He saluted me with his scotch glass. “I sleep fine.”
“I bet you do.”
He was looking past me now. “Is this your lady friend moving across the room? Very lovely.”
“Beautiful women are a habit I just can’t seem to break.”
“Tell you what, Nate,” he said genially. “For old times’ sake. To prove there’s no hard feelings…. Why don’t you and your young lady join me for dinner tonight in our restaurant. It’ll be my treat.”
“No thanks, Seymour,” I said. “I couldn’t properly dress for the occasion.”
He blinked. “It’s not formal. Just a tie and jacket.”
“Maybe. But I forgot my bullet-proof vest.”
I introduced him to Linda, and he was very suave, very charming, before leaving our table to stop by and chat with other guests.
“He seemed nice,” Linda said.
“Seymour’s a gracious host, all right.”
“Kind of ugly, though, don’t you think?”
I sipped my free rum-and-Coke-another Weiss lagniappe. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Seymour-who in his later years got involved with extreme right-wing political organizations and became close pals with J. Edgar Hoover-died in 1969 at age seventy-three.
Many of the others are gone, too: Murphy Roden, Joe Messina, Louis LeSage, Edward Hamilton, even Frank Wilson and Elmer Irey. Carlos Marcello died (as I write this) just a little over a year ago. On the other hand, the questions surrounding the shooting of the Kingfish are alive and well.
In 1985, the fiftieth anniversary of the assassination prompted the usual journalistic rehashes. But one of the articles inspired the public relations director of Mutual Life to look up his company’s policies on Huey Long.
My long-forgotten report was dredged up and its contents made available to the press; considerations of privacy were cast aside in the public interest. A flurry of publicity followed, when it was discovered that, in 1936, Mutual had paid double-indemnity on the accidental-death policy of a political figure that history had declared the victim of an assassin’s bullet.
By this time, I was retired, living in a condo in Coral Springs, Florida, with my second wife. I did a number of interviews for both print and electronic media, and reiterated the “accidental death” conclusion of my report, implicating the bodyguards, all of whom were dead and buried by now. It took about five minutes for my fifteen minutes of fame to lapse.
Then Coleman Vidrine, Jr., a retired captain of the Louisiana State Police, came forward and announced that his late father, Dr. Arthur Vidrine’s first cousin, had passed down to him a bullet-a spent.38 slug-and a story that went with it. Seemed Dr. Vidrine had given the bullet to his cousin for safekeeping. Coleman Vidrine, Sr., had told his son that Arthur was concerned for his safety, and considered the bullet part of his “life insurance policy.”
The.45 slug never showed up, but in the midst of this renewed interest in the case, Merle Welsh-the funeral director who embalmed both Huey Long and Dr. Carl Weiss-confirmed the story of a predawn impromptu autopsy by Dr. Vidrine, during which a.45 slug was recovered from the body of the Kingfish.
The funeral director, who was familiar with gunshot cases, also identified both wounds in Huey Long’s body as wounds of entry.
None of this was enough for the Louisiana State Police to reopen the case.
Then in 1991, a flamboyant but renowned forensics expert, Dr. James E. Starrs of George Washington University in Washington, D.C., took an interest in Huey Long and Carl Weiss. He convinced the Weiss family-Carl Jr. and Tom Ed-to allow him to exhume Dr. Carl Austin Weiss’s body. Although many argued that this was the wrong body to exhume (the right one being under tons of concrete and steel), Starrs was able to establish a number of facts that tended to show Dr. Carl’s innocence.
A hollow-point.38-undoubtedly from Murphy Roden’s gun, though no one said so-was found in the doctor’s brain case. Fibers from Dr. Carl’s white shirt were found embedded in the hollow point of the slug, which-along with bullets smashing into left wrist and right arm (apparent via skeletal damage)-indicated the doctor’s arms were up in a defensive posture when that fatal shot into his head was fired.
The skeleton, which was about all that was left of Carl Austin Weiss, also disclosed-through a study of trajectory of the twenty-four bullets that caused bone damage (those that passed through or into flesh without striking bone are lost in the mists of history)-that at least a dozen bullets were fired into the fallen doctor’s back.
Roselawn Cemetery, where Dr. Carl Weiss had been buried, wasn’t the only place the forensics expert made an important discovery. Starrs also tracked down long-missing, key evidence in the estate of the late Louis Guerre, head of the B.C.I. at the time of Huey’s death: the state police files on the investigation; and the “murder weapon,” Dr. Carl Weiss’s.32 Browning.
Also found among Guerre’s effects was a spent.32 slug, initially thought to be the “fatal bullet,” but ballistics experts soon established it had not come from Dr. Carl’s gun. Both proponents of Dr. Carl’s innocence and of his guilt found ways to use that bullet as ammunition in their arguments. In reality, it was just a spent slug among a deceased copper’s odds and ends, with no chain of custody to connect it with that Browning.
On February 21, 1992, Dr. Starrs presented his arguments, tending to favor Carl Austin Weiss’s innocence, at the forty-fourth annual meeting of the Academy of Forensics Sciences, which by coincidence was held that year in New Orleans. Four months later, the state police held a press conference declaring Dr. Carl Weiss the one-man, one-bullet assassin. Their conclusions were largely based on photographs (which had a poor chain of custody themselves) of the clothing Huey was supposedly wearing when he was shot.
There were indications, in the photos, of powder burns from a point-blank entry wound to the right abdomen. And of course, the police stated in support of their brother officers of bygone days, this meant Dr. Carl Weiss had to be the assassin. After all, he was the only one close enough to Huey Long to shoot him point-blank, leaving a powder burn….
Murphy Roden’s name wasn’t mentioned.
All of this latter-day attention to the case hasn’t served to do anything but raise the same old questions. If anything, things are more clouded now than ever.
When I saw Carl Weiss, Jr., a distinguished-looking man in his late fifties, speak on TV of his belief in his father’s innocence, I remembered a little boy playing with a Fresh Air Taxi and figured now was the time to come forward with what I know.
It doesn’t put anyone at risk, at this late date, not even me. But don’t you think it’s time people know that history almost got it right?
That a man named Weiss did kill Huey Long?
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