The President of Mexico sat facing an assassin who had just murdered the President Elect.
Terrible but controlled was the anger of President Plutarco Elias Calles at the death of his dearest friend and closest political associate, President Elect Alvaro Obregon.
President glared at Assassin as might lion at weasel. How to make the pale but unflinching weasel squeak?
Christ the King. The precise words of ensuing dialog will perhaps never be established to the satisfaction of all. Accepted version:
President Calles—What motive had you to deprive General Obregon of his life?
Assassin—By order...