| |
After a further brief inspection of the front veranda, Priestly returned to the club’s main meeting room. Now that the two interviews were complete, Atkins and Prem Singh were still in the dark about his intentions for the remainder of the afternoon.
“For whom did the bell ring that day?” Priestly asked as a purely rhetorical question. “Why did the colonel ring the bell?” Standing directly on top of the fallen victim’s chalk outline on the ground, he looked around the room. “Also, how did the colonel actually ring the bell?”
“Using the hammer, I....” David Atkins cut himself short when he realised his mistake.
“Exactly. The hammer is locked behind the reception. So what did the colonel use to ring the bell?”
“Maybe his fist,” Prem Singh proposed.
Almost immediately, Malcolm Priestly stepped forward three steps and hit the bell with his right fist. It barely made a sound. He hit it again much harder and then winced while rubbing his fingers. The sound was again feeble.
“Well, we can be certain that was not the way the colonel rang the bell. The sound was heard all the way back in the kitchen and in the library upstairs. There’s nothing else in this room that he could have used. Did the colonel have his walking stick with him that day?”
Atkins shook his head.
––––––––
Priestly directed both men to two chairs near the bell while he took off his jacket and slowly rolled up both sleeves to his elbows. When a perplexed Atkins looked at Prem Singh for some explanation, the doctor responded by touching his right forefinger to his lips and sitting back into his chair with a faint smile. He had obviously seen this before.
Priestly walked out of the room through the door on the right side into the rear garden, but returned after less than a minute. He paused at the doorway to look at the shiny bell from there and then slowly walked up to it. He touched the top of the bell near the tapering end which merged with the thick golden chain and then proceeded to move his fingers downwards.
Both Atkins and Prem Singh watched in silence as Priestly traced every name and letter embossed on the bell with his fingers. Going down on his knees for a second time that morning, he closely inspected the rim of the bell just above the ground.
Apparently satisfied, Priestly walked around the bell to the opposite side which faced the front garden. Again, he traced the names of the fallen soldiers with his fingers. About halfway to the bottom, Priestly stopped suddenly and let out what sounded like an excited grunt to Atkins. He spun around to have a quick look through the window at the front garden and then darted his eyes up at the ceiling. Still without any comment, Priestly moved his gaze downwards to the mantelpiece above the fireplace.
And there his gaze stopped.
To Atkins and Prem Singh, it appeared as if Priestly was fixated on the carved model of a wooden elephant atop the mantelpiece. It was located just to the left of the circular plate which covered the original bullet hole. Then Malcolm Priestly smiled and tapped the bell with his right forefinger. He was now grinning from ear to ear. “Gentlemen, I think we have a witness to the murder,” he announced. “You should come over and meet him now.”
David Atkins and Prem Singh jumped up from their chairs almost in unison. Since Atkins was sitting closer to the bell, he beat the doctor to it. In his excitement, Atkins collided with the bell and sent it swinging in the opposite direction. Priestly quickly grabbed the golden chain and brought it to a halt. Atkins started reading through the list of names etched on the bell.
Priestly gently tapped the first letter of one name located just above his shoulder. “Let me introduce you to Henry Davidson. Although dear Henry is not here in person with us now, he does have a lot to tell us about the events of that day.”
Although Atkins was closer to the bell, it was Prem Singh who noticed it first. The slight indentation on the surface of the bell at the edge of the letter ‘D’ was almost invisible. There was also an even fainter discolouration there which revealed the darker metal underneath the gold plating. “Does that mean anything?” the doctor asked.
“May I borrow your pen?” Priestly asked the doctor. “I’ll return it in a moment.”
Priestly took the pen given by Prem Singh and walked over to the mantelpiece. He looked up for a few seconds, spun around and walked up to one of the chairs. Priestly picked it up and plonked it directly to the left of the giant fireplace.
He jumped up on the chair and leaned forward to look closer at something on the carved wooden panel above the mantelpiece. Using the tail end of the pen, he started to scratch the surface of the wooden panel. And then with his other hand, Priestly appeared to pluck something from the panel.
“Thank you doctor,” Priestly said, jumping down from the chair and returning the pen. He then held up the retrieved object between his right thumb and forefinger. Small, bent and slightly golden in appearance, it was immediately recognised by both Atkins and Prem Singh. Prem Singh’s eyes widened in complete disbelief. As a surgeon during the Great War, he had seen hundreds of similar ones embedded in the bodies of the soldiers on his operating table.
“Good God,” Atkins whispered hoarsely. “How the devil did you find that? We had searched every inch of this room and found nothing.”
“Not your fault at all. I found it only because I was looking for it. It’s easy to miss.” Priestly pointed again to the small indentation on the giant bell. “It bounced off from there and got embedded in the wall.”
“So there must have been a shooter on this side of the room. Not the other side where John Harrison was standing.”
“There can be no doubt about it now,” Priestly confirmed, throwing the bullet into the air and catching it. “Remember what Edna Metcalf told us. She thought she heard a gunshot just before the bell rang. Then another gunshot after that. We now know why the bell rang that day. This little fellow hit the bell because the shooter missed. I think it was because the colonel was mostly obscured by the bell or he moved suddenly.”
“But he got lucky with the second shot?”
“I don’t think luck played much part the second time around.” Pocketing the bullet, Priestly walked over to the drawing on the floor. “I’m certain the colonel heard the bell and probably even heard the sound of the bouncing bullet hitting the wall near him. He became curious and stepped over to his right to look in the direction of the gunshot. That was his fatal mistake. In doing so, he exposed himself completely to the shooter.”
“I assume that’s why he fell over to his right,” Prem Singh said.
Priestly nodded and gestured in the direction of the rear garden with both hands. “Yes, he fell backwards after being hit by the second bullet. In the same direction it was travelling.”
“So this definitely exonerates John Harrison,” Atkins exclaimed. “Shall I arrange his release now?”
Malcolm Priestly stopped mid stride. “I think we should wait,” he said, surprising both Atkins and Prem Singh. “We still do not have the killer, only a suspect. I’ll talk to John Harrison myself tonight. I think he’ll understand. If news gets out that Harrison is out, Shah might get suspicious and flee. I think we’re done here for today. I’d like to visit the Hammond residence once more.”
“Do you wish to have another set of interviews?” Atkins asked.
“No. I just wanted to further discuss an investment opportunity with the younger Hammond. I also think we owe the poor fellow an update on the progress of the investigation. He’ll be relieved to know John Harrison is innocent.”