Sickle-y Cruel

Chapter 5: What's Peter Sparrow Know

My annoyed mood lifts, as I notice Miss Swift walking with young Peter, causing me to smile. We walk over to them.

"Hello, how have you two been today?" I ask.

"Oh, Dear John! Hello!" Miss Swift says, smiling at my arrival. "Well, I have some explanations for you; though, I think young Mr. Sparrow would prefer we talk somewhere quiet."

I nod. "Then, let us spare him from the praying eyes of the police station and head to my place."

She nods, and that's where we head. After entering, Crow immediately busies himself with making tea and starting dinner of some sort. I sigh at the caretaker like habits he had made a routine not long after meeting me.

"You know, I never understood why he treats you as if you can't take care of yourself." Miss Swift comments, watching Crow work.

Peter sits, leaning over the back of the chair to watch Crow work.

"Because, he believes I can't. I honestly was wreck til he took over." I explain.

"I find that hard to imagine." She says, raising an eyebrow at me.

I chuckle. "You'd be surprised."

"He was a mess." Crow butts in. "Like, that older brother who's so busy working he doesn't get up to feed himself. And, never well rested." He complains.

I smile awkwardly, taking a seat at the table. Miss Swift takes the seat next to me, chuckling at the description.

"Not that hard to imagine then." She comments. "Right, Peter." She says, catching the boy's attention. "Could you explain to Detective Raven what you explained to me? Take your time."

The boy turns to sit in the seat properly, looking down at the table and taking a deep breath before starting. "When I was little, me and my two sisters would play murder mystery. We'd draw straws, and the shortest was to play dead, the longest be detective. Sometimes our family would join in, including our aunts..." He explains, and things in my brain start to click. "So, when I saw Aunty Jane on the floor, I thought we were just playing. So, when Aunty June went to get you, I thought you drew the longest straw."

I nod.

"It's in my belief that Miss June treated this like it was just the game. That way he wouldn't be scared or upset." Miss Swift adds.

"That would make sense. So, does he-" I start.

"I know Aunty Jane isn't playing." The boy interrupts sadly. "Miss Swift explained it to me... You are going to find Aunty's killer, right?" He asks, looking up at me with sad brown eyes.

I feel kind of put on the spot, but I answer confidently and truthfully. "Yes."

The boy smiles slightly, nodding. "That's what I thought. I just wanted it confirmed. The detective always wins."

I smile slightly at his words. Crow pats the boy's head, smiling as well. He puts four mugs on the table, pouring tea into each one. Young Peter smiles happily, starting to put a large amount of sugar into his tea like a small child would. Despite being a teenager, he seems to be hanging onto childlike habits. Miss Swift and I wait our turn, before we fix our tea as well.

"Is there anything you might have seen that might help us?" I ask gently.

Peter takes a sip of tea, putting his mug down to think. "Not really. I was out delivering newspapers. All, I noticed was Aunty's feather on the floor, but you already picked that up." The teen explains.

My eyes widen slightly at the news. I take my handkerchief out of my pocket, unfolding it and taking the feather out. I twirl it between my fingers, examining it closely. But, Jane's was in her hair... Unless...

"This is Miss June's..." I mumble.

I think back to yesterday, trying to spot June wearing the feather somehow. But, from what I saw, she wasn't.

"Mike, when Miss June talked highly of her sister, how did she sound?" I ask my friend.

"Kind of sugared and reminiscent. Why, Mr. Raven?" Crow questions.

"John!" Miss Swift whisper shouts, glaring slightly. "You can't honestly be considering-" She continues hushed.

"Yes, I am considering. It's my job to consider." I interrupt, hushed as well.

Miss Swift looks back to Peter, piping up to ask, "Peter, was there any chance your aunt June could have dropped her traditional feather?"

He nods. "She only ever has it pinned in her hair. It falls quite often, and she's always picking it up."

"Thank you." Miss Swift says, looking at me and smirking slightly.

I sigh. Crow turns, putting plates and silverware on the table.

"Hush your bickering. Let us eat in peace." Crow scolds.