Chapter 7
AT BREAKFAST the following morning Stone asked Mabel if he should make a ferry reservation for his trip to Belfast.
“Well,” Mabel said, “you won’t need a reservation going over to the mainland, and you won’t get one coming back. Too many folks are arriving today for the summer, and the ferry’s been booked up for weeks.”
“Is there an airport in Belfast?” Stone asked.
“Yup. Bigger than ours, too.”
“Okay, I’ll fly,” he said.
“I’ll come with you,” Dino chipped in. “I don’t have anything else to do.”
Lance spoke up. “Now that I’ve got Dick’s computer up and running, I’m going to check out some things. Holly, I’d like you here with me to see what I’m doing. You’ll find the knowledge useful, eventually.”
“Okay by me,” Holly said, rubbing Stone’s leg with her toe under the table.
Stone looked at his watch. “I’d better get a weather forecast,” he said, getting up from the table.
STONE AND DINO LANDED at the Belfast airport at 9:30 and took a cab to the Waldo County Courthouse. Stone found the probate office, filed Dick’s will and was sworn in as his executor. By 10:30, he had all the necessary documents for disbursing Dick’s estate. He and Dino walked outside and found a bench in the sunshine where they could wait for the inquest to begin.
Shortly, Sergeant Young appeared with an envelope and handed it to Stone. “Morning,” he said to Stone. “Here are the photographs of the scene, the autopsy report, the ballistics report and a copy of my report. Will you have anything to say at the inquest?”
“I’ll take a look at your material and then decide,” Stone said.
“Tell the coroner who you are,” the trooper said. “See you in the small courtroom downstairs.” He walked back into the courthouse.
Stone opened the envelope, and he and Dino began poring over its contents. The ballistics report confirmed that the gun in Dick’s hand had killed all three, and the photographs were competently taken and in color.
Stone picked up an autopsy photograph, a closeup of Dick’s head. He pointed at Dick’s forehead. “Look at that,” he said.
THE CORONER CALLED the inquest to order at five minutes past eleven. There were no more than half a dozen attendees, one of whom, a young woman with a notebook, appeared to be a reporter from the local press. They had passed a television crew in the hallway outside the courtroom.
Sergeant Young was called as the first witness and gave twenty minutes of testimony, using a large television set to display the photographs of the scene. When he was done, the medical examiner gave the autopsy results and agreed with the trooper’s assessment of the events.
“Is there anyone else who has relevant testimony?” the coroner asked.
Stone stood up. “Your Honor, my name is Stone Barrington. I am the attorney for Richard Stone and executor of his estate. I have some questions for the medical examiner, if I may.”
The coroner instructed the M.E. to take the stand again.
“Doctor, I refer to your photograph number four taken at the autopsy. May we have that on the screen, Your Honor?”
A technician brought up the photograph.
“Doctor, as part of your autopsy, did you place a rod or other object in the head wound to determine the trajectory of the gunshot?”
“I did,” the doctor replied. “I inserted a twelve-inch rod into the wound.”
“And what angle did the rod indicate?”
“It indicated that the gunshot came from the left side of the head and from an elevated angle of fifteen degrees.”
“Was the wound a contact wound? That is, was the barrel of the gun held against the head before firing?”
“Yes, it was a contact wound.”
Stone held his left hand, finger pointing, to his head and elevated his elbow. “So, in order to create that trajectory, the gun would have to have been held in this fashion?”