STATEMENT OF IRVING K. Mandelbaum, resident of Apartment 6C, 537 East Seventy-third Street, New York, New York. This transcription is coded NYPD-#146-IKM-123GT.
WITNESS: What a night. What a night! I mean, we didn’t go away for the weekend. We’ll stay in the city, I figured. We’ll have a nice, quiet weekend. No traffic. No hang-ups. No crowds. Everything will be nice and quiet. So we’re in bed. You understand? Five cops armed like the invasion of Normandy come through the bedroom and go out the window. Okay. I’m a good, law-abiding citizen. I’m with them. We get out of bed. Gretch, she goes into the bathroom while the cops pile through the window. At least one of the shvartzes has the decency to say, “Sorry about this, pal.” So then Gretch comes out of the bathroom and says, “Back to bed.” So then the fireworks start. Guns, lights, screams—the whole thing is right out of a Warner Brothers’ movie of the late 1930’s, which I really dig—you know, something with James Cagney and Chester Morris. We get out of bed. We’re watching all this from the front windows, you understand. It’s very exciting. What a weekend! Then everything dies down. No more guns. No more yells. So Gretch says, “Back to bed!” So we go. About five minutes later a guy comes through the bedroom window, hoisting himself up and climbing in. He’s got a gun in his hand. Gretch and I get out of bed. He says, “One word out of you and you’re dead.” So naturally I didn’t even agree with him. A second later and he’s gone. Gretch says, “Back to bed?” And I said, “No, dear. I think at this moment I will drink a quart of Scotch.” Oh boy.