What The Duck

“Did you fix the blender while in port, Paco?” Captain Rory adjusted his mirrored sunglasses, although it was a cloudy day. He was impeccably dressed in a white sailor’s uniform with his blond hair trimmed neatly. “We’ve a filthy rich family coming aboard the yacht and I’ve heard Mrs. Parker is a heavy drinker.  Paco?”

“No entiendo.” His only crewman stood there in his blue uniform, with matching beret. He was also the ship’s chef and mechanic.

“Seriously? Batidora! Blender! That was important, Paco. Well, too late now. I can hear our passengers coming up the gangplank.” The captain grasped the rail and guided himself to the top of the walkway. 

The first person to climb aboard was a middle-aged gentleman with salt and pepper-colored hair. When Captain Rory extended his hand the man shook it. “I’m Winston Parker and this here’s my wife, Margaret, along with her mother, Mildred.” 

“I’m assuming we’ll be eating soon? I love a good fudge marble cake.” the older of the two women said while the younger, much larger one, staggered by hiccuping.  

“Ah, and this pretty young lady is my niece, Charlemagne.” Winston introduced a shapely black-haired beauty in her mid-twenties. “Following her is my son, Teddy.”

“Rubber ducky bitch!” the twenty-year-old blurted out.  

The nerdy young man wore black-rimmed bifocals and held a small purple rubber ducky in his hand that wore a tiny red silk cape and had large diamonds for eyes. Teddy was outfitted in a red and white striped t-shirt and brown corduroy shorts that ran down to his knees.  

“Ignore him, good Captain. “He has regrets.”

“Tourette’s, Uncle,” Charlemagne corrected the man.

“Exactly. Potty mouth eruptions and such. The last fellow coming aboard is my attorney, William Jack. He goes everywhere I go.” Winston steered the pot-bellied litigator towards the vessel commander, whispering, “Keep your hand on your wallet, Captain.” 

The portly bald lawyer shot his hand out near where Captain Rory’s hand was still extended. “Put her there, ferry-master.”

“I’m neither!” Rory frowned while his hand searched about but failed to find William Jack’s. 

“My God, man, are you blind?” Winston grimaced.

“Why yes, I am.” Captain Rory raised his shades revealing his completely white film-covered eyes. “But no worries, these modern day vessels navigate themselves and do practically everything, including docking.”

“A blind boat captain? Never heard of such a thing. Why, that’s as rare as a fat man on Star Trek!”

Attorney Jack scratched his hairless scalp. “How could this have possibly happened?”

“Strong union.” Captain Rory smiled. 

“Well, beggars can’t be boozers, as they say!” Winston shrugged, causing his niece to shake her head. 

The others nodded their understanding and were led by Crewman Paco to their quarters. 

Once the Parker family members were settled in and the vessel was underway, Captain Rory was finally able to relax. Being the world’s first blind sea captain might seem easy, but was actually quite stressful. He had to rely on his other finely-tuned senses to help him. 

The twenty-one day Atlantic crossing started out smoothly. That was until nine days into the voyage, when a scream from deep within the ship woke Rory from a peaceful slumber. 

The captain’s superior hearing quickly guided him to the Stateroom Suite. He could hear others in the room, including someone sobbing. “What’s the ruckus?” 

“It’s just awful!” Charlemagne, the source of the crying, sniffed. “Aunt Margaret’s dead! I found her there on the couch.”

“Dead you say? Who else’s in the room?”  

“Just me, Winston. Perhaps she’s choked. Quick, Captain, give her the teriyaki!”

“The what?”

“He means a tracheotomy.” Charlemagne sighed. “But that won’t help. From the looks of things, she’s been dead for hours. I guess the only thing we can do at this point . . .  is read the will.”

“What? Read the will? We literally just found the body.” Rory was surprised.  

“I know. Odd, but that’s exactly what she’d have wanted.” Charlemagne let out a long forced sob.  

“Ducky fart whore!” announced that Teddy had entered the stateroom.  

“Ducky fart whore. Ducky fart whore!”

“Okay, Teddy relax. Momma's just sleeping.” Winston lied, trying to calm the excited boy. “He’s just riled up because he doesn’t have his rubber ducky. Where’s your purple diamond duck, Teddy?”

“Ducky sharts! Ducky sharts!” The boy was clearly agitated. “Messy squirts! Messy squirts!”

“What’s all this noise about?” The family attorney walked in with Grandma Parker on his heels. “Oh mercy! Is she . . . deceased?”

