The doctor in charge of McKinley's treatment soon released a message to the media:

The bullet in Mr. President's body has been removed, and he is now in a fairly stable state and will soon wake up.

Vice President Roosevelt, who had rushed to the scene after an emergency vacation, breathed a sigh of relief after receiving the news.

Although his political views are different from those of today's president in some places.

But he didn't want his colleague to die like that.

After all, McKinley's starting point has always been basically from the American perspective.

But just as he was about to continue his mountaineering trip, he got new news.

Mr. President began to fall into a high fever, and the situation took a turn for the worse.

The bullet under McKinley's chest was indeed removed, but he still had one in the abdomen.

This bullet, the doctor did not find in the dim light.

Now, it's inflamed.

"What the hell is going on?" The secretary Kotlyu asked anxiously, staring at the doctor.

The doctor himself was anxious like an ant on a hot pot.

Of course he knew why.

But it's too late now.

It is a trivial matter to hang the brand of "quack" for the rest of his life, and he really cannot afford to kill the current president of the United States.

"We should get the results very quickly." So said the doctor.

After the consultation of several "famous doctors", after a period of tossing, poor President McKinley finally swallowed his breath.

The president, who wanted to bring America to glory, died in the first year of the 20th century, and it was not heroic at all.

Worst of all, doctors blamed the president's death on his lack of exercise and obesity, which led to the inability to recover from wounds.

McKinley knew that he was afraid that he would not "open the coffin", so he jumped up and fought with these quacks.

And the man who assassinated the president was taken to the local police station.

He was interrogated by Fabro's police chief.

In the dimly lit interrogation room, the man was lifted out of the cell by two men and pressed against a wooden chair opposite the chief.

His clothes were disheveled, his face was still bloodied, his forehead was swollen high, and there was a large patch of black blue around his eyes.

The Assassin was severely beaten after being subdued by Secret Service agents and plainclothes men at the scene.

The agents hated this guy because he might have lost his job for what he did.

"Name?"

"Leon Chogosh."

"Age?"

"28 years old."

During the question-and-answer interrogation, the Assassin was very calm, did not hide any information from him, and was outspoken.

Jogosz comes from a Polish family, and he and his brother were employed by the American Steel & Cable Company, but both lost their jobs in a strike.

"Why did you assassinate the president?" The police chief asked.

"Because he's damned." Jogosh said with a blank face.

"Do you know what it means to assassinate a beloved democratically elected president?" The director's finger tapped lightly on the table, "You will be sentenced to death, child." ”

Jogosh suddenly burst out laughing.

The blood stains and wounds on his face made him look a little hideous.

"Beloved? Yes? Hahaha! He laughed wildly, "You mean the people who are holding signs outside in protest?" ”

"He's the president, but the president of the plutocracy! It's not mine, it's not the people at the bottom! ”

The police chief stood up and walked out of the interrogation room.

He gave the guard at the door a look:

"I'm going to smoke a cigarette, and you go in and 'take care' of the prisoner."

The prison guard understood, and rushed through the door to throw an old punch at Jogosh, who was still laughing maniacally.

It wasn't until the laughter in the interrogation room was replaced by muffled grunts, and there was a gradual silence, that the police chief walked back inside.

Jogosh paused in his chair, unable to speak.

The chief waved his hand and motioned for the guards to go out.

With a glass of water, he walked over to the prisoner.

Jogosh glanced up at the director: "I don't want water, thank you." ”

"Smack!"

A whole glass of water was poured on Jogosh's face.

"Here, I'm in charge, so, for your own sake, don't say anything unrelated to the interrogation." The police chief was expressionless and his voice was cold.

So, in the ensuing interrogation, Jogosh never said a word again.

No matter how much the police chief threatened, he didn't say a word.

The pace of the trial was alarmingly slow.

More than a week has passed.

The Chief of Police knew little information about the Assassin's name, age, or nationality.

How the Assassins got their hands on the gun, or how they managed to get into the concert hall, is completely unclear.

And the news of Mr. President's death soon came out.

The police chief has a bunch.

He knew that if he continued like this, he would not be able to explain it to the federal government, not to mention the name of "straw bale", and he was afraid that he would have to carry it for the rest of his life.

From the interrogation room came the hysterical roar of the police chief:

"Say it! Where did you get your gun? Do you still have accomplices? ”

Jogosh, as always, didn't say a word, just stared up at the ceiling,

The Director was preparing to get his men to continue to use a little more to get the Assassin to speak.

