Page 60 of The Smart Killer
With a deep breath, Noah prepared for the meeting that awaited.
Noah got out and ascended the stone steps, crossing the threshold to a veranda and a large wooden door with a brass knocker. Before he had a chance to knock, the door opened, and Stephen ushered him into a spacious stone foyer adorned with tasteful artwork and a grand chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. The air was scented with lavender. Stephen greeted him warmly in a casual ensemble of a denim shirt, black slacks and shoes. Despite his relaxed attire, a glint of an expensive watch on his wrist caught Noah’s eye, a subtle reminder of his taste for the finer things in life. He extended a hand.
“Detective Sutherland. A pleasure to meet you,” Stephen said, ushering him further into the home. “Come through to the back. Sorry for the mess. We are renovating at the moment. It’s long overdue. I haven’t had time to clean up since returning from my trip.”
“It’s fine,” Noah replied, following him through the home’s interior. They entered a sunroom where a lady, presumably his girlfriend, was tidying up a stack of magazines.
“Helen. This is Detective Sutherland.”
“Please. Call me Noah.”
She smiled warmly and shook his hand.
“Be a darling and run and get us some coffee.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “Of course.” Noah noted that she didn’t like how he spoke to her.
“Please, take a seat.”
“I thought you lived in High Peaks?” Noah asked, his tone casual.
“I do. This used to be my parents’ farm. I come back here from time to time. If I work in Albany or the Big Apple, it’s easier to fly into Piseco Airport and drive here. It’s been in the family for generations. They wanted me to carry on the family tradition, but I just never saw farming in my future,” Stephen explained, his voice almost detached.
In the sunroom, Noah sat on one of the comfortable leather sofas. Beyond the window was a panorama of rolling hills, lush forest, and the occasional glimpse of grazing animals. The serene beauty of the landscape contrasted with the complexities of the situation.
“And you?”
“Policing has always been in the family.”
“You never considered another profession?”
“I was in the military for a while, but I guess you could say I felt drawn to this.”
“And you enjoy it?” he asked. He was interrupted as Helen returned to the sunroom, balancing a tray with two steaming cups of coffee, delicate saucers, and a small bowl of sugar cubes. Her movements were graceful, her demeanor poised as she placed the tray on a nearby table. With a warm smile, she carefully set the cups before Noah and Stephen, ensuring everything was perfectly arranged before excusing herself; her steps light as she retreated from the room. The subtle scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in her wake, a comforting aroma.
“Well, I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me at such short notice.”
“Anything to help. Though by the sounds of it, it’s a little late. I read the newspaper today. Is it true that the man responsible for these crimes is dead?’
“It is. However, the investigation is still ongoing.”
Stephen reached for a polished wooden box on the side table, its rich aroma hinting at the treasures it contained. He cracked it open with practiced ease, revealing an assortment of cigars nestled within. He extended the box towards Noah, offering him one.
“Care for a cigar?” Stephen inquired, his fingers deftly selecting one from the box.
Noah shook his head, declining the offer. “No, thanks.”
“Do you mind if I do? I think better,” he asked, seeking permission. Noah gestured for him to proceed, a silent acknowledgment.
Stephen clipped the end with a silver cutter. The sharp snip echoed softly in the room. He then reached for an ornate lighter, its flame dancing to life with a flick of his thumb. As he held the cigar to the flame, the end glowed red, and tendrils of smoke curled into the air, enveloping his face in a hazy cloud.
“So, how can I help?” he asked.
Noah took out a notebook and reeled off three dates. “Can you confirm where you were the night before?”
“I would need to check with my schedule. I’m curious. I understand the need to question those close to the family members, people who may have had a reason for harming these people, but why me?”
“As you’re aware, the homes were owned by Lakeridge, and according to Michael Taylor, you stood opposed to the development of the smart home neighborhood.”
