Dr. Poggioli: Criminologist (The Lost Classics Book 14) by T.S. Stribling

Author:T.S. Stribling [Stribling, T.S.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781932009248
Publisher: Crippen & Landru
Published: 2017-09-10T16:00:00+00:00

With that he went inside to the jury at the back end of the store. The psychologist could see him talking and gesticulating, and presently he came back with a smile of satisfaction on his brown face.

“Well, they had to swaller it.” He nodded. “They were fixin’ to return their verdict that old Jake was shot by Slewfoot, but now they’ve changed it to either Slewfoot or Finn Labby.”

“I believe you said Mr. Sanderson was shot twice,” observed the psychologist. “No, jest onct.”

“You will excuse me, but your original statement was twice,” insisted Poggioli.

“No; I said they shot at him twict—an’ they did—but the first shot missed him. They jest hit old man Jake one time.”

“Mm-m,” murmured the psychologist. “And where did the other bullet strike?”

“In the wall.”

“Were both bullets fired out of the same gun?”

“I don’t know—how could you tell?”

“Cut them out and compare them; if they’re the same caliber, with the same rifle marks on them, then one man shot both bullets and you can excuse the other man.”

“Shore, shore, that’s a fact, an’ it runs right alongside ol’ man Munro’s argument, too.”

“Who’s Munro?”

“The man who owns this store.”

“What’s his argument?”

“Why-y—er—derned if I know. He’s got a clippin’ out of a paper tellin’ how this thing ort to be done. He’s tryin’ to git the boys to dig out the balls, an’ Doctor Livermore is cuttin’ the ball out of the body, but the jury figgers since the bullet in the wall didn’t hit nobody, it don’t make no diff’runce. I see now it does an’ I believe I’ll step back an’ tell the boys what you say about it.”

This was carried out and Poggioli was again placed in the deputy’s stead at the door. The old negro woman edged up to him and said in a shaky voice—

“See dah, Mas’ Poggioli, you ’bout to git my Slewfoot out o’ dis trouble wid one word.”

“If the bullet in the corpse is different from the bullet in the wall, your son will be in worse trouble than ever,” cautioned the psychologist.

“Why?” asked the old woman, mystified.

“Because that will show both men shot at Mr. Sanderson.”

At this the old crone puckered up her brows and began a low praying that the two bullets would be alike when they were cut out.

Poggioli listened to this for a few moments and finally said—

“Aunt Rose, there is no use praying for the bullets to be something when they are cut out, because whatever they are, they are that now; and while the Lord might conceivably change a future condition, I should think it would be beyond even His power to change what has already happened.”

The old woman nodded.

“Yes, suh, yes, suh, Mas’ Poggioli!” She then went on mumbling, “Oh, Lawd, let dem bullets be jes’ alike an’ save po’ Slewfoot!”

Her prayer was interrupted by a white woman attempting to enter the door. When the psychologist explained that no one was allowed inside, she said she wanted to do some trading.

At this a heavy

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