The Benson Murder Case Read Online Free PDF Page B

the wainscot a short distance from the floor near the drapery of the window nearest the hall-way. “We found the expelled shell, and Captain Hagedorn’s got the bullet.”
    He turned to the firearms expert.
    â€œHow about it, Captain? Anything special?”
    Hagedorn raised his head slowly, and gave Heath a myopic frown. Then, after a few awkward movements, he answered with unhurried precision:
    â€œA ·45 army bullet—Colt automatic.”
    â€œAny idea how close to Benson the gun was held?” asked Markham.
    â€œYes, sir, I have,” Hagedorn replied, in his ponderous monotone. “Between five and six feet—probably.”
    Heath snorted.
    â€œâ€˜Probably,’” he repeated to Markham with good-natured contempt. “You can bank on it if the Captain says so…. You see, sir, nothing smaller than a ·44 or ·45 will stop a man and these steel-capped army bullets go through a human skull like it was cheese. But in order to carry straight to the woodwork the gun had to be held pretty close; and as there aren’t any powder marks on the face, it’s a safe bet to take the Captain’s figures as to distance.”
    At this point we heard the front door open and close, and Dr. Doremus, the Chief Medical Examiner, accompanied by his assistant, bustled in. He shook hands withMarkham and Inspector O’Brien, and gave Heath a friendly salutation.
    â€œSorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” he apologised.
    He was a nervous man with a heavily seamed face and the manner of a real-estate salesman.
    â€œWhat have we got here?” he asked, in the same breath, making a my face at the body in the chair.
    â€œYou tell us, Doc,” retorted Heath.
    Dr. Doremus approached the murdered man with a callous indifference indicative of a long process of hardening. He first inspected the face closely—he was, I imagine, looking for powder marks. Then he glanced at the bullet hole in the forehead and at the ragged wound in the back of the head. Next he moved the dead man’s arm, bent the fingers, and pushed the head a little to the side. Having satisfied himself as to the state of
rigor mortis
, he turned to Heath.
    â€œCan we get him on the settee there?”
    Heath looked at Markham inquiringly.
    â€œAll through, sir?”
    Markham nodded, and Heath beckoned to the two men at the front windows and ordered the body placed on the davenport. It retained its sitting posture, due to the hardening of the muscles after death, until the doctor and his assistant straightened out the limbs. The body was then undressed, and Dr. Doremus examined it carefully for other wounds. He paid particular attention to the arms; and he opened both hands wide and scrutinised the palms. At length he straightened up and wiped his hands on a large coloured silk handkerchief.
    â€œShot through the left frontal,” he announced. “Direct angle of fire. Bullet passed completely through the skull. Exit wound in the left occipital region—base of skull—you found the bullet, didn’t you? He was awake when shot, and death was immediate—probably never knew what hit him…. He’s been dead about—well, I should judge, eight hours; maybe longer.”
    â€œHow about twelve-thirty for the exact time?” asked Heath.
    The doctor looked at his watch.
    â€œFits O.K…. Anything else?”
    No one answered, and after a slight pause the Chief Inspector spoke.
    â€œWe’d like a post-mortem report to-day, doctor.”
    â€œThat’ll be all right,” Dr. Doremus answered, snapping shut his medical case and handing it to his assistant. “But get the body to the mortuary as soon as you can.”
    After a brief hand-shaking ceremony, he went out hurriedly.
    Heath turned to the detective who had been standing by the table when we entered.
    â€œBurke, you ’phone to Headquarters to call for the body—and tell ’em to get