Our victim was spread too awkwardly on the floor for him to have been simply knocked out by a piece of falling debris. He could have died from the smoke, but the fire had not traveled much beyond the bed. I cleaned the grime from my own spectacles with my handkerchief and moved to where I could examine him more closely. That’s when I saw the bullet holes. One entered through the back of his head, ranged downward, and removed the lower portion of his face. The other shot had been fired into his back.
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