Jesse did not contest the motion and a trial was set for May 12. Judge Oliphant informed Joshua Burch, in writing, that there would be no more continuances, regardless of Mr. Malco’s medical problems.
At 5:00 p.m. on the fourth day of April, the deadline for filing, Jesse walked down to the office of the circuit clerk and asked if he had an opponent. The answer was no; he was unopposed. There would be no costly and time-consuming campaign. He drove to the offices of Rudy & Pettigrew where cold champagne was waiting.
* * *
Since the FBI’s surprise visit to his office five months earlier, Jesse had seen Agent Jackson Lewis only once. He had dropped by in early March for a quick cup of coffee and some interesting stories about showing up at the nightclubs unannounced and flashing his badge.
In late April, Lewis was back, along with Agent Spence Whitehead.
They talked about the upcoming Malco trial and what a spectacle it would be. They planned to be in the courtroom watching it all.
Lewis said, “I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of the jewelry store robberies, have you?”
Jesse drew a blank and said, “No, I have not prosecuted a jewelry store robbery, yet. Why do you ask?”
“It’s a long story and I’ll give an abbreviated version. About five years ago three people, two men and a woman, strong-armed five jewelry stores, sort of a smash-and-run game. They chose mom-and-pop stores in small towns, none in Mississippi, cleaned out the display cases, hit the road. Not very sophisticated but pretty successful, until the sixth store. In Waynesboro, Georgia, they picked the wrong place. Owner had a gun, knew how to use it, a gunfight broke out. A thug named Jimmie Crane was killed, as was his girl, a hooker named Karol Horton, last known place of employment was Red Velvet. Crane was a recent parolee and living around here. The third guy was driving the getaway car and fled the town, but six people at the first five stores got a good look at him.”
Jesse said, “I missed this story. Again, I have enough crime to worry about around here.”
Lewis slid across a police artist’s sketch of the third suspect. Jesse looked at it and did not react.
Lewis continued, “The Bureau finally tracked Crane and Horton to Biloxi. Two agents spent a few days around here but got nowhere. No one seemed to recognize this guy, or if they did, they kept it quiet. With time the investigation fizzled and now five years have gone by. Two months ago we busted a fencing operation in New Orleans and picked up some clues. Still can’t find this guy, though. Any ideas?”
Jesse frowned and shook his head and did a passable job of showing little interest. He said, “Look, guys, I have enough on my plate right now. I can’t be worried by a string of old armed robberies in other states.”
He gave them a smile, then returned to the composite and looked into the cold eyes of Hugh Malco.
He asked if he could keep the sketch, said he might show it around. They left after half an hour. Jesse made several copies of it and hid them in his office. He told no one, not even Keith and Egan.
* * *
May 5, 1975, one week before the highly anticipated trial of Lance Malco and Bobby Lopez, Judge Oliphant summoned the lawyers to his chambers for a conference. He had promised to hand over the list of prospective jurors and they were eager to get their hands on it. Jesse and Egan sat on one side of the table. Joshua Burch and two of his associates looked on from the other side. All pre-trial motions had been argued and decided. It was time for the battle and the tension was thick.
Judge Oliphant began with the usual inquiry about a settlement. “Have there been discussions about a plea agreement?”
Burch shook his head no. Jesse said, “Your Honor, the State will offer Mr. Lopez the same consideration we made to Fritz Haberstroh and Coot Reed. In return for a plea of guilty, and full cooperation against Mr. Malco, we will recommend a reduced sentence.”