Sickle-y Cruel

Chapter 3: A Plan

"So, we have one suspect?" A student asks.

"Quite." John nods. "And, who might that be?"

"Mr. Nightjar." Someone answers.

"Yes, quite good, but what makes him a suspect?" The detective inquires.

There are several mumbles and sounds of confusion, along with Peter raising his hand.

"You're not aloud to answer, Peter. You already know the answer." John says, causing the young male to lower his hand.

"Is it perhaps..." One student starts, unsure. "Perhaps, because he obviously had relations with one of the sisters?"

John nods. "Yes, and there's much more." He says, before continuing his story.

***

I stare at the feather while Crow pours us both a cup of coffee. I take the cup as he holds it out to me. We are currently at my house, planning out the day. We are to converse and go over what we know, then eat an early lunch and head to the police station. Hopefully we'll get a lead to follow from there.

"Try not to dwell on it too much, Mr. Raven. It mightn't be a clue at all." My friend advises, earning a nod.

There's a knock at the door, which Crow gets up to answer. I continue to stare at the feather, lost in thought.

"Hello! Oh, Mr. Crow. Of course... I honestly don't know what I was expecting." A slightly disappointed voice says from the door. "I suppose, he's lost in thought again, isn't he?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Crow answers simply.

Footsteps sound, along with the closing of the front door. A set of hands covers my eyes suddenly, causing me to jump and tense up. The person doesn't speak, leaving me without two of my senses to identify them. From the smell of aged paper and leather, I can infer it to be Miss Swift, simply due to the fact that she's a librarian at the time.

"Miss Swift, just what do you think you're up to?" I take her hands in mine to move them away from my face, leaning back in my seat and turning my head to smile at her.

"Paying you a visit." She says, taking her hands away from me. "I mean, really. You haven't paid me any mind for at least a week now." She states, taking a seat at the table.

Crow pours her a mug of coffee, setting it down for her. He takes his seat at the table.

"My apologies. I was visiting family." I respond.

"Oh, how is the conspiracy?" She asks considerately.

"Quite well, thank you." I say, taking a sip of coffee.

She fixes hers while asking, "So, what has got your mind so adrift today?"

"A new murder case. We just came across it yesterday." Crow answers.

"Oh my, how wonderful! Oh, I mean, it's dreadfully awful, but you hadn't had work for a month or so." She says, confused on how her emotions should be set at the moment. "So, do tell. Or, can you not?"

"It wouldn't harm to tell you. After all, you hardly take time to make friends." I comment in a teasing tone.

"I do take the time! It's just that they all find me odd..." Swift argues.

"Well, you, as a woman, are trying to become an English professor." I state.

"What of it? Do you not approve?" She asks unhappily.

"Actually, I think it's a very bold idea. I admire you for it, Miss Swift." I contradict.

She smiles coyly. "Why, thank you, Dear John."

"Anyway! Getting back onto the topic at hand!" Crow states rather loudly.

"Alright, calm down, Mike. Gees, what has got your feathers ruffled?" I ask.

He sighs, not answering the question. "Anyways, from what we found yesterday we know the victim is Miss Jane Sparrow."

Swift gasps. "No, but who would want to kill one of the sisters?"

"We don't know yet. Our only suspect is maybe a Mr. William Nightjar. And, that little boy knows something. I just know it." I contemplate, staring at the feather again.

"Little boy?" Swift asks.

"Actually, he's sixteen. Young Mr. Peter Sparrow, the sisters' nephew. He refuses to answer questions, treating this as if it were a game." Crow explains.

"Well, let me talk to him." Swift says suddenly.

"What?" I question.

"I am going to be teaching young men. It'd be nice to have some experience interacting with them." She explains.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to try, would it, Mr. Raven?" Crow asks me.

"I guess not." I reply.

"Then, I shall take Miss Swift to the boy, and you may get the folder from the station. We'll meet in the center of town, while Miss Swift gains the boys trust." Crow plots.

I smile. "Sounds well enough." I say with a nod.

After some more chatter and an early lunch, we head off. I enter the police station, getting hit with the strong smell of poppy seed muffins. I crinkle my nose a bit at the strong, yet not unpleasant, smell. The Pigeon brother officers all happily stuff themselves, along with the chief doing the same. I send a confused look at the one officer I trust really, Neleus Nighthawk. He stares at his co-workers with slight disgust before his brown eyes land on me.

"Oh, thank god. Someone normal." He mumbles, sighing with relief.

"You know, I often wonder why you got a job as an officer." I comment, joining his side.

"I honestly have no clue at this point." He responds.

"So, where did all of these muffins come from?" I ask, looking around again.

"Miss June brought them in; she said she didn't want to waste the muffin batter." He answers.

I sigh. "I suppose, they didn't get the folder put together did they?"

"Actually, I did. I hate poppy seeds, so I didn't take part in stuffing myself till I need a nap." He says, holding the folder out to me. "But, everyone else did, so you get to check all the leads before us." He says with a smile. "But, I didn't say that."

I smile, taking the file. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?" I ask in a joking manner.

He laughs, and we shake hands. I leave the station, heading to the center of town. I sit on a bench and open the folder, going through it. It's most of what we already know and nothing on Nightjar, but there are a few things of interest, the papers about the murder weapon and autopsy papers. For the murder weapon, there are papers on the fingerprints of three people, and a carved inscription under all the blood on the handle. The inscription is "Property of Gallus Farm". The three people: June Sparrow, obviously; someone called George Gallus, probably the owner of the tool; and, surprisingly, William Nightjar. Now, why would he have any reason to come into contact with the murder weapon? The only thing different from what I know about the cause of death, is that she was stabbed once in the chest as well, meaning the killer faced her at one point.

"So, how's it look, Mr. Raven?" I hear, looking up to see Crow.

"We have two leads, someone called George Gallus and William Nightjar." I explain.

"So, he's an actual suspect now? How so, Mr. Raven?" He asks.

"His prints were on the murder weapon." I tell.

"Oh, and here I was hoping he was just a nice concerned fellow." He says, disappointed slightly.

I shake my head, standing. "You're always too optimistic. But, there's still a chance he's innocent. Let's check Gallus Farm first."

Crow nods, and we head off again.