Cuff Em

It was 3:15pm, and the forecast didn't look good, and Dick had forgotten his umbrella. Not fatal to the case at hand, but enough of an annoyance while wading through the list of suspects. Slowly or Quickly,  narrowing them down, leading to an arrest. Hopefully. But who would be so brazen as to commit these heinous crimes? Who would dare use fish in such a way that defiles the human body? Who could lead Dick on this wild goose chase and not be able to own an iPhone because villains can't have iPhones in the media? Listen on. Or don't. It's up to you, really. 

 

What is Dick Clever?

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 Fifteen, Cuff Em)

THEME/ JAZZ HORN PLAYING UNDERNEATH:

DICK: It was 3:15pm and the forecast didn't look good and I'd forgotten my
umbrella. It was a neat umbrella with a handle made of real plastic,
none of that imitation crap. Adhere had just admitted to being a client
of Red Tinkles, Urologist to the Stars.

THEME OUT.

But how could you afford his consultation fees, Adhere?

ADHERE: I sold my body for sinful activities.

DICK: Medical testing, eh?

ADHERE: Yes and my mother would be so ashamed.

DICK: One more question. Where were you when the Lemming took
the jump?

ADHERE: Why I was next to you.

DICK: And so you were. Come on Petra, we have our suspect just within our
grasp.

JAZZ HORN PLAYING UNDERNEATH:

It was 5:15 pm and the net was closing. We high-tailed it to Cecil
Lardbottom's house to speak with the butler, Butler.

KNOCKING ON DOOR. THEN DOOR OPENING.

BUTLER: Ah, Detective Clever, Miss Petra, I take it you are after Mr.
Lardbottom?

DICK: Actually no. I need to know one thing, from you.

MENACING CHORD.

BUTLER: I’m not sure how I can help.

DICK: Two evenings ago you were polishing the knobs on the front door of
the house.

BUTLER: Why yes.

DICK: Using a small rodent and beeswax.

BUTLER: Good god, you're good. It gives the best shine.

DICK: And in doing so, you left the door open.

BUTLER: Only for a moment.

DICK: But that was enough.

BUTLER: I feel so dirty.

DICK: Come on Petra, it is all coming together like a Swedish picnic in spring.

BUTLER: I miss those days.

RUNNING FEET.

DICK: Can't this car go any faster?

PETRA: Here I'll put on the overdrive.

FEET QUICKEN.

DICK: Here, stop here.

CAR DOORS OPEN

Just in here.

DOOR BURST OPEN.

Don't move, Regina.

REGINA: Why Dick, why not ring the doorbell?

DICK: No time. Let me paint a little picture for you.

REGINA: Portrait or landscape? I'm not posing nude again.

DICK: For crying out loud, it’s just an expression! Anyway, It didn't make
sense until it all made sense. Firstly, Larry the Lemming was pushed.

REGINA: Was he?

DICK: You know he was. Because you were behind the pushing. Larry was
indeed the rat that was spilling the beans about the Mercutio Murders,
but that wasn't it, was it? That crumb on the tong was not from a cod piece
but from a red herring!

GENTLE SUSPENFUL TINKLING ON PIANO.

REGINA: I don't understand.

DICK: Larry was drawing me to the tongs because it was the sauce.

PETRA: The beginning?

DICK: No. Tongs for a barbecue, barbecue means meat and meat needs
sauce. Lots of tomato. And who's ripe and red around here, eh
Regina?

REGINA: Is that some sort of riddle?

DICK: And poor Red Tinkles, Urologist to the Stars. He couldn't fix your little
problem because you weren't there to see him for your own problem
but for his little problem. He couldn't resist a loose woman and you
couldn't resist his loose wallet. So you wooed him only to find out that
he was cheating on you with a man. Your own brother.

PETRA: The body in the bay?

DICK: That's right. So now you are seen leaving the scene of the crime and
confronted by your jealous lover Larry the Lemming's brother,
Garry the Gerbil, whom you dispatched with equal callousness.

PETRA: The body in the alley or the body by the dock?

DICK: It was both, he was schizophrenic.

GENTLE SUSPENSFUL TINKLING ON PIANO.

But then to throw me off the scent, whilst passing the door of Mr
Cecil Lardbottom, Butler the butler was out front and left the door
slightly ajar. Through that door, you saw the unforgettable sight of Mr
Lardbottom dancing in his thong.

MENACING CHORDS AND A SCREAM.

And knowing that Pierre would already be implicated by the fact that
you used his fish fingers in every murder, that Ipso Facto and ooh lala
Cecil Longbottom would become our prime mover and shaker.

PETRA: He’s really not a good dancer.

REGINA: Great singer though. He can really hit those…

DICK: Focus! So, Regina, are you going to come clean or are we going to
have to get real evidence?

REGINA: (SOBS) Okay, okay. I admit it. It was me! I am the Cod Piece Murderer.
I killed for love I tell you. It was all for love.

DICK: Can only wonder what you'd do for hate. Cuff her Petra and take her
down to the station.

CUFFS BEING PLACED.

REGINA: But tell me, Dick, how did you know?

DICK: It was Red Tinkles' murder which gave it away. That fish finger was
thrust up the nose of Red in a twisting action like this

GENTLE SUSPENSUL TINKLING ON PIANO.

and only a left-handed person could have done this.

REGINA: But I'm right-handed.

DICK: Or a right-handed person standing behind Red.

REGINA: Damn, you're good.

DICK: Take her away, Petra.

PEOPLE MOVING OUT. JAZZ HORN PLAYS UNDERNEATH:

8:23 and the neon light shone through the bent venetian blinds across
my desk. I had been lucky, but only because of fate. I lifted a whisky to
my parched lips and took a swig.

SWIGG. JAZZ HORN OUT. PHONE RING.

Come in.

PETRA: Well. Great outcome Detective Dick.

DICK: Thank you Petra. Time you went home.

PETRA: Actually, I have some unfinished business with the case.

DICK: Really?

PETRA: I still have to frisk Pierre.

DICK: But we have the murderer.

PETRA: I know!

THEME IN AN OUT.

END

Copyright by Mike Jones and Iley Jones