Chapter Three

07:20 am. New Year's day.

The clickety-clack of the two pairs of dress shoes against the concrete floor echoed throughout the narrow hallway. The cadence of their loud and purposeful strides.

"What about surveillance cameras?" Loxley spoke up. Her footsteps short and steadfast, in an almost bird-like swiftness.

"There's one in the reception above the door and another at the far end of the corridor from the crime scene." Ebony informed.

Loxley noticed him slow down his stride for the conversation and to match her steps. Being a tall person, it took him conscious effort to reduce the pace of his footsteps.

"But don't hold your breath, Jay," Ebony said, looking as though he was wrong.

"The quality of the footage isn't good, and the reception camera's stationed above the door. We'll only be able to identify the person as they exit, and... it only gets better." Ebony frowned, chewing on the inside of his mouth, and glanced out the corner of his eyes at Loxley. "The feed of the corridor camera was temporarily looped."

He took a deep breath, "I've still got the footage pulled, though."

"That's good." Loxley said, taking a sip of the lukewarm tea from the paper cup.

Their footsteps ceased right in front of a maple door.

"Good morning," Loxley greeted the policeman that stood right outside the door and glanced at his name tag. "Officer Malek."

The guarding officer, a wiry man who appeared to be in his early thirties with military hair and a vapid look in his eyes, greeted back. He then opened the door for Loxley and Ebony who exchanged a greeting nod.

The minute Loxley walked inside, an adenoidal female voice filled her ears and pervaded inside those four walls. "Took you two long enough."

"I don't think the non-flinch officer outside even talks. He wouldn't utter a word to my conversation." She huffed.

There, behind the interrogation table sat a young woman of about twenty years of age who still displayed remnants of a teenager. Newly twenty-one at the most. She reclined in the straight-back chair, her legs crossed at the ankles and her arms folded over her stomach. Her auburn hair was cobbled together into two messy plaits, and the white striped mocha shirt that hung loose on her frame was solely safeguarded by an olive-green tweed vest. She was the picture of relaxation and recklessness.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting." Loxley began, a welcoming smile on her lips and her gaze solemn opposed to the girl's pensive scrutiny. "The name's Niven, right?"

"Yes. Is that a two-way mirror?" Niven gestured with a tilt of her head in the direction of the wide stationary window in front of her.

"No, that's an aquarium." Ebony retorted.

The girl peered at him with squinted eyes.

His face was deadpanned at best, but the negligible glint in his eyes didn't escape Loxley's notice.

"Do you get your suspects to confess with your terrible one-liners?" Niven riposted, a harmless smile on her face.

Loxley smirked. In spite of Niven's peevishness, she was captivated.

"So, Niven," Loxley interjected gaining the girl's attention, seeing as Ebony's mouth twitched to form a witty comeback. She strode over to the table, set the paper cup on the surface and slid into the chair.

"Would you like some coffee or tea?" Loxley asked politely, gesturing to her paper cup.

"Yes, please." Niven nodded. "A cup of tea with two teaspoons of sugar and a bit of milk."

"Would you like whole milk or skimmed milk?" Ebony teased. He straightened his back, replicating the stance of a typical barista for a moment, then added: "This isn't a café." Ebony gave a subtle roll of his eyes and disappeared out the door. He reappeared in less than five minutes, a disposable cup with steam levitating atop in his hand.

"Could you please state your first and last name for the camera?" Loxley chimed in, going into formal mode.

Ebony took his co-partner's signal and pressed the record button of the camera.

"I assumed this was just a simple Q and A." Niven said, her olive-green eyes narrowed on the camera.

"The camera is just for note-taking." Ebony replied, taking a seat beside Loxley.

The detectives waited patiently for the girl to affirm her name.

"Niven Boone." The girl announced for the camera.

Loxley possessed a curious stare. The way she said her name was almost pretentious. Like she was the only person that had ever been given the name.

"You're the one who reported the dead body, am I right?" Loxley's tone was reserved. Her voice steady.

"That's right." Niven replied, adding: "It was a ghastly sight." Her face was unreadable and composed for someone recalling the tragedy they had seen.

"I bet." Loxley said, softly. "Now, you've already told Officer Walker how you found the body but I was hoping you could elaborate for us." She continued, cautiously picking the right words. "If you could please describe the scene you found and the time?"

