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How did a broken knife and the sleeping alligators explain the double crime in the Curio shop?

Alligator Alibi by Marvin Leslie

The Florida Backwoods drowsed under the toured rays of the July Sun

as R.R. Evans, chief of police of Miniole of Florida, drove up to the little gas station, Curio store. It was located,

he noted, near Mohawk about five miles west of the Orange County line on the Winter Haven,

Claremont Road. On his way, he had picked up Constable James Baker, Dr. A. L. Isler, and Justice of the Peace F. H. H. H. H. H.

The excited voice over the telephone had given the disturbing information that Mrs. Angie Newton

Gillis, the owner of the filling station, had been murdered, and murder in this peaceful community

was rare indeed.

Although he had come as fast as he could drive, stopping only long enough in Claremont,

three miles away, to pick up the local officers, a small crowd already milled around the gas

station. There wasn't another dwelling in sight, yet these curious

people had reached the scene faster than he, no doubt apprised of the tragedy by the rural grapevine,

the telephone call to his office over the multi-party country telephone. The officers pushed their way to the entrance of the gas station,

and Evans asked of the onlookers,

Which one of you phoned me? Who's Robert Black? A man stepped forward. He was pale and

plainly shaken by his experience. I did. I'm Robert Black. I was walking down the road,

Chief, and stopped in here to get a drink. Powerful hot today. Then I saw her. He motioned toward the gas

station. And I ran to get to a phone. She's in there. Evans nodded as the officers entered the tiny room and paused on the

threshold in shocked silence. The interior looked as if a hurricane had struck it. The crowd surged

to the doorway in silent fascination and awe. On the floor lay the woman, and a glance was sufficient

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