The Boys from Biloxi: A Legal Thriller (39 page)

The main courtroom was again chosen for the occasion. Tables and chairs were moved and a podium was arranged close to the bar and facing the gallery. When the doors opened a noisy crowd poured in, led by reporters and cameramen from several news stations—Biloxi, Jackson, New Orleans, and Mobile. They swarmed the podium and stuck their mikes in plain view, then retreated to the back wall with their bulky cameras. A bailiff herded them into one place. Print reporters jostled for the front rows. Other bailiffs pointed here and there and tried to maintain some level of order. Behind the press the gallery filled quickly with courthouse regulars, the curious, associates of the accused, and folks off the street. Lawyers and clerks milled about behind the podium, pleased with their status as members of the court and thus allowed to come and go. When all the seats were taken, one bailiff closed the door while another stood guard in the hallway and turned away the unlucky.

At 10:00
a.m.
sharp, early enough to make the noon news, a side door opened and the district attorney emerged, followed by the FBI and state police. No locals were invited to the show. Keith assumed the podium with Egan Clement standing to his immediate left. They were flanked by Special Agents Jackson Lewis and Spence Whitehead, Captain Moffett, and two investigators from the state police.

Keith began with a smile and thanked the crowd for showing up. He was twenty-eight years old, handsome, trim, well-dressed, and very much aware that he was speaking to a wide audience.
“Yesterday, the Harrison County Grand Jury, meeting in this very courtroom, indicted three men for the murder and contract killing of our former district attorney, Jesse Rudy. The indictment charges that on August 20 of last year, 1976, Nevin Noll, and Henry Taylor did conspire to commit and did indeed commit the murder of Jesse Rudy. Nevin Noll paid a large sum of money to Henry Taylor to carry out the contract killing. Mr. Taylor is a known underworld character and accomplished bomb-maker. The grand jury charges that the murder for hire was a contract killing carried out by Henry Taylor, and, under Section 98-17-29 of the Mississippi Code, is punishable by death at the state penitentiary at Parchman. The State of Mississippi will seek the death penalty for both men. The defendants were taken into custody last week and are being kept in various jails around the state, but not in Harrison County.”

Keith paused to give the reporters time to catch up. He tried to ignore the row of cameras against the back wall. The room was packed and quiet; everyone was waiting for more.

“This murder was solved by the brilliant work of our state police, and especially by the investigative prowess of the FBI. Special Agents Jackson Lewis and Spence Whitehead conducted an undercover operation that was nothing short of brilliant. For many reasons I cannot go into details, but I hope that one day the story will be told. We the people of this state owe a great debt to these fine officers. I will not belabor the point here. The purpose of this announcement was to inform the public. I will take a few questions, but only a few.”

A reporter in the front row leapt to her feet and yelled, “When will the defendants be in court?”

“Judge Oliphant has set a first appearance for Friday morning, in this courtroom.”

The next one yelled, “Will they be allowed to post bail and get out?”

“The State will oppose bail, but that’s a decision for the judge.”

“Was the investigation hampered by local law enforcement?”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t helped. We received some assistance from the Biloxi city police, but we kept the investigation away from the sheriff’s department.”

“Why?”

“Obvious reasons. It’s a lack of trust.”

“Will there be additional defendants?”

“No comment. It’s safe to say we can expect a lot of legal maneuvers between now and a trial.”

“Will you prosecute these defendants?”

“As of now, I plan to. That’s my job.”

“You don’t see a conflict of interest?”

“No, but if it becomes necessary for me to step aside, then I’ll do so.”

“Do you want these men put to death for killing your father?”

Without hesitation, Keith said, “Yes.”

The grand jury also indicted Sgt. Eddie Morton, a career air force mechanic who had been stationed at Keesler for nine years. An anonymous tip notified the FBI that Morton had been selling explosives and ordnance out the back door. Morton was in the base jail, facing court-martial and a long sentence, and on suicide watch.

With his lawyer present, he sat down with the air force police and told his story. He has been at Keesler for nine years and had spent too much time in the clubs. He had a serious drinking problem and heavy gambling debts. Mr. Malco down at the Lucky Star had offered to forgive his debts in return for some explosives. On August 3 of last year, Morton delivered five pounds of Semtex to Nevin Noll, as associate of Malco’s.

When Keith was told of this, he breathed an enormous sigh of
relief. Then he rounded up his grand jury for an emergency session. In a quick meeting, it indicted Hugh Malco for capital murder.

