America 1881: Legend of the West

The doctor responsible for McKinley's treatment quickly released a message to the media:

The bullet has been removed from Mr. President's body. He is now in quite stable condition and will wake up soon.

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

Although there are some differences between his political views and those of today's president.

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

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

But just as he was preparing to continue his mountaineering trip, he received new news.

The president began to suffer from a high fever, and his condition took a turn for the worse.

The bullet under McKinley's chest was indeed removed, but there was still another bullet in his abdomen.

The doctor could not find this bullet under the dim light.

Now, there's inflammation.

"What's going on?" Secretary Cortliu asked anxiously, staring at the doctor.

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

Of course he knew why.

But now it's too late.

It is a small thing to be labeled as a "quack doctor" for the rest of his life. He really cannot bear the responsibility for curing the current president of the United States to death.

"We will study it and we should be able to get the results soon." The doctor said.

After consultations with several "famous doctors" and a period of frustration, poor President McKinley finally breathed his last.

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

The worst thing is that doctors attributed the president's death to his lack of exercise and being too obese, which led to the inability to effectively recover from the wound.

McKinley knew better than to "raise the coffin" and directly jump up to fight with these quacks.

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

The person responsible for interrogating him was the police chief of Fabro.

In the dim interrogation room, the man was lifted out of the prison by two people and pressed onto the wooden chair opposite the director.

His clothes were disheveled, his face was still stained with blood, his forehead was highly swollen, and there were large black spots around his eyes.

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

The agents hated this guy, because what he did might cost them their jobs.

"Name?"

"Leon Czolgosz."

"age?"

"28 is old."

During the question-and-answer interrogation, the assassin was very calm, did not hide any information about himself, and spoke frankly.

Czolgosz came from a Polish family. He and his brother were employed by the United States Steel and Cable Company, but both lost their jobs in a strike.

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

"Because he deserves to die," Czolgosz said expressionlessly.

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

Unexpectedly, Czolgosh burst out laughing.

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

"Well-loved? Huh? Hahahahahaha!" He laughed wildly, "Are you talking about those people holding signs outside to protest?"

"He is the president, but the president of those plutocrats! Not mine, nor the people at the bottom!"

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

He glanced at the prison guard at the door:

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

The prison guard understood, rushed through the door and punched Czolgosz who was still laughing wildly.

It wasn't until the laughter in the interrogation room was replaced by a muffled sound and there was gradually silence that the police chief walked in again.

Czolgosz slumped in his chair and was speechless in pain.

The director waved his hand and signaled the prison guard to go out.

He walked over to the prisoner with a glass of water.

Czolgosh raised his head and glanced at the director: "I don't want water, thank you."

"Clap!"

A full glass of water was thrown into Czolgosz's face.

"Here, I have the final say, so for your own sake, don't say anything irrelevant to the interrogation." The police chief's face was expressionless and his voice was cold.

So, during the rest of the interrogation, Czolgosz never said a word again.

No matter how threatened the police chief was, he remained silent.

The progress of the interrogation was excruciatingly slow.

More than a week has passed.

The police chief knew basically nothing about the assassin except his name, age and place of origin.

How the assassin got the gun and how he got into the concert hall is completely unclear.

The news of Mr. President's death also spread quickly.

The police chief was in a hurry.

He knew that if he continued like this, he would not be able to explain himself to the federal government, and he would be called a "bastard" for the rest of his life.

The police chief shouted hysterically from the interrogation room:

"Tell me! Where did you get your gun? Do you have any accomplices?"

Czolgosz remained silent as always, just staring up at the ceiling,

The director was preparing to let his men continue to use some means to make the assassin speak.

"Tuk, duh."

Someone knocked on the interrogation room door.

The director opened the door angrily.

A man in a suit appeared at the door.

He wore a pair of black-rimmed pince-nez glasses and carried a gray leather bag in his hand.

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

"you are?"

"I am Mr. Czolgosz's lawyer, Mr. Director," the person said.

"Lawyer? Why does this person have a lawyer? I haven't heard of it from the court?" The director looked suspicious.

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

The director took a closer look and immediately understood the identity of the visitor.

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

"I will help you draw some conclusions you want from him." Case leaned into the director's ear and whispered.

The director suddenly understood and immediately let the lawyer in and called everyone else in the interrogation room to come out, leaving the lawyer and Czolgosz in the interrogation room.

"I am the lawyer assigned to you by the court."

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

The assassin glanced at the lawyer expressionlessly.

But his eyes finally stopped on the cigarette.

"Give me a cigarette," he said to the lawyer, raising his tightly bound hands.

The lawyer put a cigarette into Czolgosh's mouth, took out a match, and lit the cigarette for Czolgosh.

Czolgosh sucked the cigarette in his mouth greedily.

The lawyer moved a chair across from the assassin and sat down.

"McKinley is dead," the lawyer said, pulling the remaining half of the cigarette out of Czolgosz's mouth, throwing it on the ground, and stamping it out with his foot.

One second, Czolgosz was still savoring the smell of tobacco, and the next second after hearing the news of the president's death, he burst out laughing again.

Laughing and coughing.

"Cough! Cough, die well! Die well!"

Lawyer Case looked at the assassin with a puzzled expression:

"I remind you, Mr. Czolgosz, that means you may have to fight for your life."

Czolgosh ignored him and just laughed.

The wounds on his face were scabbed.

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

"However, I have a way to save your life." The lawyer said to the assassin.

"Oh? Can you prevent me from dying?" Czolgosz turned his eyes to Lawyer Keyes.

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

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

"Have you ever interacted with him, or with his people?" the lawyer asked slowly. "It is known that there are some disputes between him and Mr. President."

Czolgosh stared at the lawyer with interest:

"You mean to let me bring him in, right?"

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

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

"I have prepared all the evidence. If you agree, you will not only avoid the death penalty, but also get a large amount of money and fly away."

Czolgosz looked at the stack of papers and smiled:

"Sounds good."

The lawyer felt that the prisoner in front of him was very wise, and it seemed that there was no need to say a long paragraph of his carefully prepared speech.

He put the papers back into his bag.

"Give me another cigarette," Czolgosz suddenly said.

The lawyer took out another cigarette, walked to the assassin's side, and bent down.

Suddenly, Czolgosh raised his tied hands and hit the lawyer in the face like a hammer.

"boom!"

The lawyer staggered and fell to the ground.

His pince-nez flew out and fell into the corner, the lenses shattering on the floor.

Czolgosh laughed crazily again:

"Let your master give up this idea!"

"I have never met Mr. Chen, but I know that he is different from other capitalists."

"He at least treats workers as human beings! Improve workers' treatment and wages!"

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

"The end of you and your master is coming soon! By then, your fate may not be like mine!"

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

They beat Czolgosz again.

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

The method of execution is the electric chair.

On the same day, Theodore Roosevelt succeeded McKinley and became the youngest president in the history of the United States.