It was a cluttered apartment in the uptown part of the city. Nothing many luxuries could be afforded, either that or the victim just didn't feel the need to have them. Ah, yes. The victim. A middle-aged man in his forties. He had no family, an only child, both of his parents having passed. No wife, no children. He worked at a museum, and did a presentation on birds. He was mildly obsessed with birds...ok, really obsessed with the man's computer, we found his browsing history, he had a heck of a time finding an apartment building that allowed pet birds. Even then, he was only allowed to have one. On his walls were paintings of tropical wonders, each featuring an exotic bird. Books about bird calls, and scientific bird magazines decked his counters and of death: strangulation. The police were already there when we arrived, and informed us of this fact.

I recorded all of these observations into Mike's iPad working quickly and efficiently. Mike inspected the body, and details around the room. He momentarily glanced at the cockatoo perched precariously inside an elaborate cage. That cage seemed to be the only "nice thing" inside the apartment.

"Marvin, Maaaaaarvin," a cracked and screechy voice called. Mike jumped, his face paling as he tried to find the source of the call. I struggled to suppress my giggles.

"Never heard a bird talk before?" I elbowed him and nodded toward the cockatoo. He relaxed, his cheeks flushing a bit out of embarrassment.

"My sister was allergic, I've never been very close to birds."

"Well, they do that a lot." Kent unceremoniously injected himself into our conversation, "Talk, that is."

"I got that, Kenny," Mike replied, somewhat nervously. He didn't seem too comfortable with the talking bird.

"It's kinda weird, though. That's not the name of his owner. Must be a close friend, someone the owner mentioned quite a bit. Otherwise, the bird wouldn't have known that name," I mumbled.

"You're right, Marvin is the name of the victims colleagues. He also works in the bird portion of the museum." Mike told us, "There were two others he was close to, both working in the bird branch, pardon the pun. Jennette and Vincent."

"My money is on Vincent, that's an evil sounding name!" Kent speculated.

"You can not seriously mean that, you buffoon." I criticized.

"I think we should go meet these people," Mike interrupted before Kent and I could start arguing. "All three of them have keys to this apartment, and none have alibis."

"That means..."

"They are our prime suspects."

A/N Haha, I really like the relationship between Kent and Elise, they tease like brother and sister XP Anyway, hope you enjoyed! More soon!