Richmond Principe was beginning to realise that some things were better left undone, or not done at all. The bullet, a .22-calibre, had hit his chest at close range and exited through his back. “I don’t know the guy who shot me,” he said.
“That right… You think you could try to remember a few weeks back?”
Richmond gave the officer a look and shook his head as if he were thinking real hard.
“You tell your friend that he’d get a cut of the insurance money?”
Richmond rubbed the back of his neck saying, “It weren’t like that.”
By Vincent Holland
Inspired by the case of Richmond Principe – http://poststar.com