The policemen unlocked the handcuffs and pushed him into the chair. He watched them pull off their coats and caps and hang them on hooks along the walls. They rolled up their shirtsleeves with leisured deliberation, moving about silently. For a long while they neither spoke to him nor looked at him. Then all three of them came and stood in front of him.

Murphy picked at his teeth with the end of a dirty matchstick.

“I ain’t done nothing!” he said, looking from face to face.

“Come on. Quit stalling,” Lawson said. “Tell us all about it . . .”

“Mister, I swear before God . . .”

Lawson bared his teeth and bent forward quickly and gave his face a resounding slap with the naked, red palm of his hand. A flash of scarlet zipped past his eyes and his entire body leaped with rebellion. His lips felt frozen and numb; as they thawed, they began to ache and sting and bleed.

“Maybe that’ll help you to remember,” Lawson said.

“Mister, for real, I ain’t done nothing,” he mumbled, sobbing.

“What time did you leave Mrs. Wooten’s house?” Murphy asked.

“Just a little while before you-all come along in the car and picked me up,” he whimpered.

“Boy, you know what we mean! We mean earlier today!”

“I didn’t leave earlier today, mister . . .”

“You did! You went next door!”

“No, sir. I didn’t go next door.”

“Didn’t you climb through Mrs. Peabody’s window?”

“No, sir, mister! I ain’t never been over there!”

“Didn’t you go over to the Peabodys’ right after Mr. and Mrs. Wooten left this morning?” Johnson asked.

“No, sir, mister . . .”

Lawson turned to the others.

“He must’ve gone about ten o’clock. The doctor says they’ve been dead for nine hours . . .” Lawson turned back to him. “Now, listen, boy, you may as well tell us. You left about ten, didn’t you?”

“No, sir! Please, mister . . . I don’t know what you talking about . . .”

“What time did Mr. Wooten leave the house this morning?”

“A little before nine, sir.”

“And what time did Mrs. Wooten leave?”

“About nine-thirty, sir.”

“Nobody was in the house with you after nine-thirty?”

“No, sir. I was there by myself. But I didn’t leave.”

“You’re a cool one, aren’t you, boy?” Lawson asked.

“No, sir, mister.”

“You stayed right there in Mrs. Wooten’s house when we were in the Peabody home? You saw us investigating, didn’t you?”

“No, sir, mister! No, sir . . .”

Lawson struck him across the mouth. He cupped his face in his hands and leaned forward, moaning and sobbing. Johnson leaned over him, yelled in his ear.

“What did you use, boy? A hatchet?”

“I ain’t never killed nobody. Nobody . . . I swear, you-all got me wrong, mister.”

Murphy reached above his head and clicked on the electric light and the bright glow shone directly into his eyes. He blinked, his bloody lips hanging open.