Since I had inside information that the suspects in the Ram Lal case were not to be arraigned until near the close of the session, I did not go to court until after four. The place was the West Side Court on Fifty-Third Street. I was provided with a witness’ card which would admit me to a seat on the front benches.
The gross figure of Jim Shryock was lolling in the corner seat of the front row. With a sneer fixed in his face, he was idly trimming his nails. An entirely unscrupulous lawyer with mysterious political affiliations, he was one of the most sinister figures in New York. Everybody knew he was a crook, but it seemed impossible to reach him. In the end I’m glad to say, Mme. Storey caught him with the goods. But that’s another story.
I was astonished to see that he had old Liptrott
