Crime At Its Best...

The blood was everywhere, the bodies were gone. No fingerprints or footprints, nothing was stolen. Even 'the James Scott' didn't know what to make of it. The press was gathering outside, they would soon bombard James in questions, questions he didn't know the answers to... yet.

Were they dead? Were they alive? Were they murdered, was there a fight? He quietly stepped out, held his hand up to indicate to the press that he would not be saying anything.

Getting into the car, he analyzed the infinite possibilities of what could have happened as the police team set up a strong perimeter to keep the pesky reporters outside. This... 'case', was quite exceptional, but if anyone could crack it, it would be James.

He rang up a certain, powerful friend and requested him to search Cambridge and its outskirts for any suspicious bodies or people. Everything was to be under the radar.

All criminals were smart, yet James had out-smarted them. He knew how to think like a criminal, putting him one step ahead. Why talk, when you can listen, learn?

His life was always in danger. Certainly, bound to happen when you have multiple enemies. He chose to continue in this dangerous profession. The car screeched to a sudden halt, James got out and walked slowly to his house, lost on thought.

He unlocked the door and stepped in when a random thought crept into his mind. He looked up, "His ceiling looked rather old, didn't it?"

James rushed back to the crime scene, still thronging with reporters. The dainty, little pawnshop had been redone recently.

What a perfect little crime, yet so predictable, at least to James Scott...

So readers, let me know what you think was the solution. I have given you enough. clues, haven't I? 

Thank you for reading, bye!