Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction; United States -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction
“Now, me friend, I don’t think that is the same question at all.”
“Well, answer it, if you do or don’t think the question was worded just
the same.”
“I did not hear the last question. I was thinking of how to answer the
first one. Now, me friend, I will ask you to repate the last once more,
and I might answer them both.”
“I suppose we must have patience with you, for I don’t think you were
ever in court before, and I know it is hard for you. Now, once more, I
ask you about Officer Pearson’s conduct as an officer. That is a short
question and you should be able to answer it without hesitation.”
“I will say that I think the job is a hard one for me, and I will give
you my club and quit at once.”
“Sit down, Pat! Sit down there and answer these questions the attorney is
asking you, or I shall fine you for contempt of court.”
“Could I get off—out of that fine for contempt of court—as aisy if I told
the truth?”
“I am asking you a question now, and I wish you would answer.”
“Faith, and you have been asking me some questions I didn’t know how
to answer, and I am only a ignorant Irishman, and you are one of the
know-alls, or should be. I’ve always thought that if annything ever came
up with a business consideration, ‘I will ask me lowyer about that.’ This
is the first time I have ever been smart enough to talk to one of them
lowyers.”
“Well, you are taking your time to talk. You must like our company.”
“I like to hear a smart man talk, indade I do.”
“Well, the court would like to know if this is a trial, or a
complimentary case.”
“Your honor, I am trying to get the witness to answer my questions.”
“Put the question to him again.”
“Now pay attention, Pat, and we will soon be through with you.”
“Couldn’t you turn me loose now? I am feeling sick, me man. I am sick.”
“Get him a drink.
“Here is water. Take this, Pat. Drink some water. You are all right now.”
“You know everything in the books, but you don’t know how a fellow feels
inside, and plase don’t talk to me—plase don’t. I wonder, if I would
pray, would I feel better? I am going to pray, gentlemen. I belave me
toime has come right now.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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