...of the criminal mastermind...
“Who is this person?” Ms. Simone asked.
“I can’t tell,” said S.M., then added helpfully, “It’s my clothes.” A minute later, he elaborated: “My shoes. My cousin’s shoes. I have a hoodie like that too.”
It gets better...
She showed him another picture, this of a stack of money, a bank card and a scale; S.M. said half the money was his, the remainder belonging to his older brother.
Ms. Simone showed him another picture. “What’s this?” she asked. “Plastic bag with ammunition,” S.M. said. “Whose ammunition?” she asked. “I don’t know,” said S.M.
Then he peered more closely at the picture.
“Is that a .22?” he asked, then answered himself: “I think it’s .22 calibre.”
“Do you know what .22 calibre is?” she asked. “No I don’t,” S.M. said, adding a minute later, “Why would I have ammunition?”
Thank gawd for morons.