Well, the whole gang is here,” Winston mumbled. “Guess you folks have never heard that too many cooks spoil the sloth.”

“Yes, unfortunately Mrs. Parker’s dead.” Captain Rory decided it best to ignore the oldest Parker’s nonsense. Rory stretched out his hand which held a glass. “Here, William Jack. Would you mind holding my Tom Collins while we go over the scene.”

“My God man! You’re actually drinking while piloting the boat?” Attorney Jack frowned in disappointment. 

“Oh come on, I’m blind. It’s not like I’m actually at the helm.”  Captain Rory waved his hands dramatically while facing Winston, even though the comment was clearly meant for the solicitor. “Now,  as the leading official on this boat, which is now halfway between the US and England, I’m going to have to conduct an investigation.”  

“But you’re blind.” Winston reminded the sightless man, just in case it had slipped his mind in the last five seconds. 

“Exactly why I’m the best man for the job.” Rory nodded knowingly without bothering to explain further. “Now, Attorney Jack, describe to me the scene in perfect detail.”

“Hmm. . . well, okay.  Margaret is laying on the main couch with her eyes rolled back up into her head. Her mouth is open and her tongue’s protruding. Her legs are kicked out with one shoe on and the other laying three feet away.  She’s wearing white see-through nylons that go all the way up her plump tender thighs. Those giant mammoth bosoms—-“

“Mr. Jack, that’s a little too much detail. Now what about the rest of the room?”

“Yes, directly in front of the couch one of the two matching chairs is lying on its side. Margaret was a prominent woman at four hundred pounds. It looks like she might have knocked the chair over when she fell onto the couch.”

“It looks like she had a visitor. Anything else of interest?” Rory tried to keep the man focused. 

“Not really, although I find it odd she’s still holding a half-empty margarita glass in her hand.”

“Bahama Drama,” Winston broke in. 

“Beg your pardon?” Rory needed clarification. 

“It’s a Bahama Mama. Last month Aunt Margie was into Margaritas. This month it’s Bahama Mamas.” Charlemagne made a show of wiping non-existent tears from her checks, a move wasted on Rory. 

Paco entered the room and gasped . . . in Spanish.  

“Oh good. Crewman Paco, grab a cloth and bring me that drink. Make sure you don’t leave any of your prints on the glass.” The captain was sure the drink was a clue. 

“No entiendo.”  

“Oh brother, I’ll get it.” Attorney William Jack went over and retrieved the drink, bringing the glass to the blind man.

“Hold it under my nose.”  After a deep whiff, Rory frowned. “Rum. Pineapple juice. Orange juice. Coconut. A hint of grenadine syrup. Crushed ice . . . and a strong smell of . . . almonds.” 

“Almonds?” Charlemagne frowned. “There are no almonds in a Bahama Mama.”  

“Clearly it’s a Margarita then.” Winston nodded unknowingly.

“No. From the smell of it, it’s definitely a Bahama Mama. So the smell of almonds can only mean one thing.” The good captain raised his eyebrows for affect. “Arsenic poisoning. It gives off the distinct smell of almonds.” 

“Poisoning? Why would my wife drink poison?”  

“I believe somebody slipped it into her drink, giving us a case of . . . cold-blooded murder!” Rory tried to point at each of them, although his finger was actually pointing at pictures, a vase, some furniture, and even the ceiling. “Making each and every one of you suspects.”

“Us? What about you?” Attorney William Jack fired back.  

“Clearly, I’m not a suspect, mainly because I didn’t do it.” The captain shook his head up and down to validate his claim.  

“So what now, Captain?” Charlemagne shrugged. “I, for one, suggest we take this sad moment and grieve over the will.”  

“No. As the only authority here, deep in international waters, I shall study everything with keen observation. Mrs. Parker’s body will remain where it is until we get to England. Until then, I’ll conduct interviews with each of you separately.”

“To what end?” The attorney frowned. 

“This murder will be solved. We aren’t in London after all!” 

“Rubber ducky ball sack!”

“Surely you won’t be interviewing Teddy. He’s artistic.” 

“You mean the boy can draw?” Rory cocked his head skeptically. as if he were scrutinizing the boy, although he was actually looking in the opposite direction of Teddy.

“My uncle means autistic," Charlemagne corrected Winston.  

“Exactly.” The older man smirked in satisfaction. “Not to mention he has ass boogers.”

“Ass what?” Rory scratched his head.  

“Asperger’s. Teddy has trouble speaking with people,” Charlemagne explained.  

“You’ve been very quiet, Grandma Parker. Anything you’d like to add?” Rory hadn’t heard the old woman speak since she had entered the room.  

