“With the theatre stickups,” said Drew. “The dynamiters and fur robbers,” said Johnny. “They require most time for their work.”
“You can’t both be right,” the sergeant grinned. “All I have to say is, you’ll have to scurry round and find out.
“This is our job. It’s a mighty big one. And the reward is large. Not alone the two thousand dollars, but tremendous acclaim by the people awaits your success.”
All this time Newton Mills, the veteran, had sat listening in silence.
“But the bullets?” he exclaimed. “How about the bullets?”
“What bullets?” The sergeant looked at him in surprise. “There was but one shot fired. You have that bullet.”
“On this last occasion, yes. But on other occasions, no. When the girl’s father was killed a random shot was fired. When this boy was beaten up,” he nodded toward Johnny, “a shot was fired. These bullets doubtless remain where they lodged. You are aware of the fact that through the use of forensic ballistics we have been able to convict many criminals. The bullets in this case are likely to prove of vast importance.”
“And are you equipped to handle that side of the case?” asked the sergeant.
“Equipped?” The veteran, Mills, opened his hands. They were empty. “We will need tools and instruments.”
“I have an expense account and access to the station equipment. You may draw upon these in my name. I will write you an order. Anything else?”