((hronk))
James pulls out a slim manila folder from his jacket. "The're all here. Not much to go on at the moment, though." He opens up the folder, to reveal a police report, ink still fresh, and a few Polaroid photos of Sir Alexander taken while he was still alive. He leans on the passenger side door as they go through the bend. "One dead, maybe forty suspects, and no solid proof of anything. We've got our work cut out for us." he says, less than enthused. He closes the folder and slips it back into his coat.