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

Chapter 16. A cold shoulder

The Cazenovia Police Department was the large red brick, square building on the edge of town close to the lake. It was different to all the other red brick, square buildings mainly due to the number of police cars parked out the front.

James followed the troopers inside and stepped to the side as sergeants came forward to process both Nigel Mole and Dean Locke and place them in cells for questioning later. Officer Matilda and Marjorie arrived separately and she walked with the girl into the station, steering her away from the main bustle of the foyer towards a quiet room out the back.

Forensics had been called and were on their way up to look over Mole's house and bag anything that looked interesting. As James watched the two men, holding tightly onto their right to remain silent, he wondered if there was a telephone he could use and if Jasmine would mind if he called her now. It was approaching mid-afternoon and he couldn't help but think maybe it was too late. She was probably busy or had at least expected a call from him earlier. Or maybe, he thought as he trudged the unfamiliar back ways of the Cazenovia Police Department, he should wait for her to call.

A trooper approached him and tipped his hat, the thumb of one hand slipped into his belt rung. 'Thought I'd let you know, chief, CSI will be at the house in about 30. It'll take a little longer to get your suspects into our system. Don't know what you wanna do. Stay and wait or meet the boys at the house.'

Nodding, James thanked the man and looked around, trying to decide his best option. He left the back area of the department and entered the front where there were still a few police troopers gathered around in their blue pants and grey, beige shirts. They looked exhausted for things to do and that settled it in James' mind. He grabbed his keys and left the building, searching the car park out front for the only vehicle that didn't match with the local county vehicles. Look around Nigel Mole's house it was.

By good timing he arrived back at the house the same time as the crime scene investigation team and he saw them unpacking their cars and beginning to set up. As he parked out of their way and walked over he thought he recognised one of the men heading inside. The others he knew he didn't know and he identified himself as the officer in charge of the investigation. Pulling on a pair of blue plastic gloves he followed behind them into the house. It was quiet and still, the hot air just sitting undisturbed in the living area. All fans and air conditioning systems had been turned off prior to leaving after the arrests were made.

The forensic team turned on the lights and set up their equipment in the house. James pointed them towards the upstairs area where the bedrooms were and then he began his slow walk around the house. It was full of things, he noticed, items of memorabilia, first edition items one might find at either an expensive auction or a cheap garage sale. There were magnificent paintings on the walls and small statues in the corners of rooms. One housed book case upon book case of books. Another room housed a tournament size pool table and pool cue racks hung on the walls along with framed posters of various pool game rules.

Where Nigel Mole had received his wealth from James really had no idea. Nothing had come up in their investigation about it. There was very little actually recorded about the man ever since he had immigrated to the country 20 years prior. Little to know except that he stayed out of trouble and of the public eye. Until now, that is, thought James wryly.

But at the end of the day where Nigel Mole received his wealth from didn't really matter, nor did the big house or what was in it. All that did was his connection with Claudia Forrest and her daughter, and what motive he had to kill her. Questions that were still unclear.

Leaving the pool room behind James headed upstairs and followed the noise of action to a room halfway down the hallway. He peered inside and saw a giant bathroom with white porcelain tub with claw feet, pink tiles climbing halfway up the wall and silver tiles on the ground. Pink bath towels hung on a silver hook by the tub. It was damp, James noticed, and so had the examiner who was taking a photo of it. James passed on, heading further down the hall where another door was open and light spilled out onto the red patterned carpet that ran the length of the hall. Inside was a master bedroom, in the centre of the room a four poster bed with half a dozen plush pillows and Nigel's red dressing gown laying upon the sheets. Also in the room stood John Kingstains. He stood by the open doors of the walk in robe, staring at something at the back of it.