Free Imperfect Killing by Luke Delaney Page B

.357 Colt Python with a six-inch barrel. Again he raised it to his face and inhaled, but again all he could detect was oil and metal.
    ‘Who cleans and maintains these weapons?’ he asked Mendham.
    ‘I do,’ he proudly answered.
    ‘How often?’
    ‘After every use,’ he told him.
    ‘Every use?’
    ‘Every use,’ Mendham confirmed.
    ‘Straight away?’
    ‘Straight away,’ he assured him. ‘I have to – in case they need to be used again.’
    Sean nodded his understanding and returned to examining the revolvers, his eye drawn to a .357 Combat Magnum with a four-inch barrel. He lifted it to his face and inhaled before slowly turning to Benton and offering him the weapon to smell and then doing the same to Mendham. The props manager’s eyes widened. ‘Cordite,’ he announced.
    ‘This gun’s been fired recently,’ Sean confirmed, ‘and not cleaned after use.’
    ‘That’s impossible,’ Mendham argued. ‘That gun hasn’t been used since the last episode of
Franks and Grimstone
– a London-based cop show. Perhaps you saw it?’
    ‘I did,’ Benton told him. ‘It was terrible.’
    ‘You smelt it yourself,’ Sean reminded him. ‘This weapon’s been fired.’ He popped the chamber of the weapon open and peered along the inside of the barrel. ‘This barrel’s been bored,’ he continued.
    ‘Of course,’ Mendham admitted. ‘Most of them have – otherwise the flash when it’s fired wouldn’t look realistic.’
    ‘Bored, but not rifled,’ he added.
    ‘No need to rifle the barrel of a gun that’s only going to be used to fire blanks,’ Mendham explained.
    ‘But this weapon can fire live cartridges?’ Sean asked.
    ‘Well, yes,’ Mendham admitted, ‘but only with low charges – otherwise you risk blowing the gun to pieces.’
    Sean and Benton looked at each other. They’d both seen the footage of the weapon used to kill Sue Evans almost blowing apart when it was fired in her face at point blank range. Sean slowly placed the revolver back on the table.
    ‘We need to seize that,’ Benton told him.
    ‘Not yet,’ Sean insisted.
    ‘It could be evidence,’ Benton argued.
    ‘The killer wore gloves – remember? All we got is a gun that’s been fired.’
    ‘Forensics can match it to the bullet,’ Benton suggested.
    ‘Maybe – maybe not,’ Sean replied. ‘The barrel’s not rifled and the bullet’s badly misshapen. They can’t guarantee anything and even if they could all it proves is we’ve got the right weapon, but it doesn’t
put
anyone with it.’
    ‘But it’s evidence,’ Benton repeated. ‘We can’t leave it here.’
    ‘It’s more than evidence,’ Sean told him coldly. ‘It’s bait.’
    ‘I’m not sure about this,’ Benton shook his head. ‘This is not normal procedure.’
    ‘The best police work rarely is,’ Sean assured him before turning to Mendham. ‘Tell me – do you have any black boiler suits down here, and gloves and black ski masks or balaclavas?’
    ‘Of course,’ Mendham replied. ‘What would we dress our bank robbers in if I didn’t?’
    ‘Where d’you keep them?’ asked.
    ‘Over in the black-clothing section,’ Mendham explained. ‘I find it easier to organize them based on colour.’
    ‘Show me,’ Sean demanded.
    ‘Very well,’ he agreed. ‘This way.’ They followed Mendham as he weaved his way passed racks of coats, jackets, hats and every other prop imaginable until they reached a corner of the basement full of black clothing. Mendham ran his finger along the crowded racks until he came to what they were looking for. ‘Here they are – black boiler suits, various sizes.’
    ‘Any missing?’ Sean queried.
    Mendham sighed then counted them quickly, silently mouthing the numbers as he did so. ‘No,’ he declared. ‘All present and correct.’
    Sean thought it all through for a second, trying to identify anything he hadn’t yet covered. ‘The day Sue Evans was killed,’ he asked, ‘were you already at work?’
    ‘No,’