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

Chapter 23. Face the dead

In time the forensic team and a whole squad of troopers showed up at the house and James handed custody of Marjorie over to them. He stayed long enough to pass on authority and update them on what had happened and then he left. All the way home James couldn't get the events of the morning out of his head. All he could see was the image of Marjorie standing with a bloody hammer next to her father's dead body. When he could shuffle that view out of his mind it was only replaced by her mother which slid in and out of focus sometimes taking on the appearance of his own.

His breath came in ragged gasps and sweat dripped from his forehead as he tried to stay focused on the road. He made it home and dragged himself into his apartment and collapsed onto the couch. He turned the TV on and just stared at whatever played. There were things that he knew he had to do, top of the list being rescind the charge of murder against Nigel Mole, but his body felt like there were weights pressing down on it. The thought of getting up hurt.

While he tried to distance himself from the case he kept finding himself drawn back to it, to Marjorie, of how much she had to have been put through to have decided murdering her parents and running away was the best idea. What frightened him most as he thought about it was the fact that he did not blame her, or feel sorry for the dead. Instead he felt sorry for her. And sorry that he had caught her. Sorry that she wasn't going to get away with it. That scared him most. That there were thoughts swirling in his head that made him wonder what things would have been like if he had arrived at the house and just let her go. Not to have called for back up, not to have arrested her, but instead claimed she wasn't at the house when he got there and that he had no idea where she had gone.

After what felt like hours he managed to drag himself to his feet and turn off the TV. He freshened up into a change of clothes and made his way downstairs. Climbing into the borrowed police vehicle he set off to One Police Plaza to face the inevitable.

As soon as he entered the building Ming came up, face drawn and harassed. 'The Captain's looking for you,' he said, looking back over his shoulder desperately. He looked back to James. 'You'd better get to his office now.'

A few minutes later James found himself walking towards the glass office door of Captain Ekhart's office. It swung open and Ekhart stood in the frame, face red. 'Holland,' he called, 'get in here now!'

Hurrying in, James sat down as Ekhart closed the door behind them and sat at his own desk.

'I've been trying to reach you for hours,' he said, face red and angry. 'Where have you been?

James thought back over the events of the morning. 'Syracuse,' he said. 'I was...'

'I know you were in Syracuse,' snapped Ekhart. 'I sent you there to escort Claudia Forrest's family around the house to pack up there stuff. I got a call from them telling me you'd just left them alone in the house. And then an hour later I get another call from the local police department up there that they had just had a call from you requesting back up because you'd just arrested Marjorie Forrest for the murder of Dean Locke. The police arrived and took her into custody and then you disappeared.'

James nodded. He was there. 'I remember,' he said quietly. 'I was on my way back here.' Just via a detour.

'Well, next time answer your radio and cell because I've been calling,' said Ekhart, settling back into his chair, the aggression falling flat as it ended. 'Now tell me everything. Especially why we've got a man in the cells also under arrest for Claudia's murder who you now say Marjorie was responsible.'

With a sigh, James leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped together and proceeded to tell Ekhart everything he had come to realise. Ekhart listened carefully, face stoic, occasionally nodded along. When James finished he sat forward.