“No. I was just thinking how much I would enjoy Bananas Foster right now.” The old lady smacked her lips together. 

“Okay then. Crewman Paco, escort these folks to their rooms and keep them separate until I have interviewed them,” Captain Rory ordered. 

“No entiendo.” The Hispanic man shrugged.  

“Oh, for crying out lard.” Winston frowned. “We can find our own rooms.“

Charlemagne started to correct her uncle, then seemingly giving up, turned and left the room. The others followed her.  

The blind captain stood silently for several minutes in the Stateroom Suite.  "There’s nothing like the smell of murder on the high seas." Once he finished his aromatic inspection, he went to his office. A short time later, Paco brought Winston Parker to him.

“I hope you don’t mind I’m speaking with you first?” Rory chose him, hoping to get a solid grasp on the family’s history. 

“Better late than Trevor.” Winston nodded. 

“Come on, man, that doesn’t even make any sense at all.” Captain Rory shook his head in disdain. “Even if you had said it correctly, it wouldn’t have fit the situation.”

"I live in England man, of course my English is failing. Have you heard them speak? I'm not even sure where they learned our American language." The older man frowned.

 Captain Rory shook his head and sighed. "Could we just get back to the interview?"

“Look, I’ll answer any questions you ask, as long as you leave my artistic ass booger son with regrets out of this. He’s already been through too much.” Winston looked like he meant it.  

“Understood. First, let me ask about your company.” Rory figured that was a good place to start. 

“Of course, I expected you to go there. But, it wasn’t just Margaret and my company. We shared ownership with my brother Grayson Parker, until his untimely death in a car accident.”

“Oh my gosh! Really? Parker brothers? Is that your company? Parker Brothers games?” Rory raised his eyebrows in his customary manner, excited at the prospect. 

“Oh, no man, nothing as silly and mundane as that. My family owns Duckies Unlimited International.” Winston grinned proudly. “D.U.I. for short. Catchy isn’t it?”

“Huh?” 

“We make high end fashionable rubber ducks for the bathtub and such.” 

“Huh?”

“Yes. Like the purple diamond-eyed one Teddy usually carries around. That product line was our first ‘million dollar’ sales duck. D.U.I. is now a multi-million dollar business. In fact, that’s what we were doing in Toronto.”

“Rubber duckies?”  Rory was more than a little suspicious. 

“No, rubber ducky actually. Just one. We provided the giant rubber ducky they used in their Waterfront Festival.”

“Giant ducky?” 

“Yes, didn’t you see . . . er . . . hear about her on the news? Mama Ducky? She’s more than six stories high, 79 feet wide, 80 feet long, and weighs over 30,000 pounds. We created her and wanted to see our product in action, so we came across the pond for a D.U.I. holiday.”  

“You we're all born in America?”

“Yes. We fled the states ahead of the Trump verses Biden, round two apocalypse. We barely survived the first round. It reminded me of the Christmas when my two ninety-year-old grandpas fought over a fruitcake that nobody wanted. Two geriatric zombies gumming and slobbering all over the place. They started swatting at each other with their AARP pamphlets. Depends and Centrum Silvers were flying everywhere. Don’t get me started.”

“Let’s get back to your brother. He was killed in an auto accident?”

“Yes, oddest thing. Brakes failed on his brand new Porsche. He had literally picked it up from the dealership the day before. Damn those freak accidents.”

“And now your wife’s dead.” Rory raised his eyebrows after the open-ended question. 

“I know what you’re inseminating.” Winston scowled angrily. 

“I think you mean insinuating?” 

“Exactly! You’re accusing me of having motion.” 

“You mean motive?”

“Exactly, man. Are you saying I had reason to do this? Because I don’t see it. Why, just 27 months ago Margaret and I had relations. Of the physical nature. If that doesn’t demote love, then I don’t know what does.”

“I think you mean denote love.” Captain Rory raised his eyebrows again, this time in consternation at the man's constant mistakes. “So why’d you and your wife have separate rooms?”

“She snores like a freight train blowing its horn through a poor neighborhood at midnight.” Winston shrugged. 

“Okay. Well, back to my point. I was merely pointing out that you’re now the sole owner of a multi-million dollar corporation. Which you yourself pointed out.”  

“That’s exactly right!”  Winston tossed a document on the captain’s desk. “It’s Margaret’s will. She’s left me everything. That should help ease your suspicious mind and end these ridiculous implications.”