Joshua Burch couldn’t find his clients and no one seemed too concerned about it. He called Keith repeatedly and objected strongly to his hiding all three defendants. He claimed there was some vague constitutional right to be housed in a jail close to home, but Keith politely said that was nonsense.

Burch’s immediate quandary was which defendant to represent, though the answer wasn’t that complicated; he’d take the one with the most money. When he finally spoke to Nevin Noll by phone he tried to break it to him gently and explain that, in a capital murder situation with three defendants, there were too many possible conflicts of interest for any one lawyer to surmount. He, Burch, was loyal to the Malcos, and he, Noll, would have to find another lawyer. It was a difficult conversation because Noll had been fond of Burch since he’d walked him out a free man following the murder of Earl Fortier thirteen years earlier. It had been Noll’s first murder, and, after he was found not guilty, had inspired him to kill again.

Now his trusted lawyer was saying no. Burch promised to find another talented criminal defense attorney, but it would be expensive. Noll assumed the Malcos would cover the costs.

Once his cash disappeared, Henry Taylor had no money to hire anyone, especially a lawyer. For four days he was kept in solitary in the Nashville jail and didn’t touch a phone until the third day.

The news of the indictments received front-page coverage throughout the Deep South, and Keith’s stern but handsome face was everywhere. The story was instantly compelling—son seeks
revenge for father’s death—but it became irresistible when the
Gulf Coast Register
found an old photo of Keith and Hugh posing with their teammates as Biloxi All-Stars in 1960.

Keith was inundated with calls and requests from reporters across the country. He was forced to leave his new office in the courthouse and seek refuge at Rudy & Pettigrew. The frenzy only got worse as they prepared for the initial appearances.

On Friday, February 18, the courthouse was surrounded by freshly cleaned squad cars from the highway patrol. Troopers were everywhere, some directing traffic. The news vans were parked in one small lot at the rear of the courthouse and the cameras were directed to an area near the back entrance. The Biloxi police assured the camera crews they would be in the perfect position to film the three defendants as they were perp-walked into court.

Indeed they were. At 9:45, three squad cars arrived together. Hugh Malco was extracted from the first, and in handcuffs and ankle chains was escorted slowly into the building. Some reporters tossed banalities at him but he only smiled. He was followed by Nevin Noll, unsmiling; and Henry Taylor, eyes diverted and head hung low, brought up the rear.

Keith had a knot in his stomach the size of a softball. He sat at the State’s table with Egan to his left and a quiet throng behind him, waiting for the moment when the defendants would be hauled in from a side door and he and Hugh would have their first good look at each other.

Across the way, Joshua Burch sat with his team and the other defense lawyers, all frowning gravely at documents and occasionally whispering important strategies.

Keith was out of his league and he knew it. In his five months as district attorney he had tried eight cases from start to finish, and though he’d won the last seven they were easy wins. He had never
even observed a capital murder trial. His father had served as DA for almost five years and never handled one. They were grueling, complicated, and the stakes were enormous.

Burch, on the other hand, had spent the last three decades in front of juries and projected an air of extreme confidence, regardless of the guilt or innocence of his clients. Jesse had said many times that Joshua Burch was the smoothest trial lawyer he had ever fought. “If I ever get indicted,” Jesse had said more than once, “I want Burch.”

A side door opened and the police led the way. They escorted the three defendants to chairs near the defense table and removed their handcuffs and ankle chains. Keith glared at Hugh Malco, hoping to convey the message:
You’re in my courtroom, under my control, and this will not end well for you.
Hugh, though, kept his eyes on the floor and ignored everyone around him.

Once Judge Oliphant settled in on the bench, he thanked the throng for attending and showing so much interest, and went on to explain that the purpose of the initial appearance was to make sure the defendants understood the charges from the indictment and to check the status of their legal representation. He called Henry Taylor first.

Six months earlier, Taylor had stepped inside the dark and empty courtroom as he scoped out the building and planned his attack. At that time he could not have dreamed that he would ever return, especially in handcuffs, under indictment, and facing the death penalty. He limped to the bench where Keith Rudy was waiting with a scowl. Taylor answered a series of questions from the judge. Yes, he had read the indictment and understood the charges. He pled not guilty. No, he did not have a lawyer and couldn’t afford one. Judge Oliphant explained that one would be furnished by the State, and sent him back to his seat.