“We have extracted the bullet,” said Broughton, the Home Office doctor. “As might have been expected, it fits the empty cartridge, and is exactly similar to the other five.”
“What a pity,” said Collins.
The doctor looked at him in surprise.
Sinclair gave a laugh.
“Nothing straightforward satisfies Collins,” he said. “He loves mystery. He would have liked you to have found a rifle bullet, or no bullet at all.”
“There’s no accounting for tastes,” said the other. “For my part I am glad enough when I find things fitting in.”
“And that’s all?” said Collins.
“There’s one thing I can’t make out, it’s probably nothing, but it’s queer. I have had a very extensive experience with this sort of thing, as you know. The bullet had only just penetrated the brain. Now, a revolver bullet of that calibre, fired at the distance it was, should have smashed the back of the skull, and made a dreadful wound. It is the heavy Army type. I sent a policeman for a sheep’s head, which is harder than the human skull, and fired at it in the back garden. Look at the mess it has made,” and he showed them the gruesome sight.
“Have you any suggestion to make?” said Sinclair.
“The only thing I can think of is that a half charge was used to deaden the noise. But then, why put a half charge in one cartridge only?”