It's a classic tale. A lone detective, a dark town, and a victim with a cod piece stuck in their ear. It's the sort of murder that could turn one to drink, to shun society and start a jazz band in his mother's basement. But not Dick. A man who's not quite Poirot, Sherlock, or Jake Peralta, but a man whose very much...well, Dick. Accompanied by a pallet of colourful characters, sharp tongues, wit and humour, we follow Dick and co on a bizarre journey to find truth, justice, and just how long a telephone cord really is.
(Dick Clever, Episode One, Dick and Doc)
THEME / JAZZ HORN PLAYING UNDER THE FOLLOWING:
DICK: 3:15pm Friday afternoon of the 22nd. I make my way down to the
forensic laboratory where Doc Prodder is finalising the results of
the autopsy of the fifth victim in a string of brutal, sick and graceless
killings. The Cod Piece Murders.
MENACING CHORD.
So named because each of the victims were found with a fish finger in
their ear. Christmas was not going to be the same..... this year.
SLIDING DOOR OPENING, THEN DICK WALKING IN.
DOC: Ah, there you are Dick.
DICK: What have you got for me, Doc?
DOC: Male, fifty, maybe fifty-five.
DICK: Time….
DOC: 3:16.
DICK: Of Death?
DOC: My apologies. Approximately fifteen days, it is a little hard to tell.
DICK: What’s that smell?
DOC: Do you like it?
DICK: It’s a little unusual, but I could get used to it.
DOC: Excellent, it is a little lavender and rosemary. It helps to relax and
stimulate the grey cells.
COFFEE MACHINE AND STEAMER STARTING UP.
Yes, time of death is a little sketchy, laying in salty water, for so long.
(PAUSE)
Coffee, Dick?
DICK: Oh, thanks Doc.
DOC: Cappuccino?
DICK: Latte.
DOC: Course.
DICK: Thanks.
POURING OF COFFEE, CLINK OF SPOON.
DOC: Here you are.
DICK: Tah, Doc.
DOC: If you look at the decomposed organs....
SIPPING OF COFFEE.
Particularly the liver...
MORE SIPPING.
Not too strong?
DICK: Nah, just right thanks. Oh yeah, it looks eaten.
DOC: Presumably fish. The left kidney seems to be missing. Scone?
DICK: Gone?
DOC: No, scone. Would you like a scone with your coffee?
DICK: Thanks Doc!
DOC: And the intestines, well... cream?
DICK: Ah, yes please. Any jam?
DOC: Let me see.
A COUPLE OF JARS BEING MOVED IN A CUPBOARD.
DOC: Raspberry?
DICK: Lovely. Cause of death?
DOC: Yes, I think that is easy to determine. A gunshot blast to the back of
the head at very, very close range.
SIPPING.
DICK: Explains the decapitation. Is this a mocha blend, Doc?
DOC: Very astute, Dick. Oh careful, you got some on you...
DICK: Jam?
DOC: No...
FINGERS ON MATERIAL SCRATCHING A LITTLE.
DOC: I've got it.
LICKING FINGERS.
DICK: Anything else? A fish finger perhaps?
DOC: No. But using this analyser, we can pick up minute traces of crumbs
and cod in the ear.
DICK: Rear?
DOC: Ear.
DICK: Right…anything else?
DOC: Well yes. It's a question of mousse…
DICK: Trampled by?
DOC: No. Chocolate or coffee?
DICK: Chocolate, thanks Doc. You can't beat a classic.
DOC: Lovely.
THEME PLAYING UNDER:
DICK: At 5:05 and one kilo heavier, I left the Doc. Who could possibly be
perpetrating this style of murder? Would they strike again before
Christmas? Was Doc going to make his famous eggnog? Only time
could tell and she was as tight lipped as a baby with broccoli.
THEME OUT.
END
Copyright by Mike Jones and Iley Jones