The Clearing, by Frederick Highland. PART I: The Witnesses

PART I - THE WITNESSES

The Bird: White Pelican

AN OLD FISHERMAN REPORTS TO THE MAGISTRATE

There was such a great commotion at the edge of the reeds, sounds of struggle and screeching and such, that I stopped hauling in my nets and headed for Hawker's Creek. Actually it was close to lunch time, come to think of it, about noon on Tuesday.

Now Hawker's is one of those creeks that feed into the estuary so it's surrounded with reeds and has a very muddy bank. When I came to a clearing along the bank, I could see there had been a fight. Feathers were scattered everywhere, many black and gray ones, but some were blue. Clumps of those funny kiwi feathers were being blown about too, for a stiff salty breeze had just kicked in from the bay.

There were a footprints all over the place. There were kiwi prints, maybe two or three birds, and one set of prints was larger than the others. It was clear a predator had been there too, claw marks with sharp talons, and there was another set of prints too, big flatfooted ones, not familiar to me. Not a waterfowl, a stranger to the marshes if you ask me.

Then there was the blood-- big, bright drops of it, especially at the very edge of the creek bank. I was getting ready to go and report this matter to the police when I saw some movement in the reeds. Whoever it was took off when I looked up. I didn't see much, just a flash of red and blue color. Then the fellow was gone. That's when I saw the body of this young kiwi soldier bobbing face down in the water, a red stain surrounding this wound in his back.

The Birds: Water Turkeys

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THE NEIGHBORS

-- They were really a couple of cute kiwis. Kids really.

-- Not water people like us, but nice folks just the same. We often saw them pecking about at the edge of the reeds, looking for grubs and such. Must have been newlyweds, that's my guess. At least they were new to the neighborhood.

-- They seemed to be headed someplace important when I last saw them-- oh that was on Tuesday, late morning, your honor. I mean the girl was all prettied up, had on some kind veil, mauve I think, like she was going to a party or something. I'd say they were headed in the direction of Hawker's Creek, skirting the reeds. They seemed to be in a big hurry too.

-- They were billing and cooing as they scurried along, a little scandalous if you know what I mean, right out there in the open, I mean in public and all.

-- Don't mind my wife, your honor. She's a prude. They were just acting like a couple of kids in love, that's all. So they were sweet on each other!

-- Not so sweet they didn't have their differences. I almost called the police last week they were making such a racket. I don't know what they argued about, but I think she was trying to get a job and he didn't want her to leave the house. She had applied as a cocktail waitress at this nightclub-- The Feathers? At least that's what I heard. She used to work as a dancer down at the Birdhouse when he met her. Guess he was trying to keep her out of that element, if you know what I mean. I can't say for certain, of course, it's just that I heard a few things here and there. Of course, the girl's mother was threatening to move in, and that bit of news might have sparked things off. Not that I know much about it, your honor. Seems she charges a lot of stuff at Bon Twitters Boutique. Now, I know the husband was pretty steamed up about that. You could hear that argument all over the neighborhood . . . .

-- Like you say, your honor. We'll step right down for the next witness.


TWO POLICE OFFICERS Officer Hoot and I apprehended Fish Hawk here about 2 PM on Tuesday, you honor. We've been trying to catch up with him for some time. He could be hanged a dozen times over for the murders he's done-- all females, your honor.	The Birds: Great Horned Owls large JPEG

That old fisherman over there called us to the crime scene. We spotted Fishy's tracks right away and followed them. We found him sleeping it off at the spillway where Hawker's Creek empties into the estuary. Seems he bought a bottle of hooch to celebrate his crime. You could hear his snores all over the place, so it wasn't hard to locate him. He put up a pretty stiff fight, considering he was drunk and all, but Officer Hoot cold-cocked him with his nightstick and the bird went limp.

We've got two pieces of evidence linking him to the kiwi disappearance. One is this purple scarf he was wearing about his neck. The other is this wristwatch, your honor. Fish hawk was wearing it on his leg when we found him. You can see the inscription there.

"To Lovey Dovey with Big Smoochers, From Your Honey."

We caught him cold, your honor. This bird has had it. As long as the district attorney doesn't screw things up with a plea bargain!

NEXT: THE CONFESSIONS!