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

Chapter 15. A dance of two or three

Familiar crowded streets crawled by as James' car inched through Manhattan Streets. Eventually he turned off the main road onto a highway and the road before him opened up and he shot away, the city fading into the distance. Metropolis faded to low rise houses and then into stretches of summer country side, green and in bloom, everything alive and growing after a harsh winter.

The roads stretched on, no matter which turn he took and the minutes ticked by. James sat in his thoughts, the music on the road a static background noise he barely noticed. There was a regular rhythm to the suspension of the car as it rode over bumps and changes in surfaces, street signs flashing by counting down the distance to Cazenovia. Part of the joy of being a detective was the ability to travel around and see other places.

Most police stayed within their jurisdiction of the precincts, but James' job was different. He was the only odd member of the Major Crimes Squad that specialised in kidnappings that involved homicides. As a rule, Major Crimes Square didn't investigate homicides. That was an area that belonged to precinct detective squads or borough homicide squads, like Teddy. But James' job overlapped as often someone would be found dead and someone important to the case missing, not just in a 'run-away' sense but as in a 'taken' sense.

While others in his position would liaise with a detective heading the murder investigation while they focused solely on the kidnapping, James found it was easier for him to do both as they were both usually intertwined. Find the killer, you find the missing person. Plus, he didn't like working with other people. Ming and Brewster were okay, but they were also State Troopers. They did groundwork and the two of them were good at their job. They also had to answer to him. Whereas a co-partnership never appealed to James and somehow he had been able to weasel out of ones in the past.

Breaking into his thoughts, a sign welcoming him to Cazenovia loomed before him, rushing down the highway towards him. He slowed and turned off, recognising the streets from his last visit. He could see the lake in the distance, sparkling blue under the bright sun. The weather was decent for a summer's day. Pure white clouds sprinkled the blue sky and a breeze whistled silently through the air, ruffling the leaves of newly revived summer trees. The smell of barbeque's wafted on the air, thinly hiding the stench of the lake and the creatures that frequented it.

He passed through the town and crawled along the lake, coming eventually to the large estates that dotted the edge of the landmark of the town. Nigel Mole's front gate was open again and James drove up the driveway and pulled to a stop behind a silver station wagon. The front door of the house was open, James noted as he stepped out of his car and looked around the property. There was no one around that he could see, not even down towards the boathouse. There were boats on the lake, lounging lazily on the tideless water. He could see specks of humans in them but they were too far away to identify if any of them were his suspects.

The property was oddly quiet as he meandered up the path towards the front door. No sounds of birds or wildlife. Even the wind had ceased. Then James heard something echoing through the air. A man's voice screaming. As James arrived at the door he stared in surprise as two men barrelled down the open living area, running towards the door. He recognise both of them instantly. Dean Locke in the lead, his hair had fallen out of its ponytail and flowed behind him, a look of anger and panic on his face Blood dripped from a gash in his forehead. His eyes widened as he noticed James in the doorway.

'Get the fuck away!' he screamed. 'Fucking move!'

James stepped to the side as Dean rushed out the door.

'Ya lously schmuck!' James heard echo through the house as Nigel Mole careened through the door close on Dean Locke's heels. He had changed out of his usual suit and dressing gown and was wearing a pair of boxers and a baggy shirt, revealing a skinny, baggy, hairy body that once upon a time might have been a well-built, fit body. He was waving a cane above his head and as it swished over James' head which he had ducked just in time, James caught sight of a splash of red on the tip of it.