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The Defense had wanted that list. Long had adroit Lawyer Michael Ahern protected Capone's legal interests, kept him out of serious trouble (TIME, Sept. 21). He, too, had been disappointed when his client had to stand trial. Well he realized that this was his hardest case. To assist him he had owlish Albert Fink, whose jovial voice was frequently heard exclaiming: "Oh, my conscience!" Mr. Ahern was irascible, objected to crowding by
The Press, which was having a field day. Local papers covered the trial from all angles; out-of-town papers sent special writers. Hearstpapers, evidently considering it a better spectacle than the World Series (see p. 22), sent Colyumist Damon Runyon, who began by interviewing Capone in the grandest manner: "I found Al Capone at Colosimo's restaurant. . . ." Other newshawks reported the details of Capone's attire from tie (blue-striped) to fedora (white), noted the fact when he changed his suit (blue to grey). Gaudiest phrase of the trial was coined by the New York Evening Post's correspondent, Michael W. Straus, who referred to Cicero's gambling houses as "gold-belching pits of evil." The Press soon became interested in
The Jury: one farmer, two retired merchants, a country grocer, two painters, a real estate dealer, an insurance salesman, a clerk, a lubricating engineer, an abstractor, a wood patternmaker out of a job. All were more than 45; all but one were rustic. Mr. Ahern did not like the jury. Judge Wilkerson stated: "Nothing is to be decided except whether this man evaded and attempted to defeat these taxes." He overruled most of Capone's objections, quickly filled the box. Most of the jury immediately began to show signs of sleepiness. The grocer, A. E. Maether of Prairie View, alone was all attention.
For the Prosecution, first star witness was Rev. Henry P. Hoover, Congregationalist minister of Berwyn, Chicago suburb. He knew a good deal about the "gold-belching pits of evil." As a member of the Western Suburban Ministers' Association he took part in a raid in 1925 on a Cicero gambling house. Telling about it, Minister Hoover's eyes flashed, his tight lips bit off his words: "I looked behind the partition and I saw this man [Capone] taking money from the till. He was stuffing it in his pockets. Someone . . . said: 'Who is this man?' and he said: 'Al Brown. Is that good enough for you?' Then Mr. Capone said: 'Why are you fellows always picking on me? . . . Reverend,' he said, 'why can't you and I get together?' I said: 'What do you mean?' He answered: 'If you'll let up on me here in Cicero I will withdraw from Stickney.' "
Scarface Snorkey snorted, as though everybody must know he had never used a two-syllable word where a one-syllable word would do.
Chester Bragg, another raider, said Capone had broken into a place while it was being raided. "I asked him: 'What the hell do you think this is, a party?' and he said: 'I'm the owner of the place.'" Immediately after the raid, Raider Bragg's nose was broken with a blackjack.