The room was bigger than you would think. Nice fireplace, nice chairs, nice table, nice curtains, the only problem was the body in the middle of the floor. Just laying there in his own pile of blood and stench. I walk in beside Sherlock and we both look at the body.
"So," he says. "like old times?" I nod and start walking to the other side of the room. Heel to toe all the way to the body and I keep track.
"Twelve." I noted.
After a few minutes of taking in the surrounding area and the body, Sherlock speaks.
"Would you like to go first or shall I?"
I started. "He was obviously in a hurry. His tie is half done and his shoes are untied. The bag over there," I point to the other side of the room, where a half packed bag is. "also indicates that he was in a hurry seeing that none of his shirts are folded properly and everything in it is a mess. His hair is combed nicely suggesting that he was on his way to a business meeting or something else official." I notice his suit coat on the chair which had a very distinct pin on it. "He's part of the federal government from the United States of America and was about to leave back to his country when someone shot him." Blood was seeping out of his nice white shirt. Recently ironed and pressed, perhaps by a professional. His pants were the same, and his coat. "He obviously knew his attacker and welcomed him in the door."
"Him?"asked the inspector.
"The bullet entered in his upper chest, if someone smaller than him had fired the gun then the bullet would be lower down and we could have probably saved him. However, that's not the case and therefore, we are looking for a man, caucasian, about the same height as him and the same foot size." Sherlock pointed out.
"The man was also part of the government but as to who's I do not know." I looked over at the coffee table and saw a newspaper. The headline GOVERNMENT FROM THE WORLD MEETING IN LONDON TO DISCUSS NASA PROJECTS. "He obviously knew the man so he could not have been from here or anywhere else on the east side of the world. Not from South America either, so either Canadian or American. Unless-" I paused and looked at Sherlock.
The moment I set my eyes on him he turned to the inspector. "Did anyone find a briefcase or sort of handbag anywhere?"
"Yes." and within a second of asking, Sherlock had the bag in his hands and was looking for.
"Found it!" he exclaimed
"Found what?" the inspector trying to look over his shoulder.
"A plane ticket saying that he has been here before." I finished. "Sherlock his hands are pointing up."
Without taking his eyes of the bag and still rummaging through it. "And?"
"No one dies on their back with their hands up." I look at him straight in the eyes. He knew what I was thinking, and he knew that I was right.
We weren't just looking for a killer anymore. We were looking for a prized possession that this man had taken from America and brought here to the meeting for someone very important. We were looking for a twenty-five million dollar watch for Sherlock's brother.