"Tuk, tuk."

There was a knock on the door of the interrogation room.

The director angrily opened the door.

A man in a suit appeared in the doorway.

He wears a pair of black-rimmed snag-neck glasses and carries a gray leather bag.

The director looked the person in front of him up and down:

"You are?"

"I am Mr. Jogosh's lawyer, Mr. Director." The person who came said.

"Lawyer? How can this person have a lawyer? I haven't heard the court say that, huh? The director looked suspicious.

The lawyer took out a small card from his bag and handed it to the director.

The director looked at it and immediately understood the identity of the comer.

The person who came was a special lawyer for Standard Oil, Benito Case.

"I'll help you draw some conclusions from his mouth that you want." Keith leaned into the director's ear and whispered.

The director suddenly came to his senses, and immediately let the lawyer in, and beckoned all the others in the interrogation room to come out, leaving the lawyer and Jogosh in the interrogation room.

"I'm the lawyer the court assigned to you."

The lawyer placed the bag on the table, then took out a cigarette from it and handed it to Jogosh.

The assassin glanced at the lawyer with a blank expression.

But his gaze finally stopped at the cigarette.

"Smoke a cigarette." He said to the lawyer, holding up his tightly bound hands.

The lawyer shoved the cigarette into Jogosh's mouth, pulled out a match, and lit it for Jogosh.

Jogosh greedily snorted the cigarette in his mouth.

The lawyer moved a chair and placed it across from the Assassin and sat down.

"McKinley is dead." As he spoke, the lawyer pulled the remaining half of the cigarette out of Jogosh's mouth, threw it on the ground, and stomped it out with his foot.

One second Jogosh was still tasting the smell of tobacco, and the next second when he heard the news of the president's death, he immediately burst out laughing again.

Laughing and coughing.

"Ahem! Cough to death! Well dead! ”

Lawyer Case looked at the assassin in disbelief:

"I remind you, Mr. Jogosh, that means you may need a life for a life."

Jogosh ignored him, just laughing.

The wound on his face was scabbed.

It is a scar that forms again after the wound has been broken repeatedly.

"Still, I can save your life." The lawyer said to the Assassin.

"Oh? Can you keep me from dying? Joe Gosh turned his gaze to Lawyer Case.

"Do you know Chen Jianqiu?" The lawyer asked.

"I've heard of it, what's wrong?"

"Do you have anything in touch with him, or with his people?" The lawyer asked slowly, "As we all know, there are some fetters between him and Mr. President. ”

Jogosh stared at the lawyer with interest:

"You mean to let me bring him in, don't you?"

"Do you want to carry it alone? If you drag him into the water in court, I can defend you and find a way to exonerate you. ”

The lawyer pulled out a stack of papers from his bag and placed it in front of Jogosh.

"I've got the evidence ready, and if you agree, you'll not only be spared the death penalty, but you'll also get a lot of money and fly away."

Jogosh looked at the stack of papers and smiled:

"Sounds good."

The lawyer felt that the prisoner in front of him was very good, and it seemed that he did not need to say a long paragraph of his carefully prepared speech.

He put the papers back in his bag.

"Let's smoke again." Jogosh said suddenly.

The lawyer pulled out another cigarette, walked over to the Assassin's side, and bent down.

Suddenly, Jogosh picked up his bound hands and smashed them like hammers into the lawyer's face.

"Bang!"

The lawyer staggered two steps and fell to the ground.

His clip-on glasses flew out and fell into the corner, shattering the lenses.

Once again, Jogosh burst out laughing maniacally:

"Let your master die of this heart!"

"Mr. Chen and I have never known each other in our lives, but we know that he is different from other capitalists."

"He at least treats the workers as human beings! Improve the treatment and salary of workers! ”

"So you hate him, don't you? You want to get rid of him through my business, but you can't! ”

"The end of you and your master is near! When the time comes, you may not end up like me! ”

The police chief and prison guards outside the interrogation room heard the movement inside and immediately rushed in.

They beat Jogosh again.

Eventually, the 28-year-old assassin was sentenced to death by the court for intentional murder.

The way to do it is to be an electric chair.

And on the same day, Theodore Roosevelt, succeeding the dead McKinley, became the youngest president in American history.

(End of chapter)