A couple minutes later, Paco led Grandmother Mildred into Rory’s office. The frail old lady smiled politely and answered all of his questions. He ended with,” Do you have any questions of your own, Mildred?”

“Yes, will we be having upside down cake after dinner?”

The old woman was immediately followed by Teddy. Rory couldn’t get much more than odd and perverted exclamations about rubber ducks and requests for smoothies. One particularly nasty outburst included both. The boy seemed to be off his rocker.   

Five minutes later, the beautiful Charlemagne entered the room. He took a deep whiff of her delicious perfume.  

“What’s that enchanting fragrance?”

“Sea Captain’s Pleasure." She took a seat. “Shouldn’t you search me first, Captain? In case I’m hiding a weapon . . . or in case you are?”

“Business before sea captain’s pleasure.” Rory nervously cleared his throat. “So, why so much interest in seeing your aunt’s will?”

“When my daddy, Grayson died, he left me nothing. Everything went to the company.” Rory could hear a hint of pout in her voice. “Aunt Margie thought it was wrong and promised to leave me her half of the company when she died.”

“So you had motive?”

“Seriously? Did you see her? She was a walking heart attack. She was one Hostess Ding Dong away from a full blown widow-maker. It was only a matter of time.”

Rory shook his head at her coldness. He had no intention of telling her about the will. They were too far out at sea to weather that storm. “Well, I've no further questions.”

Charlemagne rose to her feet. “I’m ready for that full-body search, Captain.”

Forty-five minutes later, Paco brought in the family attorney, who spoke first, "Why do I get the feeling you don’t like me much, Captain?” 

“Because I don’t. I follow just a few simple rules in life.” Rory pushed back in his leather chair and folded his hands behind his head. “Never play poker with a man named after a city. Never hold a conversation with a woman named Karen. But most importantly, I never EVER trust a man with two first names, William Jack.”

“Please call me Bill.” The attorney grinned smugly. 

Captain Rory grimaced. “I have my eyes on you, Mr. William Bill Jack. 

“I really don’t think so, Captain,” Bill quipped.  “Besides, I never trust a man who can smell ice.”  

“Look, I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot.” Rory was getting nowhere with the man. 

“Getting off? Oh, I know what you’re thinking. You suspect me because of my sexual relationship with the late Mrs. Parker.”

“Ah, no. I wasn’t thinking that at all. I didn’t even kn—-“

“Look, Captain, I don’t think I like your tone.” William Bill Jack poked Rory in the chest with a pudgy finger. “It wasn’t that big a deal. A small affair really. Sex three times a week for the past five years. We did it in the shower, hot tub, sauna, movie theatre, car wash, doctor’s office, bathroom at the airport, and broke in a few elevators. Oh, yeah, there was also that one time on the back of the city bus. Public transportation isn’t what it used to be. Foul people on there. Anyways, that was it. Well, there was a hardy go on the kitchen table, but it really doesn’t count because the whole thing crashed to the floor before we could finish.“

“I-I-I . .  .”

“Yeah, just keep your filthy thoughts and sleazy insinuations to yourself, pervert.” Jack adjusted his tie and opened the office door to leave. “I told you I was clean. This interview is over. Bother me again and you’ll be hearing from my attorney, which is me.”

Captain Rory shook his head in disbelief as the sleazy lawyer left. He had interviewed all of the suspects and discovered nothing except that they were all looney. 

Deep in the night, Rory lay awake, the case bouncing around in his mind like two midgets in a wrestling ring full of jello. Female of course, because if they were male that would be gay. He carefully climbed from his bed, so as not to disturb Charlemagne. He had cleared her of the murder, the moment she slept with him. The captain made his way back to the Stateroom Suite.

The following morning, the passengers were all seated around the galley table. 

“Did anyone else notice there was no butterscotch pudding at breakfast?” Grandmother Parker pounded her fist on the table. “I don’t understand why there wouldn’t be butterscotch pudding?”

Charlemagne ignored the elderly woman. “Captain Rory better not be wasting our time with more ‘investigation’ nonsense. I think we can all find common ground and agree that we’ve put off reading Aunt Margaret’s will way too long. I mean, it’s been nearly twenty-four hours now. Just atrocious!”

Captain Rory interrupted the pretty girl’s greedy diatribe when he led a hand-cuffed Paco into the room. He had wisely waited for the man to make breakfast, prep lunch, and wash the dishes before making his arrest.  

