* * *
One down, two to go. Judge Roach immediately set the case of State v. Nevin Noll for trial on March 14 in Pike County.
Before he left the Coast to return to his farm, he was invited to lunch at the home of Judge Oliphant, a fellow jurist he had known for many years. Keith was also invited, and as they enjoyed ice tea and shrimp salads on the veranda, the purpose of the lunch became clear.
Judge Roach finally said, “Keith, Harry and I share the opinion that it’s time for you to step aside and allow a special prosecutor to take over.”
Judge Oliphant added, “You’re too close to the case, Keith. You’re a victim. Your work so far has been exemplary, but we think you should not present the case to the jury.”
Keith was not surprised; he was oddly relieved. While alone, on many occasions, he had stood before a phantom jury and delivered his opening statement and final summation. Both had been written months ago and fine-tuned a hundred times. If properly delivered in a hushed courtroom they would move any human to tears, and to action. To justice. But he had never, not even in deep solitude, been able to finish them. He was not an emotional person and took pride in maintaining control, but when talking to twelve strangers about the death of his father, he broke down. As the trials grew closer, he had become even more convinced that he should only observe them.
He smiled and asked, “Who do you have in mind?”
“Chuck McClure,” Judge Roach said, without hesitation. Judge Oliphant nodded his agreement. There was no doubt they’d had this discussion several times before inviting Keith.
“Will he do it?”
“If I ask him. As you know, he’s never been one to dodge a camera.”
“And he’s very good,” Judge Oliphant added.
McClure had served as district attorney in Meridian for twelve years and had sent more men to death row than any prosecutor in the state’s history. President Johnson had appointed him U.S. attorney for the Southern District, where he had served with distinction for seven years. He was currently working at Justice in Washington but, according to Judge Roach, was eager to return home. The Jesse Rudy murder was the perfect case for him.
With great respect, Keith said, “Gentlemen, I defer to you, as always.”
Chapter 49
With one month to go before the trial of Nevin Noll, his lawyer, Millard Cantrell, opened the mail one dismal morning and was startled to see an order from Judge Roach. He was granting Burch’s motion to force out Keith Rudy, a motion Cantrell did not join, and he was replacing Keith with Chuck McClure, a well-known prosecutor.
Cantrell was furious that Burch had managed to screw up again. As Cantrell was learning, Burch’s greatness was in the courtroom, where he blossomed, but not in the plotting of pre-trial strategies. He wanted to bury his opponent with paperwork and keep him on the defensive. More and more, though, the paperwork was biting Burch in the ass.
Keith was a rookie with no capital murder experience. McClure was deadly.
Cantrell called Burch looking for another fight, but he wouldn’t take the call.
The spectacular collapse of Henry Taylor, and his transformation from a defendant to a State’s witness, had severely weakened the defense of both Nevin Noll and Hugh Malco. The arrival of Chuck McClure was another heavy nail in their coffins. The most daunting challenge before them, though, was the simple fact that both were guilty of murdering Jesse Rudy.
However, in the eyes of the law, Nevin was guiltier than Hugh simply because there was more proof. Henry Taylor never met Hugh and had no idea what was said between him and Noll. No one else was in the room when Hugh ordered the hit. But Taylor did know for a fact, and could certainly convince a jury, that Noll had paid him $20,000 to kill Jesse Rudy, and that Noll had provided the explosives.
Cantrell had been Noll’s lawyer for a year and had spent dozens of hours with him at the jail. He didn’t bother feigning affection for his client and secretly loathed him. He saw him as a cold-blooded killer incapable of remorse, a proud gangster who had never earned an honest dollar, and a psychopath who would kill again if the money was right. He was mob to his core and would never rat out a fellow thug.