Don't Cage The Birdie (Book 2)(rough first draft)

Chapter 7. Friendly neighbours

Brewster fumed in the back seat and James smiled inwardly at the man's discomfort. It was so simple and the man just could not figure it out. Maybe the hit to the head yesterday had actually caused some damage if that was the case.

They arrived at Syracuse in short time and Ming pulled into the driveway of the house at 47 Marple Street. James stepped out and looked around at the property. Now that it was empty of police vans and private cars he could see the street better. It was different now. And something was out of place. He couldn't quite put his finger on it and then Brewster spoke up.

'I can't get it. What was the relevance?' he demanded, rubbing the back of his head. Ming looked on, casting his eyes between James and Brewster.

'Locke's car is in the shop. Has been since Monday. Yesterday was Tuesday,' explained James and left it at that. He looked around the property and still couldn't place what he couldn't see.

'Talk amongst yourselves,' he said. 'See if you can get it. If you do, come and fine me.'

He left the two of them to talk amongst themselves and entered the house. Compared to yesterday it was empty. At least of people. Claudia's belongings still stood where they lived and James wondered for how much longer they would stay there. He was surprised forensics hadn't cleaned the house already and packed everything up for further examination. And at some point Claudia's family would be in contact to take her things away and Nigel Mole would want the house back. But that would be some time in the future that James knew not when. He would also have to speak to Claudia's parents. The Office had been in contact with them and they had already been told that seeing their daughter was not going to be an option, or an easy experience if they demanded to see her and got their way.

Absently James wandered through the house, looking at the emptiness of the home. There were few personal possessions around the place. Not like his home that had a picture of his time at cadets, his police graduation certificate, a framed clipping of Teddy's first case, plus a baseball he had caught accidentally when it had flown out of the field and landed by his feet as he walked past. Things that just had a personal feel to them that made you feel something when you saw them and set the feel for home.

Claudia's house had nothing. There were no pictures of herself or Marjorie on the walls or any of her family, even though James knew she had her parents and one older sister. There were no framed photos of her achievements or personal effects that told James who she was, what she liked and what she wanted out of life. The house was just soulless. Like a shell. A way point. Perhaps that was what it was, really. Her life with Dean Locke had gone down hill and this was a place to stay until she got back on her feet and could begin anew. Perhaps there was nothing in her old life she wanted to be reminded of.

Somehow without thinking James had completed a full circuit of the house and found himself back in the driving. Brewster and Ming were gone and he didn't know where they were, but that was fine. His ability to think was better without them. He crossed the pathway between number 47 and 45 and walked up to the door of 45 and rang the door bell again. This time he heard footsteps inside and a voice call out, 'Be there shortly.' A minute or so later the door opened.

A middle aged man in a white blazer and matching pants opened the door. He looked James up and down, a welcome smile on his face.

'Welcome, Brother,' he said, his accent reminiscent of sing-song Norwegian. Probably originally from Minnesota, thought James. The man continued to smile as he said, 'We're not very religious folk but you're welcome to come in out of the heat if you want for a bit.'

James looked down at his white shirt and tie, under his jacket, then looked up and grinned. He pulled his badge from the side of his belt were it was hidden and held it up.