[ WP ] A literal murder of crows

`` What do we got, Jim?'' asked Detective Murray. The question had become so routine that the sentence congealed into a single word -- `` whaddoowegahggim.'' 
 
 `` Mass shooting. Nasty shit, Ed,'' said Smith, his partner, who had arrived on the scene ten minutes earlier. 
 
 `` Walk me through it.'' 
 
 Detective Smith led Murray over to a dead crow lying in the dirt. Its legs were curled up, its left wing was blown apart, and a single chunk of half-chewed wheat hung out of its beak. A small pool of blood had formed on the ground beneath the corpse. 
 
 `` Few kids were having a picnic when our guy opened up on'em. Poor bastard here was shot takin' a bite out of his sandwich. Shooter wasted him from a distance; poor fuck never had a chance.'' 
 
 `` We got a name?'' 
 
 `` No ID on him or any of the others.'' 
 
 `` Show me.'' 
 
 Detective Smith walked to the second body, and Murray followed. This victim was lying on her side, her head mutilated by the round that had entered it. Blood had poured out of her shattered scalp and leaked out of what was left of her beak. A heap of vomit lay on the dirt behind the corpse. 
 
 `` Fuckin' beat cop puked real good when he saw the DB,'' Smith explained. `` Rookie never seen a head blown apart before.'' 
 
 `` Rook, eh? You pull a Caruso on him?'' 
 
 `` Yeah, I did. Told him'' -- and for a moment, Smith's voice dropped low in imitation of the *CSI* actor -- ``'I guess she... got her head blown off by a goddamned psycho.' Never been good at puns.'' 
 
 `` How many more bodies?'' 
 
 `` One more. Follow me.'' 
 
 The two detectives approached the last body -- by far the most gruesome kill of the three. The corpse was peppered with bulletholes, and surrounded by flung chunks of its own skin, bone, and feathers. 
 
 `` Shooter popped the kid once from a distance, then walked up and shot him nine times at point-blank range.'' 
 
 `` Think it was someone they knew?'' 
 
 `` Maybe our guy had it out for them. Hell, maybe he was just fuckin' nuts. Crime boys're gon na run the shell casings and get us an answer. All we can do in the meantime's canvas the neighborhood, see if anyone saw anything.''
