A man dead by kicks (2nd part)

I come with the second part of the story by Pablo Palacios that I'm translating. The first part is in here: http://ni-en-pintura.blogspot.com/2009/10/man-dead-by-kicks.html Again, I must say that english is my second language and that if anybody finds a huge and unforgivable mistake, you should please tell me.

The first thing that comes up between the people who work in this, it’s the method. This is very well known for the university students, the normal students, the ones in schools and, in general, all the people that are going to be useful in their lives. There are two methods: deduction and induction (see Aristotle and Bacon).
The first one; I didn’t find the deduction interesting. I have been told that the deduction is a way to investigate that goes from the known thing to the least known. Good method: I confess. But I knew few about the issue and I had to pass the page.
The induction is something wonderful. It goes from the least know to the known… How is it? I can’t remember it quite well… Anyway, who knows about this stuff? If I have said well, this is the method par excellence. When you know few, you have to induce. Induce, man.

Once I was decided, I lighted the pipe and with this terrific weapon of induction in my hand, I was unresolved, without knowing what to do.

“Well, and how do I apply this wonderful method?” I asked myself.
This was the result of not having a depth study in logic! I was going to stay ignorant in the famous deal of the Escobedo and García streets just because of the damn laziness of the first years.

Discouraged, I took the Afternoon Daily, of January the thirteenth –it had never been off my table- and giving my well and full pipe energetic puffs, I started reading again the crime report that is in the beginning. I had to frown, like all man that’s a professional –a deep line in ones forehead is an unmistakable sign of attention!-

Reading, reading, there was a moment in which I was astonished.

Especially in the second to last paragraph, what said “This morning, the Commissioner of the 6th…” was the most wonderful thing. The phrase made my eyes sparkle: “The only thing that was known, by an accidental fact, is that the dead was a vicious” And I, by a secret force of intuition, that you can not understand, read like this: HE WAS A VISCIOUS, with incredibly big letters.

I think it was an Astartean revelation. The only point I could care about since then was to prove what kind of bad habit the Ramirez death had. Intuitively I had found out that he was… No, I don’t say it so I won’t turn the ladies against his memory.

And what I knew intuitively, I had to check with reason and, if it was possible, with evidence.

For this, I went to the Commissioner of the 6th, who could give me the revealing facts. The police authority hadn’t cleared up anything. He almost couldn’t understand what I wanted. After several explanations he said to me, while he scratched his frown.

“Oh!, yes… The business of the Ramirez guy… Look we were already discouraged about that crime. The thing was dark! But, take a sit; why don’t you sit sir? … As you already know, they brought him at about one and after two hours he died… the miserable. They took him two pictures, because of a case… some debt… Are you a relative of his? I give you my condolences, my most sincere…

“No sir” I said to him outraged “I haven’t even met him. I am a man that’s interested in justice” How the Commissioner would be tormented! I hurried so I wouldn’t inhibit him anymore.

“You have said two photographs. If I could see them…

The official opened a drawer in his desk and he rummaged between his papers. Then, he opened another one and rummaged another papers. In a third one, he finally found them.

And he was very nice:

“You are interested in this matter. Take them with you gentleman… But of course, you need to give them back” he said moving his head up and down at the same time he muttered the last syllables and showing me, happily, his yellow teeth.

I thanked him infinitely, saving the photographs.

“And tell me, mister Commissioner, couldn’t you remember any particular sign of the dead. Some fact that could reveal something?

“A sign… a fact… No, no. Well, he was completely vulgar man. Like of my height” The Commissioner was a bit tall “fat. But a particular sign… no… not one that I remember, at least”

As the Commissioner couldn’t say anything else, I went out thanking him again.

I went fast to my house, locked myself on the studio, lighted my pipe and took out the photographs which with that fact of the newspaper were wonderful documents.

I was sure I couldn’t get any others and my resolution was to work with what fortune had put in my hands.

It will continue...

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Un grupo literario, casi nuevo, del Ecuador.