Chapter 8

'Clear!'
'Clear!'
'All clear Dets!'
Hawk and Maxwell made their way inside the apartment.
'Fuck sake I was sure he'd be lying on the floor surrounded by pictures of the receptionist and that would be the end of it' Maxwell sighed. The single bedroom apartment was spotless. In the living room a huge TV hung on the wall with a stack of DVDs by a PlayStation. Hawk went over and picked them up. Se7en, Natural Born Killers. 'Research maybe?' he asked Maxwell.
'Come on boss I own both those movies doesn't make me a nutcase does it?'
Connected to the living room was a small kitchen and a table with a laptop on it. Maxwell clicked his fingers and pointed to a nearby copper.
'You, get that down the station straight away. I want to know his emails, Facebook, Twitter, the fucking lot within the hour.' He went to the fridge and had a look inside. 'Milks still fresh he must have been here this morning. Everything else is gone.'
'He knew he wasn't going to be coming back here after today that's why' Hawk thought to himself. 'Question is where has he gone? Trying to make a break for it? It can't be suicide or he would have done it here or at the scene of the crime. Unless..'
'Unless he's got more people on his list. We need to find out who else tickled his psycho G-Spot. I'm going upstairs to take a shit.'
'DI Maxwell, maybe you haven't read the handbook they gave you at training but leaving your fecal matter in the toilet of a murder suspect is a pretty big no no.'
'Fuck the rulebook, Eat your bounty.' He disappeared up the stairs.

Hawk made his way up to follow him. Along the stairs were pictures of Inch, a brunette woman and 3 kids. 'Has someone gone to the wifes place?' He asked Crockett who was tailing him like a lingering fart.
'Plain clothes on their way now Guv'
'Well be a good boy, pull your tongue out of my arse and get down their will ya son? Last thing I want is your dribble messing up my crime scene.'
He went into the bedroom. Along the wall there were posters of various footballers. Ian Wright, Thierry Henry, Cesc Fabregas. Clearly Graham was an Arsenal fan. Next to Cesc was a poster of pinup Lucy Pinder and a small notebook computer. The chest of drawers were still full of clothes. That ruled out fleeing the country. On the bed was a small tray with a sandwich and a glass of wine. Did he plan on returning here at some point? There was a note against the wine glass. Hawk picked it up.

Dear Detectives. As I imagine you will be spending the rest of your evening trying to find me then I thought it was only courteous of me to make sure you are properly fed. We wouldn't want you to starve now would we.
Love Graham

 Nothing else in the room gave him anything else to go on. He flicked on the small telly to see what Graham had been watching before he went to business this morning. It was a DVD. Hawk sat on the bed and waited for it to load.
There had to be something. He was positive now that Inch was going to kill someone else. Maybe the family but that just didn't feel right. If he still loved the wife then why wouldn't he have gone their first and why would he have shot the secretary and her lover? Something was amiss and if it wasn't on the laptop then it had to be somewhere in this room.

The toilet flushed and Maxwell came out looking pleased with himself.
'You didn't flush your hands?'
'Thought you might want to dust the taps for prints?'
'What would be the bloody point in that? We already know who the killer is you spanner.'
'Oh yeah. Have you checked behind the poster yet?'
'What poster? Why?
Maxwell walked over to the TV and picked up the empty DVD case.
'Come on it's obvious. The guys watching Shawshank Redemption and needs to find somewhere to hide his secrets?' Hawk shrugged.
'Never seen it'
'You've never seen Shawshank Redemption? Jesus you haven't lived. Next you'll be telling me you don't know who Yoda is'.
Hawk shrugged again. 'Not really into Star Trek.'
I'll ignore that last comment'. Maxwell walked over to the Lucy Pinder poster picking up the sandwich on the way. Come on boss didn't it even stick out to you a little bit that he's got a bunch of Arsenal players on his wall and one glamour girl who hasn't been famous in about 5 years.' He took a bite out of the sandwich and started to take the poster down. 'Ooh, BLT! Seriously though you should check Shawshank out. Tim Robbins best movie by a mile. And that...' he removed the poster and laid it on the bed. 'Is how the pros do it.'

Hawk got off the bed and peered into the cupboard embedded in the wall. Pictures were blu-tacked over most of it so you couldn't see the back at all. There were itineraries, email printouts, TV schedules and the blueprints of what looked like several different buildings. It took a few seconds for him to take it all in. He cleared his throat.
'Maxwell, call in the boys to take  a look at this. We better head over to Mr Scrooges house. I hope for his sake he doesn't scrimp on his security.'
Maxwell tossed him a bounty. 'Awesome but first we're stopping at Blockbusters. I'm buying you Shawshank on DVD for Christmas'