Three hundred eager citizens went early last week to Manhattan's Federal Building and scurried to find seats in a courtroom on the third floor, a courtroom with faded yellow walls, with cracks and patches and the dingy paint and plaster off its ceiling. In this grim auditorium with miserable acoustics, they settled down to see a show. As prolog they enjoyed 20 minutes of minor prohibition and narcotic cases. Then court bailiffs cleared the auditorium.
When the curtain rose on the first act, those present consisted only of the cast, the critics and one...
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