(Evidence) Fractured Bullet

The 4.46 calibre was widely used with the Belle-Magrave rifle, a Revacholian manufacturer. The B-M dominated the battlefields of the Insulindian theatre of the Antecentennial Revolution, 50 years ago.

Incidentally, you have just such a rifle with you. The dusty old thing you found hidden in the basement below the commercial area. It's unusable, sadly. If it were, the bullet would probably fit the chamber.

Is anyone still making these rifles?

No, but Zieleger, a major firearm manufacturer, ended up with a surplus after the war, so there are still a lot of these old military rifles floating around, usually broken. The quality was appalling.

Who uses Belle-Magrave rifles these days?

Antiques enthusiasts, guerrilla fighters in distant countries, a few lucky Jamrock bangers. You're looking for the same thing you found in that hidden weapons cache -- only in working order.

"Hmm..." The lieutenant jots something down in his notebook. "What are you thinking? Bullet?"

Back at the station, the lieutenant is standing at a counter, diligently filling out paperwork to hand over to a tired records clerk.

You should share your findings with him as soon as possible.

Antiques enthusiasts, guerrilla fighters in distant countries, a few lucky Jamrock bangers. You're looking for a well-preserved antique, most likely.

You can't remember what happened last week -- what makes you think you're going to remember arcane firearm models?

"What do I do with you, bullet?"

"What?" The lieutenant steps closer.

"I said: What do I do with you, bullet?"

"Well, if I was the bullet -- which I'm not -- I would say: find the weapon that shot me."

"I don't know..."

"If we find who owns it, we will have likely found who used it -- possibly to kill our victim."

"In conclusion: the more we know about this bullet of yours, the better."

"Good idea."

The squished little thing has no idea.

I know! You should find the gun that shot this bullet.

Eat it!

But the bullet is not edible, sadly.

It's my friend, I'm gonna start talking to it. It will keep me company.

But bullets don't talk.

Yeah, what are you, crazy? Bullets can't talk. They don't have emotions. A bullet can't keep you company.

Sell it for profit!

Who would want this used bullet?

Find the gun that shot it!

That sounds like something a police detective would do. First you should to learn all you can about this little guy!

Then find the gun that shot it, and the person who that gun belongs to -- he used it to kill your victim. Neato!

The bullet is safely sealed away in a plastic bag bearing the RCM stamp. Kim has filled out the label on the bag with the item number, case number, and date and location the bullet was found.

Beside his orderly handwriting, the bullet looks especially sad. Like a tiny, shrivelled head of cauliflower.