Skeleton Dance

'Lucien, you wouldn't happen to know whether Bousquet was right- or left-handed, would you?” Gideon asked.

'As it happens, I would. We have some examples of his handwriting—receipts and the like—and they all show a backward-leaning slant; quite characteristic and unmistakable.'

'Backward leaning—so he was left-handed?'

'Yes.'

'I'm right-handed,” Roussillot said. “Shall I use my left hand to pull the trigger?'

'No, just do it the most natural way,” Gideon said. “We'll extrapolate.'

Roussillot, openly enjoying himself, settled his rounded form in the chair, rested the butt of the rifle on the floor in front of him, found that it was too close to allow him to set the other end against his chest, and moved it out another foot. “Like this? Which finger shall I use to pull the trigger?'

Gideon shrugged. “Just do what comes naturally.'

Roussillot readjusted the rifle and leaned forward to reach the trigger.

'Wait!” said the keenly watching Joly. “It's upside down.'

'Well, yes,” Roussillot said defensively, “it's only that it seems more natural that way. The rifle balances itself more comfortably. Also it makes it easier to pull—that is, to push—the trigger—” Abruptly, he realized what Joly was driving at. “The muzzle-stamp on his chest—it's not upside-down, it's right-side-up—the gunsight is above the muzzle!'

'That's right,” Gideon said, having scored his first point. “People who shoot other people do it that way, right side up; that's why the sight is where it is. But people who shoot themselves do it this way, the way you're doing it. It's possible to do it the other way, but the odds are against it.'

'The odds?” said Joly. “Gideon, if that's what you're basing—'

'Give me a chance to finish,” Gideon said. “Would you continue, Dr. Roussillot?'

'Continue what?” said Roussillot, who had begun to get up, thinking the demonstration was done.

'You haven't actually shot yourself yet.'

'Yes, please shoot yourself, Roussillot,” Joly said.

The pathologist sat down again, rearranged the rifle the way it had been before—upside down, butt on the floor, muzzle against his chest—and once more leaned forward to get to the trigger. It was a longer reach than he'd estimated and he had to shift himself to the front of the seat and hunch over the barrel to make it.

'I find that the most natural way would be to do it with my thumb,” he observed, “like this. I place my thumb inside the trigger guard. With my other hand I keep the muzzle against my chest. I lean over still a little more and push—'

'Stop,” Gideon said. “Hold that position if you can, just like that.'

Roussillot froze, except for his eyes, which he screwed up to look at Gideon.

'Okay,” Gideon said. “If you fired right now, what path would the pellet take?'

'It's somewhat hard to tell from this position,” said Roussillot, “but, frankly, I have no reason to think it would be any different from—'

'No, you're wrong,” Joly said excitedly. “I can see. It would enter on a downward path, not an upward one! By heaven, Gideon!'

'Downward?” exclaimed a flabbergasted Roussillot. “But how can that be? The butt rests on the floor, the barrel inclines upward—'

'Yes, yes,” Joly said, “but you incline forward and your body is hunched, curved, crouched over the weapon. The path through your body would be slightly downward, I assure you.” He looked at Gideon, his piercing eyes alight. “This changes everything. It means—'

'May I straighten up now?” asked Roussillot, his voice a little choked from hunching over.

Gideon put a hand on his shoulder. “Hold it just a second longer if you can, doctor. I want you to see something else. You notice that to reach the trigger you had to rotate—'

'I see!” Joly said, too impatient to let him finish. “By reaching with his right arm he turns his body counterclockwise a few degrees, so that when he pulls the trigger the muzzle is pointing not straight back through his chest at his spine, but slightly right-to-left—which is therefore the path that the projectile would necessarily follow.'

'Why, yes, you're right,” Roussillot said with dawning appreciation. “I can see that now; it's quite obvious, really. And in the case of a left-handed man it would be reversed. The projectile would travel from left to right.

” But in Bousquet's case,” said Joly, “it did neither; it flew straight back.” He had forgotten about Roussillot's no-smoking rule and lighted up. Roussillot, engrossed with trajectories, failed to notice.

'That's right,” Gideon said. “Add that to the facts that it was angled up, not down, and that the muzzle-stamp was wrong-way-around. Three separate things, and they all point away from suicide.'

'And toward homicide,” Joly said.

'And so one more lovely theory falls victim to squalid fact,” said Roussillot, laughing with satisfaction as he straightened up and propped the rifle back in its corner. “Remarkably done, Professor Oliver.'

'Oh, it's not that remarkable, really,” said Gideon honestly. “It's just that I happened to be part of a case that was a lot like this a few months ago. The King County medical examiner walked me through it just the way I did with you.'