How to Live Big

Nearly everybody in cafe society liked Jules Lack. A big, gregarious playboy of 45, he spent most of his time hobnobbing with the rich and famous at the bar in "21," the Pump Room, or kindred establishments in New York, Chicago and Miami. Until his wealthy wife divorced him, Big Julie always seemed to have plenty of money. But after the divorce, the story got around that Lack often had to borrow large amounts from friends.

Edith Small liked Big Julie, too, almost from the moment she met him last spring in Miami. After three dates, Edith decided she wanted to marry him. But when she told her husband, back in Detroit, he did not take it well at all. Last week Dentist Kenneth B. Small told how Edith had asked for a divorce, as they sat in their bedroom on the afternoon she got back to Detroit from Florida. "I don't love you anymore," she said. "You don't know how to live. You're small. I want to live big now." Later, she confirmed Small's suspicions: "I might as well tell you, there is another man, Jules Lack. He makes $55,000 a year. At nightclubs, waiters know where to take him. He knows Leon Henderson. His two children are nicer than ours."

"Do you mean his children are dearer to you than your own?" Dr. Small asked. "Yes," said Edith. "You don't know how to invest. Buy electronic stock and get ten percent." Just to prove she knew how to invest if her husband didn't, Edith gave Jules Lack $10,000 of her $125,000 inheritance. He promised to pay her back, with 8% interest, in September.

Pretty Edith, mother of three, continued to meet Jules in Detroit and Chicago, and when he suggested they spend Memorial Day weekend together at a house party, she was willing. After a wild, 200-mile drive across Michigan, Dr. Small caught up with them at a beach cottage near Allegan. Jules was playing cards with two other men when Dr. Small entered the house. "Which one is Lack?" asked the dentist. "I'm Lack," said Big Jules, flashing his warmest smile and extending his gladhand. Then Dr. Small fired two bullets, and Lack dropped dead.

Last week, in a steaming, overcrowded Allegan courtroom, Dr. Small gave a rambling, weeping, shouting account of how it all happened. Edith, who seemed to relish the publicity, testified in his defense. After five hours of deliberation on the first-degree-murder charge against Dr. Small, the jury brought in its verdict: Not guilty, by reason of insanity. As soon as he can prove he is again rational, Dr. Small will go free.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.