Birdhouse

The wet gravel crackled like embers under the weight of the slowing car. The driver killed the engine, swapping its thunderous noise for the pitter patter of the rain. Like a mason jar, the car door popped open. A bright yellow rain boot dug into the mud followed by a second boot. The driver stood, examining the cobblestone driveway leading into the pavilion. Brown moving boxes littered the walkway and stairs leading to the front door, it had been left open.

A figure emerged from the doorway, continuing to sort the boxes and their contents. Patting his chest as he walked, the driver made sure his notepad was where he left it. Almost under the pavilion he was spotted. “Good evening, I wasn’t expecting anymore detectives at this hour,” said the figure.

Still walking toward the shelter of the pavilion, the driver countered. “Oh, no-no I’m not a detective, I am sorry to have come by this late ma’am. I just couldn’t beat that damn storm, they said it wasn’t supposed to reach cape cod till tomorrow but... Anyway, my name is Charles Quinn. I’m a claims inspector from Alba Insurance and I’m just here to quickly catalog Mr. Condor’s birds so the boys from the conservatory can come get them tomorrow.”

They stood in silence, staring at each other. The figure spoke again, “Ah, I wasn’t aware he left them to charity. My name is Taylor Barnes, I worked for Mr. Condor.”

“Nice to meet you Ms. Barnes,” Quinn said in a rushed manner.

“You know these aren’t exactly dinosaur bones or Viking helmets and as valuable as they may be, they need constant care and attention and with no next of kin we thought the Connecticut Avian Conservatory would be a nice new home for them.”

“Yes, alright then. Come on in” Barnes sighed. “Thank You”, Quinn quickly responded as he made his way into the foyer. Immediately noticing the coat rack, he disrobed and shook off his hat before hanging it up.

“You don’t see many female butlers these days... or ever really, huh?” , Remarked Quinn

Barnes sharply replied, “No. No you don’t. I’ve been with Mr. Condor for some time now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean anything by it - I just talk and talk sometimes and well, with the storm raging how it is I - I - uh...so how long did you work for Mr. Condor? I mean, you don’t look that old to me. Wait no, what I meant was I didn’t know women could-“

“Come Mr. Quinn, let us catalog those birds.” Barnes interrupted, extending her arm as to gesture Quinn into the next room. Quinn chuckled nervously, “Catalog birds, yes ma’am.” With the word “catalog” in the air Quinn realized he had left his notepad inside his coat. He shuffled back toward the coat rack and rummaged through the jacket pocket, finally finding both covers and squeezing them together to keep the wallet sized pictures he had inside the pages from falling out. He whipped the note pad out of the pocket, held it above his head and scuffled to catch up to Barnes.

“Alrighty” he released a long sigh and smiled, presenting the open notepad to Ms. Barnes.

The open page was all but blank, “Spix Macaw” sat in the header. A 1x1 photo of an ocean blue bird was firmly tucked into the centerfold of the first page. “So, I just need to go through the estate, find the birds that I have a picture of, jot down their locations and then I’ll be on my way.”

Clearly uninterested Barnes responded: “That would be Sally, Mr. Condors Spix Macaw, she’s just over here in the grand living room.” She made her way without looking back for Quinn.

Quinn eagerly followed Barnes away from the corpse of what was once a foyer and into the middle of the newly abandoned space that was the Grand Living room. The layout was such that when the two stopped walking they found themselves dead center of the room. Quinn stood in awe for a moment. Even put together, the places he could afford were never as spacious as this.

A little less overwhelmed, he examined the room looking for a cage but was unable to find any signs of a bird. Noticing the dusty Persian rug sprawled out across the floor and the white sheets that covered the rest of the furniture Quinn remarked, “This sure is some living room …You said he kept the Macaw in here?”

“Yes, just over here...” replied Barnes, confidently walking toward the giant arched window in the corner of the room. Placed a few feet away from the titan - sized window was a room divider and on the other side of it was the Macaw.

Quinn reached into his front right pocket, pulling out a pen as he walked past Barnes. He carefully approached the room divider. Only his head rounded the corner, allowing him a momentary glance at the bird. Perched in its golden cage, the bird stood eyeballing the window at the sound of the rain beating against it. Quinn slowly retracted his head hopping not to startle the already hyper- vigilant Spix Macaw.

“One down” Quinn exclaimed as he scribbled : Left from foyer, front of window-behind divider.

He clicked his pen closed. Realizing he was now alone in the room, his eyes darted around for Barnes, “Ms. Barnes?” he shouted.

“I’m in the lounge! It’s the door to your left inspector.” Following her voice, he slowly opened the door, inspecting the dim lit room from the doorway. Still grasping the door handle, he locked eyes with something just above Ms. Barnes' head, and behind those eyes glared another pair.

He took a step back before noticing the one-inch-thick bars that extended from the floor to the ceiling. Unconcerned by Quinn’s cautious demeanor, Barnes took a step away from the cage and presented the birds. “Abbott and Costello, Mr. Condors prized Australian Ostriches.”

