MISSOURI: The Last of Matt Jones

The thing about Al Osborne that impressed people in Kansas City was the way he could make an unlikely damage suit pay off like a cash register. At 43, he was a pink-cheeked, garrulous lawyer, with a weakness for pinstripe suits, who knew all the angles for getting publicity for himself and his clients. In the courtroom, in steady command of a soft, barefoot Arkansas drawl, he had a wonderful way with juries.

Last April a Negro juror in circuit court told the judge something new about Osborne's way with juries. She had been approached by...

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