Crime-of-the-Week

In the shoulder-bumping mass of humanity which surged its way into a Brooklyn subway station one evening last week was Oscar Winheld. Oscar Winheld, 65, an unemployed bricklayer, had been looking for work all day. Someone had given him the only nickel he had. He dropped it into a turnstile slot. He walked toward the landing platform. A special officer of the subway company laid his hand on Oscar Winheld's shoulder.

"What's that?" the officer asked, pointing to the magnifying glass near the coin slot.

"What?" asked Oscar Winheld. "I'm sorry. I've lost my glasses. I can't see, you know."

"That's a slug. That's no nickel."

Oscar Winheld peered closely. "I didn't know. Someone gave it to me. I've no money, you see."

"I'm sorry. I've got to arrest you."

Oscar Winheld was taken away and placed in a cell. The desk sergeant told him not to worry about it. A guard came by and said, "Don't worry, you'll probably get off with a suspended sentence or a light fine tomorrow." When the guard came back later he found his prisoner had hanged himself to the crossbar of the cell door with his belt. Policemen who searched Oscar Winheld's home to see if he really did have some money, found none. Some of them figured that the Depression had killed Oscar Winheld.

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