Murdaugh Attorneys Demand Evidence From Alleged Crime Scene Coverup
New motion cites FITSNews reporting, accuses state of withholding information about missing murder weapons and seeks disclosure ahead of October 16 hearing…
New motion cites FITSNews reporting, accuses state of withholding information about missing murder weapons and seeks disclosure ahead of October 16 hearing…
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There ain’t no way that Pooty Poot and Jimbo aren’t getting paid by someone for all the the bovine excreta they are coming up with. They’ve thrown everything they can think of at the wall in hopes that; some of it sticks or that the new jury pool will be fooled by all their smoke and mirrors (and stank and flies).
But it’s the Prosecution, not Alex’s defense team, who is convening a new grand jury and leaking it to FITSNews to create another stupid scenario that the gullible public would swallow whole as uncritically as it swallowed whole the Prosecution’s stupid motive theory and the stupid theory that people die as soon as the battery on their cell phone does.
Please see my excellent analysis of how the Prosecution squeezed the two murders in the 8 seconds (that’s seconds NOT minutes) between Maggie, few feet from Paul, undisturbedly reading texts from John Marvin and Lynn G at 8:49:27 pm and Paul receiving at 8:49:35 a text from the leeching and annoying Rogan Gibson, which text Paul left unread for reasons greatly more likely than the Prosecution’s thesis that said text remained unread because Paul had put his phone back in his pocket, locked Cash the dog in its cell, went to the feed room, and got shot TWICE in those 8 seconds.
Now we are asked to swallow whole the new thesis that some “witnesses” knew the specs of the murder weapons the night of the murders, saw them in Greg Alexander’s hands that same night, and stayed silent about everything for five years and three months!?!?!
A story I teased elsewhere in a previous comment follows:
DICK HARPOOTLIAN HAD been a household name in South Carolina decades before he took on Alex Murdaugh as a client. Like many defense lawyers, he’d cut his teeth as a solicitor. He’d sent the notorious serial killer Pee Wee Gaskins to death row. In a thwarted attempt to delay his execution, Gaskins had been accused of trying to have Harpootlian’s then three-year-old daughter kid-napped. Harpootlian said the scheme proved Gaskins was a “mad dog” who needed to be put down.
While solicitor, Harpootlian had been a contemporary of Buster Murdaugh’s and admired the old-er man’s ability to gin up controversy and shrug off criticism. The two of them were kindred spirits who both accepted that right and wrong were not always black and white.
Soon after Harpootlian left the solicitor’s office and opened his defense practice, he got a call from Old Buster about one of Dick’s cases. Harpootlian was representing a Black sailor who’d got-ten into a shoving match with some locals at a Varnville bar. In the melee that followed, the sailor had gotten into a car and hit one of the locals. It wasn’t clear whether the sailor had veered to hit the man or the man had jumped in front of him, but the injuries had been fatal.
“Mr. Harpootlian,” Buster said, “I’ve got the judge here in two weeks. Be here that Monday at two-thirty p.m. and your boy can plead to involuntary manslaughter with no probation. He’s got to pay the funeral bills, though.”
It was an offer that seemed too good to refuse, a plea deal instead of a murder trial in front of a Hampton jury. The only problem was that Harpootlian was already scheduled to give a speech on the other side of the state that Monday morning. He decided to charter [page 290 of THE DEVIL AT HIS ELBOW] a plane so he could arrive at the hearing on time and had his secretary call the solicitor’s secretary back to see about getting a taxi from the airport.
When Harpootlian landed at the tiny Hampton airport, which had no commercial flights then or ever, a young man was waiting for him, leaning against an old station wagon filled with fishing gear. He was tall and redheaded and introduced himself as Randolph Murdaugh IV, or Randy, Buster’s grandson and Alex’s older brother. When they walked into the courtroom, Buster stopped in the middle of addressing the judge and turned to face them. “Judge, the big-city lawyer who wanted me to send a taxi cab to the Hampton airport is here,” Buster said. The courtroom erupted in laughter. The client made the plea and it was a done deal.
A few weeks later, Harpootlian called his client’s parents to check on whether they’d heard any-thing more, because the plea meant they might face civil penalties. They said, oh, yes, they’d al-ready been sued and settled. The Murdaugh firm had filed a wrongful death suit a few days after the plea and their insurance had paid out $1 million in coverage. Harpootlian’s clients were happy. Their son was free. The dead man’s family was compensated $700,000 for their loss and the Murdaugh firm got paid $300,000 for a few hours’ work.
“Was it unethical as hell?” Harpootlian would say as he recounted the story. “Sure. But it was also a win-win-win.”