Following Jesse and Duff, the Haberstroh brothers left the courtroom through a side door and took the janitors’ stairs to the first floor. Near the rear entrance, they all shook hands and said goodbye. The brothers hopped into the rear seat of a waiting car and hurried off.
Joshua Burch was in the courtroom and watched the guilty plea in disbelief. It was not just bad news for Malco’s defense, it was devastating. Burch was losing clients rapidly as Jesse Rudy flipped them like pancakes. There was little doubt he would go after the other two managers and probably corral the hookers who had not already caved in. The defense was staring at a firing squad and Rudy was giving the orders.
Burch left the courthouse and walked three blocks back to his office, a beautiful three-story Victorian home he had inherited from his grandfather, himself a prominent lawyer. Joshua had turned it into an office, filled it with associates and secretaries, and enjoyed the perks of a big staff. At the front desk, he growled at the receptionist as he checked his phone messages. She shoved over a package and said it had just been delivered. He smiled as he cradled it. His favorite smuggler, an ex-client, had come through again. He took it upstairs to his magnificent office overlooking downtown, and unpacked a box of black cigars, Partagas, pure Cuban and heavily embargoed. He could almost taste one as he took off the wrapper. He lit it and blew smoke out a window. He called Lance and invited him over.
Three hours later, after the staff had been sent home early, Lance, Hugh, and Nevin Noll arrived. Burch met them at the front door and welcomed them to his conference room on the first floor. It was Lance’s favorite room in all of Biloxi: walls lined with walnut shelves that held thousands of important books, large portraits of prior Burch lawyers, bulky and weathered leather chairs around a shiny mahogany table. Burch passed around his new box of Cubans and everyone lit up. He poured bourbon on the rocks for Lance and Nevin. Hugh preferred water.
They talked about Haberstroh’s guilty plea and the problems it caused. Burch still represented Bobby Lopez and Coot Reed, both of whom were still employed by Foxy’s as the manager and floor manager. They were being watched closely by everyone around them. Neither had ever mentioned the idea of a plea bargain and Burch certainly had not. He had no idea how Jesse Rudy weaseled himself into Haberstroh’s orbit and cut the deal. When Fritz fired him, Burch had called Jesse with some questions but got nowhere.
They sipped and smoked and bashed Jesse, but it was all a rehash.
Lance asked, “Have you found him an opponent?”
Burch exhaled and sighed in disgust, shook his head and replied, “No, and we’ve been through the entire bar. Right now there are seventeen lawyers in Hancock County, fifty-one in Harrison, eleven in Stone. At least half are unelectable because of age, health, race, or gender. There’s never been a female DA in this state, nor a black one. Now’s not the time to blaze a trail. Most of the others couldn’t get ten votes because of incompetence, alcoholism, or contrariness. Trust me, there are some bad apples out there practicing law. About a dozen are big firm guys making plenty of money. We whittled our list down to three young lawyers, guys who might do well in politics and need a steady paycheck. In the past month I’ve mentioned it casually to all three. There’s no interest whatsoever.”
“What about Rex Dubisson?” Lance asked.
“He said no. He’s built a good private practice, making some money, and doesn’t miss politics. That, and he got his ass kicked last time. He thinks Jesse Rudy is the most popular lawyer on the Coast and is unbeatable. That’s the current sentiment out there on the street.”
“Did you mention the money?”
“I told Rex there would be fifty grand for his campaign, plus twenty-five a year in cash for four years. He said no, without hesitation.”
Hugh partially raised his hand like a real smart-ass and said, “May I ask a question?”
Burch shrugged, took a puff.
“Okay, so we’re talking about electing a new district attorney, right? Assuming we can pay someone to get in the race, and assuming that person can win, the election is in August. The trial is in March, three months from now. What good is a new DA once the trial is over?”