked Cassidy.
“That’s a mole.” Foxy Loxy answered.
“You should get that checked out.” Cassidy told him. “A new mole or unsightly growth could be an indication of skin cancer.”
“I say, old chap, who are you calling an unsightly growth?” asked Turkey Lurkey, for it was he.
“Me, probably.” Weasel chipped in.
Foxy ignored him. “This is Turkey Lurkey. He’s a mole. Mr Lurkey is helping us with our enquiries.”
Turkey Lurkey jumped down off Foxy’s back to shake Cassidy’s paw. Then he jumped back up and hung off the chain round the fox’s neck, for Turkey Lurkey was something of a pendant.
“Why do they call you Turkey Lurkey if you’re a mole?” asked Cassidy.
“My parents wanted a girl.”
“My parents wanted a polecat,” said Weasel.
Cassidy stared at the pair slack-jawed for a second before deciding that some conversations were simply not worth the effort. He turned back to Foxy Loxy. “So what ‘enquiries’ are you making then, Foxy? Someone permed Mrs Rafferty’s poodles again? He he he he he.”
“Ho ho,” Foxy replied dryly. “Something a bit more serious than that.”
Foxy looked around at the patch about which Cassidy had been sniffing. A whole area had been cordoned off by a barrier of police tape, staked into the ground on metal spikes. Within this zone were a number of chalk-lines marking the positions of disturbingly small pieces. At the centre of the taped-off region was a shallow crater.
“What happened here? Bomb blast?”
“Uh huh,” Cassidy nodded, “a Cult Mass Suicide Event.” He puffed out his chest proudly. “I’m looking for identifying remains.”
Foxy waved his head in the direction of WPC Evans, who was still spread-eagle on the grass. “Looks like you’ve missed an entire victim.”
“Ha ha. Actually, all the victims were naked.”
“How odd. I suppose that if you’re going to blow yourself up, there’s no point in wasting a good suit.” He looked back at the crater and nodded to himself. “A bomb would explain the strange objects falling out of the sky near here.”
“Like what?” Cassidy asked, suspiciously.
The police dog’s good eye lit up when he saw the tortoise shell that Foxy, Weasel and turkey had retrieved from the woods earlier that afternoon. (Of the sausage, there was no sign, presumably having been consumed by various denizens of the woods.)
“Can I have it?” Cassidy asked.
Foxy considered the request for a moment. “Sure, why not? I don’t think we can learn much more from it.”
“Cool. Cheers, Foxy.” Cassidy grabbed the shell in his mouth and bounded back over to WPC Evans.
Foxy turned to Weasel. “What d’you think, Weasel?”
“I figure he’ll probably pretend that he found it himself, thus hogging all the glory for himself and giving us none of the credit. But as I’m sure the leading investigator wouldn’t want to acknowledge our involvement anyway, it probably won’t make any difference.”
“I actually meant about the case.”
“Oh,” said Weasel. “Certainly seems to match a mass suicide. Bad luck for the poor old tortoise to get caught up in such things. Probably happen to us all, sooner or later. They do appear to have missed one thing, though. Probably not important.”
“All clues are important at this stage of an investigation.” Foxy reminded him. “What did they miss?”
Weasel pointed back away from the blast site to a set of small hoof-prints in the mud. “Goat tracks. Pretty fresh. Single animal. Judging by the size and spread, probably a youngster. Wandered over, stopped for a while, then wandered back the way it came.”
Foxy raised a bushy eyebrow. “Interesting. Let’s see where they go.”
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