Killed With A Twist

L for Law

     "Moby I don't think he'll be at home...he can't be that stupid.... " Ray muttered, his hands on his hips as he stared at Pete Finlay's House at the end of Castle Street. Police squad was ambushing it in all directions, pointing their guns, wearing full armour and ready to break down the door.

    " Yeah ... But let's check it out anyway... maybe we'll find a clue to where he is..." Moby said, sighing.

     In a few seconds, the door thrashed down, releasing a loud thud. The squad entered, darting inside in all directions. They stormed through every and each corner, only to realise there was no living being inside.

    " Sir, everything's clear.... There's no one...." one cop murmured to Ray, as he came through the broken door. " but we did find something else..."

      They climbed the stairs and headed to the master bedroom. The cops had searched all through the closets, desks and all the other furniture. Just as Ray entered, his eyes caught the glimpse of what the cop was talking about.

    " They were hidden inside his pillow cases..." He pointed at the pistol on the floor. Ray realised it was a hand gun just as he saw it. He memorised  how Pete had said he didn't own a gun and was not allowed to use one. Ray sighed, disappointed, "son of a bitch..."

    Moby looked around for a couple of minutes, his eyes squinted at the partially open cupboard door. " Why aren't there any clothes... only a couple of socks..... and ties...."

    Ray muttered. "He must have packed his bags and left... knowing we will get here soon...."

   "Any idea of where he went?" Moby shrugged.

     Ray shook his head. "We'll have to inform all the exit points in town and send a clear picture of him to search in all the vehicles leaving town and the subway... And to the neighbouring towns as well...."

***

     The sun rays of dawn had set already, though there was still  not a single word on Pete Finlay yet. Ray had deprived himself of sleeping, surviving on coffee till he'd find one.

      Amber had gone back to the hospital to look after her brother and Ray placed some cops at the door for security.  

     Moby yawned, stretching his arms wide as he woke up from his deep slumber on the couch. He wiped his face, "Any news?"

     "None yet," Ray shook his face. He looked down, " I can't believe he did this to us, Mokshit.... He was like a kid to me..."

    Moby nodded, "Guess it was all the part of this mania he had... Maybe he joined the forces for the same reason too..."

    "Probably ..." Ray sighed. He got up  up from his chair and walked to the window. He looked out to the snowy mountains twinkling at the touch of sun rays. " He wanted to frame Amber... That's why he didn't use a gun when he attacked her... But tried to choke and.....break her neck...."

     Moby agreed." Yeah ....he wanted to make it look like she committed suicide after we accused her....in hope that if he succeeded we'd believe him... "

    "God... we probably would have then...." Ray muttered, and dug his face in his hand as he mused, exhausted.

    Just then the land phone at the police station shrieked. Ray went over, and picked it up.

    " Detective Ray Andrews from Cheyenne police point.... Who's this?" He muttered to the phone. Moby saw his expression gradually change as he kept listening to to what the person on the other line said. He sighed, as he finally cut the line.