Quinn’s eyes were still locked with the big bird’s as he reached for his pen. “Lounge, big birds, can’t miss ‘em,” chuckling as he wrote. Ms. Barnes walked swiftly across the room and into the study. Quinn followed after her.

The Study was dark and close to empty. Newspapers covered the only window in the room and in the center of it was a desk covered in white cloth. A sliver of light came from the lounge. On top of the desk was a metal wire cage, in it an albino crow adjusting its head as the two approached.

Her hands rested behind her back and chin raised high Barnes declared, “This is Alfred Mr. Co-“A White Crow?” Quinn exclaimed in disbelief. “Albino” Barnes nodded. “Gotcha,” Quinn said softly as if to make up for his sudden outburst. He opened his notepad to write. Still scribbling he hesitantly asked, “So...they’re still looking for the guy, right?… I mean he did the thing and then woosh- gone?” Barnes nodded again, “Right now, that’s what it’s looking like, that’s what they’re saying.”

“Oh Yeah?” Quinn's head tilted back as he looked Barnes square in the eye. “…Well, I heard snippets on the radio coming over, before the storm picked up. The guy, he was some sort of bird expert, right? they said Mr. Condor flew him out to look at birds or something?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” replied Barnes.

“So… where were you then? I mean… you were the one who found his-”, realizing how callous his line of questioning was, Quinn pursed his lips shut and looked to the floor. “ Yes, I found Mr. Condor this morning. Per his instructions, I had been staying in the guest house while he had company.

Before Quinn could get any more words out of his mouth Barnes spun around on her heels and marched forward before stopping again, “Shall we inspector?” Barnes signed toward the open door of the master bedroom.

The two exited the dark study finding themselves in the pitch-black master bedroom. The scanty light from the lounge stopping short of the doorway. They made their way in. Glass popped under their footsteps. Squinting at the floor to inspect the glass, Quinn remembered that a murder had just occurred. Realizing that he could be standing in the crime scene he nervously kicked the glass away from himself with his feet and shifted his focus.

“So, are there any in here?” Quinn asked. “Two. In cages on both sides of the bed, right on the nightstands,” replied Barnes.

“And the lights?”

“Shattered in the struggle.” Barnes replied stoically. Quinn shuddered for a moment, loosening his collar. His previous thoughts were just confirmed to be true by those morbid words.

He couldn’t see them, but he could hear the birds rustling around their cages.

“Alright, please let's just go, I’m taking your word for it. It’s these two, yea?” Barnes grinned a little and looked over at the notepad. Failing to make out the birds in the pictures, “Let’s just step in here” she said walking toward a Dutch style door.

Only opening the top half, a golden light bathed Quinn’s hands. Barnes reviewed the notepad, Quinn held it steady as he walked past her and into the Dining room. “Yes, two Royal Sunangles, Hestia and Hera.”

“Perfect!” exclaimed Quinn. Unsure of how to phrase his note Quinn took a moment. Tapping his forehead with the pen, then snapping. “Got it! Alright. Sorry, all set.”

Without a word, Barnes led them out of the dining room and back into the foyer. There Quinn stood for a moment before shifting his weight back on one leg.

Deep in thought he looked up, holding his chin to think. Suddenly, he froze; his eyes widening and mouth agape. Fixed on one spot he raised his hand, pointing at the stained-glass windowpane above the front door.

“Hmmm, look at that. I wasn’t aware Mr. Condor kept such common birds.”

“No no no, that barn owl belonged to him, the bird guy.” Barnes explained.

“Ohhhhh...Well good luck getting that thing to budge. Everyone knows that domesticated barn owls only perch on their owners' arms. Once they’ve bonded, it’s for life.” Quinn nodded, still looking at the Barn Owl.

“That is the least of my concerns right now” Barnes said sternly. “I hear that. Alright well look, I still got paperwork and one hell of drive ahead of me.” Quinn said, checking his watch.

“Ugh. Ten- Thirty- six. Monday night so I guess no traffic but it’s still pouring out,” He added. Quinn walked toward the coat rack collecting his hat and coat.

In dead silence, Barnes watched as Quinn got into his hat and coat. Now feeling a bit uneasy by the silent eye contact he opened the front door and walked outside. Barnes grabbed an umbrella and followed Quinn out.

“Well, this was...fun Ms. Barnes. Goodbye for now and who knows maybe your next employer will keep birds too… or maybe he’ll just feed them like a normal person. Quin nodded, giving a thumbs up before running to his car.

“Indeed, he will, Inspector!” Barnes yelled back.

Quinn swung the door open and dove into the car, escaping the rain once more. He shut the door, threw his hat in the seat next to him, and started the engine. This time swapping the sound of rain for the loud engine of his car.

Pulling away from the estate, a bolt of lightning caught his eye in the rear-view mirror. For a second, he thought it had stuck the house. Then something else caught his eye, he turned white and his heart skipped a beat as he slammed on the brakes.

Still standing outside was Ms. Barnes, the Barn Owl perched on her arm.