“Whoa, Captain. Where’d ya get those cuffs?” Attorney Jack questioned, a glint of concern in his eyes while he patted his pockets like he was missing something  

“Ah . . . we transported the Swedish Bikini Team last month and several of them wanted to play ‘Naughty Sea Captain Captures Eager Mermaid.’ I didn’t sleep once during the entire four day journey . . .” Rory’s voice trailed off as he realized the Parker’s had grown awkwardly silent.   

Fortunately, he couldn’t see the entire family staring at him with their mouths hanging wide open. “Anyways, I caught the killer. It was Crewman Paco all along. Case closed.”

“No entiendo.”

“The guy who simply wants a Nintendo did it?  How do you figure?” Winston stared at the captain.  

“He confessed.” Rory smiled.  

“I didn’t confess to murder,” Paco surprisingly spoke in perfect English. “I only admitted to corporate spying for Duckies International Corporation Kentucky.”

“Oh you work for D.I.C.K.s? They’re our number one competitors.” Winston was obviously appalled. 

“Yes, I love D.I.C.K.s. I live and breath D.I. C. K.s. They create a firmer smoother product that lasts longer in the bathtub.” Paco glared at the family. “Besides, they never judged me after I married my sister.” (Let’s take a moment here and let the slower readers catch up as they realize that’s a Kentucky reference. Okay, shall we continue?)

“Dick loving ducky!” Teddy hollered with glee.  

“Anyways, here’s the evidence.” Rory proudly held up a black object.

“Your cellphone?” Paco smirked. 

“Oops, wrong pocket.” Rory held up a second black object with his other hand.

“Oh, my cellphone.” Paco grimaced. “Just because you have proof I love D.I.C.K. doesn’t mean I’m a killer.” 

“Really, Paco? I sent you to get a blender. The one on the ship was broken.” Captain Rory pushed his eyebrows up above the frames of his sunglasses again, in what was quickly becoming annoying to everyone, including those of you reading this story.  

“So?”  

“So, I became suspicious the moment I learned of Mrs. Parker’s final Bahama Mama. It had to have been made in a blender. You must have bought the blender as ordered and hid it.” Rory beamed with pride. “And here’s the case cracker.”

The good captain tossed a blue object onto the table. It was Paco’s beret that accompanied his crewman uniform. “I found it between Mrs. Parker’s legs.”

“What? Why were you searching there?” Attorney Jack was aghast.

“It’s not what you think. I couldn’t sleep last night, feeling that we must have missed a clue. So, I went back and searched the Stateroom Suite thoroughly. I’m blind, so had no idea of where my . . . er . . . hands ended up. That’s when I discovered the beret.”  

Everyone in the room bore a skeptical look.  

“I can explain that beret.” Paco looked nervous now. “You see, I’m into big girls. Margaret’s room was the farthest back in the ship, so I took her there last. She complimented me on my bushy mustache so I complimented her on hers.  One thing led to another and we ended up getting it on.”

“Boinking ducky whore!” signaled Teddy was paying close attention.

“You bonged my wife?” Winston clenched his fists and stood up.  

“Three times. Six for her.” Paco grinned. “But who was counting?”

“I think you meant ‘banged’ your wife,” Winston’s attorney corrected.  

You can bang, boink or donk a woman, but bonging a woman isn’t a thing. You bong drugs.” Rory felt the need to clear up the muddy waters. 

“Can you boink or donk drugs?” Charlemagne looked confused.  

“No, of course not.” Captain Rory frowned. “The point I was trying to make is you can’t bong a woman.”

“Exactly!” Winston sat, confused about. . . pretty much everything. “Duckies Unlimited International is going to sue your D.I.C.K. and when we’re done, I will own your D.I.C.K. after riding it into the dirt, Paco.”

Several days later, Scotland Yard officers arrived at the dock and boarded The Captain Sees All. They took Paco away in shackles.  

After they removed the corpse and wrapped up the scene, the lead investigator walked over to Rory and handed him a small rubber ducky. The blind man could feel that it wore a silk cape and had rock hard eyes. “We found this in the Stateroom Suite.”

“I searched that room, thoroughly. Where was it?” Rory sniffed the ducky for further clues.  

“It was actually lodged deep into Mrs. Parker’s butt crack. She must have landed on it when she fell.” Rory thought it smart to stop smelling the duck after the man’s comment.  

Meanwhile, deep in the belly of the ship where nobody could hear, the sound of a blender hummed, while mixing a much loved smoothie. 

First I cut Uncle Grayson’s brake lines.Then a pinch of arsenic in mother’s drink finished her. Next will be father. After that, I’ll inherit Duckies Unlimited International.

Teddy smiled.