"It should've been a bit after eleven forty. I don't know the exact time, I'm afraid. Eleven forty or forty-five, shouldn't be too far from the truth." Niven said, blowing and sipping her tea. "I was doing my usual cleaning duties when I saw Jacques totally hammered in the lounge."

"Jacques is one of the guests," Loxley said in a questioning tone, making sure her understanding was right.

"Yes. More like a resident. A nice fellow but a heavy boozer twenty-four seven." Niven's lips tightened. For once, her nonchalant act dropped. "Anyway, I helped him up and lead him to his room." She paused a second, as if to assemble her thoughts; but as deliberate were her speech and manner, Niven's eyes betrayed her. They fluttered with intense eagerness combined with perturbation.

"After leaving Jacques in his room, I had this strange gut feeling to check room number ten. I did and there, lay the bloody body. I belted right out to the reception and dialled the police."

"A gut feeling." Ebony piqued, straightening his shoulders and leaned back in the chair. "You don't recognise the dead man?"

"No." Niven's answer was hasty. "I don't recall him check in."

Niven drank her tea in a state of leisure. Her face relaxed yet attentive, waiting for the next question.

"Is there anything else you want to tell us?" Loxley finally asked. "Do you remember seeing anything unusual last night?"

There was a pause. Loxley studied the girl's demeanour. She noticed how her pupils dilated; and then Niven's nasally voice resurfaced.

"Actually there was something. I'm not even sure what I saw but..." She licked her lips, "as I was helping Jacques to his room, I saw Patel dash out of room number ten. He looked gobsmacked when he saw me before he disappeared into his room. And I..." She paused, gulping, "I could've sworn that I saw blood spatter on his light-blue shirt but I could be wrong."

"Patel? The other guest?" Ebony perked up in his chair, his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes. I'm not saying he's responsible for the murder, but there's no denying he acts like one of his screw's loose. If you ask me, I always found him weird on some subconscious level. Who lives in a motel for more than a day!"

As Niven continued talking about these warped things, Loxley couldn't help but observe how very calm and collected the girl was. She said it with such ease and casualness as if talking about the weather that night.

"Are you sure it was Mr. Patel?" Ebony asked, sternly.

"Detective, are you calling me a bloody liar? I saw what I saw!" Niven raised her voice, squinting and glaring at Ebony with her huge olive-green eyes. "Jacques was with me. I'm sure he saw Patel too."

"Alright, thank you for the information, Niven." Loxley said, her bottom already up from the chair and her left hand gripping her empty cup of tea. She touched Ebony's shoulder as a non-verbal 'come on!' and took brisk footsteps towards the door.

Loxley jerked to a stop and turned her head back to the girl. "How good are you with the technologies?" 

"Proficient." Niven replied. Her head held high.

"Do you monitor the surveillance cameras?"

"It's a little impractical as I'm the one and only staff member. It's a bit challenging but yes."

Loxley swore she saw the swollen head of ego peeking over from Niven's shoulder. She nodded a 'thank you'. Out of the corner of her eyes, Loxley saw Ebony join her after turning off the camera.

As Loxley opened the door, Niven called out. "Detective! Am I free to go? Mr. Boone has gone barmy hearing his motel is a murder site."

"No. Not at this point. Officer Malek would escort you back to the waiting room." Ebony replied, half of his torso twisted to look behind at the girl.

"Wymond is dull as a dishwasher and we rarely get guests at Seven Crows. Now that it's labelled as murder site, the motel is as good as closed." The girl huffed, sinking back against the straight-back chair.

"I'll be sure to let the murderer know what an inconvenience they've caused by committing a murder in your exquisite motel." Ebony deadpanned and shut the door.

"Something is off about that girl. She triggers off all of my spider senses." Ebony muttered low under his breath, only for Loxley to hear him.

Loxley took quick-thinking steps away from the interrogation room. "Well, she seemed a little too blasé about the whole situation." She thought out loud.

"This Patel guy she claims to have seen, what's your take on that?" Ebony halted in his path, waiting for a response.

"It's fair to say that her words are truth embellished with lies. We just have to scour the truth out." Loxley said, coming to a standstill at the end of the hallway. She swivelled on her heels and looked straight at Ebony's dark-brown eyes. "It wouldn't hurt to question Mr. Patel."