5
September 7th, 2.20 p.m.
WHEN Special Prosecutor Dewey said, “Don’t you remember any testimony about Hines and the poultry racket there by him?” Jay Ellinger dropped his pencil and sat back with a gasp.
Hines’s defender, Stryker, was already on his feet, shouting, “I demand a mistrial. Your Honour! Your Honour! I demand a mistrial!”
Ellinger whispered to the Tribune reporter, “It’s over. They’ve been waitin’ for a loophole like this.”
The Tribune reporter shook his head. “Naw,” he said, “they’ll go on. This goddamn’ trial will last for years.”
But Ellinger knew in his bones that Dewey had made just that one little slip that would give the Judge the chance of getting Hines freed. Although the trial dragged on over the week−end, by Monday everyone knew that Dewey’s tremendous work of bringing Hines to trial had to be started all over again.
Ellinger got his copy off and then immediately caught a train back to East St. Louis. He was determined to resign before he could be sent on some other job that would keep him from the work he had been impatiently waiting to tackle.
Since he had been away he hadn’t heard one word from Benny. He had been so busy attending the Hines trial that he had not been able to check up with the home town news. Now, as he stepped out of the train, he could hardly contain his patience to get started.
He took a taxi to the Banner offices and went immediately to see Henry.