“Thank you, Mr. Leslie. Sergeant Brace!” Sergeant Brace took his stand, very erect and soldierly in his blue uniform.
“On the day after the murder you visited Mr. Leslie’s farm, I believe.”
“I went to the farm on Tuesday, the twenty-fourth, in company with Police-Constable Collins, and made a thorough search of the premises. In a drawer in Mr. Leslie’s bedroom I found a Webley Service revolver, one chamber of which had been discharged. The other chambers were loaded and the gun had not been cleaned since it had last been fired.”
“You have the bullet which killed Mrs. Draycott?”
Brace held out his hand and displayed a bullet lying in the palm.
“Does it correspond with those used in the weapon you found at the farm?”
“It does.”
“You have the revolver in court?”
Police-Constable Collins stepped forward and handed a heavy Service revolver to the Coroner. “Thank you. Call Mr. Leslie.”
Leslie’s expression was one of blank consternation.