Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 12
Police Department, where I spent eleven years as a detective, specializing in homicides. Lieutenant Bacchetti, here, commands the detective squad at the Nineteenth Precinct of the NYPD, and Ms. Barker is a retired military police officer and chief of police in the state of Florida.” He didn’t mention Lance.
    â€œWell, that’s all very impressive,” the sergeant said. “I’m interested to know what you’ve learned about Mr. Stone’s state of mind, but do you have any other evidence that this was anything but a murder-suicide?”
    â€œTake a look at this,” Stone said, beckoning the trooper to the desk. He took a pencil from a coffee mug on the desk and placed it in the hole left by the bullet. “Note that the angle of the bullet’s trajectory was only about twenty degrees off the vertical. I think that might indicate someone standing over Mr. Stone and firing a bullet into his head. Also, in your scenario, he would have fired with his left hand, and he was right-handed.”
    â€œMy crime-scene investigator, an experienced man, concluded that Mr. Stone laid his head on the desk before firing the fatal shot. That would account for the angle. I didn’t know he was right-handed, but there was nothing to prevent him using his left hand.”
    â€œOur consensus, based on Mr. Cabot’s investigation into Mr. Stone’s state of mind in the days and weeks before his death, is that an unknown person shot him in the head with a silenced pistol, then went upstairs and shot his wife and daughter.”
    â€œYou’re entitled to your theory, Mr. Barrington, but my investigation has not found any reason to believe that any person on this island had a motive to kill this family. I should point out that they resided in London for many years and they came into contact with the locals only for a few weeks a year and that no one knows of any local who had any animosity toward the family. Indeed, they were very popular summer residents. Also, my investigation revealed that no summer residents had yet arrived on the island at the time of the deaths. Mr. Stone’s brother and his family arrived only yesterday—we have the ferry operator’s testimony for that—and only one aircraft was parked at the airstrip, that belonging to a local. The people who live nearest the strip tell us that no aircraft landed or took off on the day or the day before the deaths. It’s a small island; people pay attention to who comes and goes.”
    â€œDid you take any photographs of the crime scene?” Stone asked.
    â€œYes, but I didn’t bring them with me. If you come to the inquest, I’d be glad to show them to you, and the gun, as well.”
    â€œThank you, Sergeant. I appreciate your taking the time to come to the island to brief us. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    The trooper handed Stone an envelope. “Here’s the original of the death certificate,” he said. “You’ll need it to file the will for probate.”
    They shook hands, and the trooper left.
    Stone turned to the group with a questioning look.
    â€œThe sergeant has some good points,” Dino said. “He did his job.”
    â€œHe didn’t spend much time on state of mind,” Stone said.
    â€œI wouldn’t have spent much more time on that, in the circumstances,” Dino said.
    Holly spoke up. “You didn’t mention to the trooper that Caleb Stone had been disinherited by Dick. That’s motive.”
    â€œNot really. It would be motive if Caleb had known that he was about to be disinherited, but there is no indication of that. Caleb was very surprised to learn that Dick had made a new will. I’d be surprised to learn that they’d even communicated in recent months.”
    â€œI can check Caleb’s home and office phone records, as well as Dick’s,” Lance said.
    â€œYes,” Stone said, “I would like you to do
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