806. Chapter 806

After Murder Most Fowl

Episode 3.08

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I can't escape the fact that I don't own Castle. Rating: K Time: See above.

"Chickens?" Beckett said, disbelievingly.

"Chickens." Montgomery replied.

"Chickens." Castle said, looking puzzled.

"Chickens!" Montgomery repeated, beginning to look annoyed.

"Sir, we're homicide and…."

Montgomery cut her off. "There was a robbery last night at La Petite Chookery. It's an Australian-French fusion restaurant that specialized in omelets. Their prize laying hens were stolen and the janitor, the only one there, was killed. Hence, the chickennapping and murder is ours."

Rick and Kate went back to the murder board where the information they had gotten from the uniforms who were first on the scene and the CSU team were already posted.

"There's not much here." Rick said.

"There never is at the start of the murder." Kate said.

"But it's an interesting case. The first case of chicken rustling in New York City. I wonder if they ever have this sort of thing happen in Texas?"

"Really?" She smiled, but turned away from him. "You wonder about those sort of things?"

"We should be looking for a chickenboy. He's probably riding a rather small horse and carrying a running iron."

"A running iron?" She asked, her brow furrowing.

"You know what a branding iron is, don't you?"

She nodded. "Yes, I've seen enough Western movies to know about branding irons. But what's a running iron?"

"It's just a length of iron or steel rod. You heat it to red hot, like a branding iron, then you can change a brand or make a new one, freehand, on the cow. If someone catches you with the cows, they can't prove the cattle are theirs because the cows no longer have their brand on them. But, back in the day, if you were caught by a rancher with a running iron, he'd hang you from the nearest tree."

"Have you ever seen a chicken that had been branded?" Kate asked, almost seriously.

"No, but they have to get cooked somehow."

"I think we should go to La Petite Chookery and see what they have to say."

The owners of La Petite Chookery were quite different. John Mason was a tall, tanned and very voluble Australian. He lived by the saying that one should never eat anything made by a skinny chef. He made sure he never got skinny. Even a bit. Marie Le Beau was his partner, and almost a caricature of a French woman. Tall, slender, with long curly dark hair and a very nice body. She made sure that everyone noticed her body by wearing a miniskirt and a blouse that was half way unbuttoned. She was the business half of the partnership, while Mason was the chef.

Mason rushed to Kate. "Bloody hell, Constable! You have to get my girls back! Little Judy and Kim and Donna and Mary Beth and…."

"Wait! I thought that only chickens were stolen." Kate said.

"Only chooks? Only chooks? My girls were the finest bloody laying hens on the planet. I've been breeding them for years and I finally got perfection. Absolute perfection. You should have seen the eggs they laid. Not just perfect to look at, but the tastiest omelets ever made came from those eggs. They were priceless. And now some bastard has 'em."

Marie grabbed Rick and pushed her body against his. "It is most true, Detective Castle. Without these chickens and their eggs, we are desolated. Bankrupt. You must help me." She rubbed her boobs back and forth across Castle's chest. "I know of your many exploits from the television. I know you are the only one who can help me. I will do anything to help you."

Castle tried to back away from her, but she had both arms locked around his neck. "Really, I'm just a novelist shadowing Detective Beckett. You should ask for her help."

Marie looked contemptuously at Beckett. "No, it is you I want, Detective Castle. You will take me into my private office now and interrogate me. Alone. You will be brutal, I know." She tried to drag Castle to her office, but found he was very strong.

Beckett was both amused and upset about how Marie Le Beau was treating Castle. Then she found Mason's hand on her arm. "God, but you're a bloody gorgeous Sheila. A bit skinny, but that can be fixed. I'd love to rub melted butter all over your body, then cream cheese and some aoli. I would brown some kielbasa and cut it into small pieces with I would place reverently on your body between your…."

Kate put her hand on his chest and backed away. "Mr. Mason, I'm on duty."

"We both are." Castle said desperately while dragging Marie around the kitchen while she tried to pull him to her office. He came to a sudden stop when he backed into Beckett.

She was blocked behind by Castle and had Mason bearing down on her. Then she had an idea. She grabbed Marie's arm and pulled her off Castle. "And don't you dare touch my boyfriend."

Castle quickly caught on. He turned on Mason. "And don't mess with my woman, tall, dark and overfed."

"Now if you will excuse us, we are both going to interrogate you right here." Beckett pulled out her notebook and began asking questions.

Having interrogated all of the cooks, waiters and other staff, the two finally left La Petite Chookery. Rick turned to Beckett. "Thanks for saving me back there." He waited a beat and added, "Sweetie." He gave her a smile.

"Oh, you're welcome. And thank you, Kitten."

Castle frowned and then laughed. "Just this once, okay?"

Two days later they came back to La Petite Chookery to talk to Mason and Le Beau. Castle happily let Beckett take the lead.

"Both Mr. Castle and I were wondering why you both were so interested in establishing a very personal relationship with us, so we checked into your backgrounds. You, Ms. Le Beau have had a lot of problems in the past with unwanted advances to men and women, both here and in Europe."

Ms. Le Beau looked upset. "Unwanted? But who would not want me? Perhaps you and your oh so handsome boyfriend would care to join me, I could show you how I will make you want me." She began to approach Beckett who pushed her away.

"Ms. Le Beau, to put it simply, you're a nymphomaniac."

"But I have much fun, no?"

"You, Mr. Mason have also had troubles. You really have no business sense. Every restaurant you've ever worked for or owned has gone under because you insist on the very best ingredients, and if everything isn't absolutely perfect, you throw the food away and begin again. Sometimes over and over again."

"I am an artist, not some wretched bean counter like her! She has no soul."

"I have a soul, Richard. Come with me and I'll show you how to find it." Marie again began dragging Castle away.

"You have no proof of anything." Mason said, smiling.

"We got a search warrant for your apartment after your neighbors complained of the noise from the chickens. You're under arrest for murder. You intended to run out on your partnership with Ms. Le Beau but needed to grab your chickens first."

As Beckett was cuffing him and reading him his rights, she glared at Le Beau. "And if you ever touch my man again, you'll walk funny for a week."

"You bet." Castle said, smiling.

Author's note: My grandparents owned a cattle ranch on the Russian River in Northern California. One of the things my father inherited from them was a long steel rod which I later found looked a lot like a running iron. Must have been a coincidence.