Dramatization of First Meeting with Assistant State's Attorney
"Don't be a coward now. The State's Attorney's office is on our way," I insisted. "I want to get the wheels of justice moving—right now. As soon as we finish there, we'll sneak home, avoid the cops and get the press releases together."
Winston looked back. There was no sign of any police presence, so he reluctantly agreed.
We walked west. I was both anxious and excited. It felt as though I had won the lottery. I figured that when the world heard about what just happened they couldn’t help but...
A car blew its horn, not at us, but Winston and I jumped and collided while turning around.
The State's Attorney's Office was in an old stone building near the courthouse. Upstairs, we waited for forty-five minutes. Winston was pacing and smoking nervously while I sat, trying to concentrate on a magazine. Finally we were called in to an office by a man who introduced himself as Assistant State's Attorney Michel Peacock. Peacock had dark hair, parted on the right and held down with plenty of grease. His expensive black suit was full of wrinkles. "How can I help you gentlemen?" he asked, ushering Winston and me into chairs positioned before his large oak desk.
I began describing the events of the past hour, and then was told by a confused Michel to summarize everything, starting with the incidents at the Wigwam. Winston looked nervous, so I added, "Right now, somebody else is working on press releases."
"This is all a rather incredible story," said Michel, after listening to me talk for some time. "Of course, we need a few days to investigate. If what you say is true, I'd watch my back."
At that, even Winston smiled. "Thank-you very much," I said.
"Yes, thank-you," said Winston.
"Here is my card," said Michel. "Call me back in about a week and I'll let you know the progress of the investigation."
"Thanks, again," I repeated, as we left the office.
“That cop’s toast,” I said to Winston when we were back in the sunlight. He chuckled and lit up. We took side streets back to campus keeping our eye out for Urbana squad cars. "I'll be glad when we're back in Champaign," I added.
"We need to get the press release out ASAP," he replied. "Until then, there is no guarantee of our safety."
Lawrence Johnson is a Democrat," I interjected, anxious to score one for my political perspective.
"Lawrence Johnson?" queried Winston, confused about what I was talking about.
"The Champaign County State's Attorney," I replied; "The boss of Michel Peacock. Look how well we were treated."
"He was just doing his job," said Winston. "Police misconduct is not in the interest of the ruling classes and therefore not in the interest of either political party."
"I think all the evidence points to us getting a much fairer shake from the Democrats."
Winston chuckled. "Like Chicago, 1968?"
