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ôDo you think it was an accident?ö

ôI doubt it, Dooley. People donÆt accidentally lose their livers.ö

ôYou mean it couldnÆt accidentally have fallen out?ö

ôNo, as far as I know a liver is firmly attached to a personÆs body.ö

ôOh.ö

ôI wonder what he was doing out here,ö said Chase as he took in the grisly scene.

A uniformed police officer had walked up and tapped his head with his index finger as a sign of respect.ôDead man is a Cotton Karat, sir. Main client of this farm.ö

ôKarat was a client of this duck farm?ö

ôYes, sir. This place right here is where they produce the famous Karat foie gras. Best liver p?t? in town, apparently, though IÆve never tasted it. Definitely the most expensive.ö

ôWho found the body?ö

ôThat would be a Merle Poltorak. HeÆs the owner, sir. Arrived for work this morning and came upon the dead body of Mr. Karat here. Says he recognized him immediately.ö

ôWell, he would, wouldnÆt he, if Karat was his main customer.ö

ôWhat do you want us to do, sir?ö asked the officer.

ôTalk to the neighbors. Find out if they saw anything. Did you find KaratÆs car?ö

ôYes, sir. ItÆs parked out front.ö

ôCheck the GPS. See where he arrived from. Oh, and did you find his phone?ö

ôYes, sir,ö said the copper, and handed Chase a plastic evidence bag containing a phone.

ôDo you think this is connected with yesterdayÆs incident?ö asked Odelia once the officer had left to advise the rest of the team.

ôThe protest in front of Town Hall? It might be. They seemed a pretty determined bunch. Protesting against animal cruelty, were they?ö

Odelia nodded.ôEspecially the process used to produce foie gras.ö

ôFoie gras,ö said Chase musingly. ôIsnÆt that French for fatty liver?ö

ôThere must be a connection,ö said Odelia. ôWeÆre in a duck farm, where foie gras was produced, and the farmÆs main client just lost his liver and had something forced down his throat.ö When Chase gave her an uncomprehending look, she added, ôFoie gras is produced by force-feeding ducks or geese in a process called gavage. Basically they stick a tube down their throats, straight into their stomach. The treatment engorges the liver to unnatural proportions, which is then harvested and sold as a delicacy.ö She made a face. ôItÆs a particularly cruel practice thatÆs been banned in several countries.ö

ôI see,ö said Chase as he surreptitiously touched his own throat.

ôPoor ducks,ö said Dooley. ôBeing fed is nice, but being force-fed doesnÆt sound like a lot of fun.ö

ôNo, it certainly doesnÆt,ö I agreed. We glanced over to the ducks quacking away nearby, and decided to wander over and ask them if they saw anything last night.

The first duck we met looked a little swollen, as if his meal hadnÆt agreed with him. And of course I shouldnÆt wonder, if it was being forced down his gullet with a metal tube.

ôHiya, fella,ö I said in as pleasant a voice as I could muster. ôHowÆs things?ö

ôNot well,ö he said, sounding as if his food might come up at any moment. ôIn fact I feel a little peaky today. Must be theàö He burped a squelchy sort of burp. ôà the weather.ö

ôYeah, must be,ö I said quietly. ôSo did you notice this guy arriving last night?ö

ôWhat guy?ö asked the duck, who stared at us, a little cross-eyed I now saw.

ôThe guy who was found dead out there this morning.ö

ôA dead guy? What dead guy?ö

ôCotton Karat. He was killed sometime last night, right in front of your stall.ö

The duck thought for a moment, then finally his face cleared.ôSo thatÆs what it was. I thought I heard some kind of fracas. I just figured it was humans doing human stuff, you know.ö

ôDid you see what happened by any chance?ö

He shrugged.ôNot really. I like to keep myself to myself. Think itÆs rude to pry.ö

ôWhatÆs your name, Mr. Duck?ö asked Dooley.

ôFred,ö said the duck with a vague sort of smile.

ôIÆm Dooley,ö said Dooley. ôAnd this is my friend Max. WeÆre detectives.ö

ôDetectives, huh? And what are you detecting?ö

ôThe murder of Cotton Karat,ö said Dooley helpfully.

ôOh, right.ö

ôSo you didnÆt hear anything?ö I asked. ôSome kind of argument, maybe?ö

ôI did hear a scream. Very high, girly sort of scream.ö

ôBut you didnÆt think to take a look who it was that screamed?ö

ôSome human, I guess. I mean, who cares, right? TheyÆre always up to something, humans are. Strange breed, if you ask me. A little cruel and not very nice to us ducks.ö

ôYou didnÆt see one person stabbing another person?ö

ôI did take a quick peek, if thatÆs what you mean.ö

ôAnd?ö I asked, anticipation making me a little breathless.

ôOne human was lying on the floor for some reason, and another was bent over them, doing something with a knife.ö

ôDid you get a good look at the person?ö

ôOh, sure.ö

ôAnd?ö I urged.

ôIt was a human,ö said the duck.

ôI know it was a human,ö I said, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice. ôBut what did this human look like is what IÆd like to know.ö

The duck shrugged again.ôThey all look the same to me, humans do. If youÆve seen one, youÆve seen them all.ö