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"It's a hot summer night in Chicago in 1934. A lot of people think they hear sheet lightening but it's comin' from down around State Street, the Biograph Theatre, a movie house. The Feds, with some borrowed Texas Rangers, are killing Dillinger as he leaves the movie house. He staggers up an adjacent alley, and dies. By dawn, you couldn't drive on that street for the traffic. Some early birds go up the alley and soak their hankies in a pile of blood. Hankies that today are worth fortunes. The movie guy made a fortune charging people to stand in line and sit in the seat where he decided Dillinger had last sat. A lot of newspapers blare the end of Dillinger as a triumph. But there's no TV to tell America what to think."
But you don't surely equate John Dillinger's acts with those of Martha?
"'Course not in terms of kind and depth. Only superficially. And since her misstep was so mild there is no shame in rooting her home from jail. Like they did Thursday night in West Virginia. Some people had driven all the way from Seattle to wish her well and see her off."
Interesting parallels, Uncle.
"There's more; then we eat. Dillinger had the Lady in Red, a woman who accompanied him and a new girlfriend to the movie. She informed the cops beforehand. Anna Sage thought she had a deal. In exchange for giving up Dillinger, the feds would forget an immigration rap pending against her."
She got to stay here?
"Nope. They deported her to her native Rumania anyway. Said the guy who made the deal wasn't authorized to do it."
There's no Lady in Red in Martha's case.
"No. But there's a guy in a suit, one of the broker's boys who helped make the case. When you get older watch for ladies in red; meantime, beware of talking guys in suits. Let's eat."