“It’s impossible,” Potts exclaimed, “A camera can’t take a picture of a shot and leave out the gun.”
“Chemicals,” prompted Grover, “could make the smudge.”
“Then how about this?”
Potts had another film spliced onto the first one. He reeled it in at regular motion picture speed, and out of the speakers came the strange and abrupt recording of a loud, sharp, detonating sound, as near to the discharge of a pistol as any of them had heard.
Taken away by the ventilating system, the smoke of the police shot was out of the way, the screen was clear to all, and they saw that the camera had recorded light from the direction of the office, an abrupt flash. With it, the detonation.
“Kangaroos and apes dancin’ on a film where none could be,” Tip summed up, baffled, “and now—a gunshot where the camera shows us there can’t be any gun.”
Even Grover, usually calm, looked disconcerted, and yet a little bit excited.
“Maybe,” he declared, and turned to Roger, “but here is one more ‘sound’ to add to your list. And I feel sure that out of that list, either as it is, or when you complete it up to date, will come the hint that will enable me to clear up everything.”
Over-confidence?
Roger hoped not.