by Paul R. Spitzzeri
In December 1924, nearly four months after the shooting death of Theresa Weinstein Moers (Mors), her lover Norman Selby, known to the public as former boxing champion Kid McCoy, went on trial on a charge of first-degree murder with a conviction to be followed by a death sentence of hanging.
The prosecution from the office of Los Angeles County District Attorney Asa Keyes brought forward a few dozen witnesses, including the several persons who were robbed and shot by McCoy as he stormed into the antique store across from Westlake (now MacArthur) Park owned by Mors and her ex-husband Albert, along with alienists (psychiatrists) who subjected the defendant to mental examinations due to the early insinuations of his defense counsel that they would mount an insanity defense and more.
That defense, however, turned out to be a double, or perhaps a triple, one because, in addition to raising the likelihood of the insanity of their client, there was a concerted effort to pin the killing on Albert Mors—this, undoubtedly, buttressed by pre-trial testimony from Iva Martin, a neighbor at the Nottingham (now Richmond) Apartments, south of Lafayette Park, where Theresa and McCoy resided, who told Los Angeles Police Department detectives that she heard and saw two men leave the crime scene, with one crawling and walking by her window and with a body type that was not that of McCoy, though she could not initially identify the figure as Mors, but changed her mind.
Yet, the defendant continued to insist that Theresa committed suicide as he desperately tried to stop her, even as he’d posited the possibility she was the victim of a hit job as noted in part nine of this post. Moreover, the fact that it was determined from the outset that McCoy would testify, when defendants normally do not, seemed to be an indication that he and his counsel were confident that he could be compelling and convincing, especially to a jury that has nine of its twelve members as women. McCoy told the press on the 9th that “I will tell a story that will convince any kind of jury that she killed herself.”
Notably, while defense counsel seemed bent on excusing women of a certain age from the jury, perhaps believing that younger females would be more sympathetic to McCoy, he professed that “any jury will free me” and added “it my lawyers will permit me, I’ll take the first twelve out of the sack, shuffle ’em up well and toss them into the box,” concluding that “I’ll take a chance any day on the first twelve,” without reference to gender. It was added that the hungover, puffy prisoner of the day of the crimes was gone and the trial version was “a dapper man of middle age with pince-nez and trim business clothes” and a “demeanor of placidity and self-assurance.” While he was apparently eager for the proceedings to begin, his lawyers motioned for a continuance, claiming they needed to find Gladys Barbieri, a Mors antique shop officer, but Judge Crail put the kibosh on the tactic, telling the attorneys the trial would last a few weeks and there was plenty of time for them to locate their witness.
A review of trial testimony does not show much of a difference in what was adduced there compared to what witnesses stated at the coroner’s inquest or the preliminary hearing in the couple of weeks after the slaying. In the 10 December edition of the Los Angeles Times, the lead prosecutor, Charles W. Fricke, laid out the case of the people, establishing the facts of Theresa’s death, including the discovery of her body, its condition and the time of death. As for Martin, she was a defense witness as Fricke told the media “we won’t call her, we found her story full of holes.”
The next line of attack for the prosecution would be the rampage at the store, including remarks made by McCoy as he robbed four men and shot three others, while the defense was said to be particularly focused on this aspect. For Fricke and his two compatriots at the D.A.’s office, “the Mors’s separation is an integral part of the prosecution’s case because McCoy was the reason for it.” Defense attorney H.L. “Jerry” Geisler, the paper noted, encouraged his client “to spend the night [following the first day of the proceeding] in retrospect digging out of his memory the details of that agitated day of his arrest.”
Among notable elements of trial proceedings reported upon by the press was the tenseness when Albert Mors walked into the courtroom on the first day and sat in the rear of the gallery and the locking of his eyes with those of McCoy, as well as the latter’s reaction when his portrait, set on Theresa’s body after her death, was introduced as evidence—this was described as “the defendant’s lips quivered, the eyes narrowed, the face whitened and he looked down at the floor,” this said to be “the expression of one whose memory carries them back to happier days.” Whether this interpretation was accurate, a ploy to attract reader attention, or both, is an obvious question when it comes to media representation.
Also of interest was the opening statement of prosecuting attorney Edward J. Dennison, said to be “pitiless in his punishment,” as with strong emotion and an accusatory finger pointed at McCoy, the deputy D.A. “flayed him with bitter phrases” regarding the “sordid murder . . . without romance, merely the cold-blooded slaying by a down-and-out prizefighter.” When the Times of the 11th reviewed prior day testimony related to the death and crime scene and the testimony offered by a parade of witnesses, it was recorded that,
McCoy, during the telling of the grewsome [sic] tales, displayed signs of restlessness. He shuddered and wept occasionally and refused to look upon the tell-tale bits of evidence strewn on the table before him. He smiled only once. The smile and nod were bestowed upon Dagmar Dahlgren, pretty danseuse, his eighth and last wife, who unexpectedly entered the courtroom and found a chair near McCoy.
The account also discussed a scenario the defense sought to elevate and that McCoy offered from early on in the investigation; namely, that after a verbal spat, Theresa tried to stab herself and, as McCoy tried to stop her, she grabbed a pistol and, during the continuing struggle “the pistol was exploded, killing her.” It was then stated that “McCoy’s mind went blank” and, with Teresa dead, “he had nothing more to live for.” As for the covering of her body, the placement of his portrait on her corpse and the three hurriedly written wills—all of these were prefaced with the word “perhaps.” The point, the defense offered, was that “she committed suicide, which drove McCoy into temporary insanity.” For the prosecution, on the other hand, these were all part of the actions of a murderer.
One significant departure in testimony, published in the Express of the 12th, was that of the defendant’s sister, Jennie Selby Thomas, who, in her statements to the police and in earlier proceedings, was quite clear in relating how her brother implicated himself in Theresa’s death. In her trial remarks, however, Thomas “refused to admit that she had at any time said or intended to say that McCoy had told her he had killed Mrs. Mors.” On the other hand, the police officer who arrested the defendant at Westlake Park after his spree across the street told the court that McCoy said to him, “I had to shoot her, but I was after [Albert] Mors.”
The Times, also of the 12th, provided specific comments made by Thomas, including that, after McCoy said he was going to kill himself and she asked where Theresa was, he replied, “she’d dead.” She then inquired, “did you get your enemy?,” presumably meaning Albert Mors, of whom she learned that he’d written letters to the Selby family threatening to kill McCoy, and he reportedly answered affirmatively. Yet, Albert Mors was still alive, so it is to be wondered what this meant, but what Thomas told the court was, “he did not say he thought he killed her,” though, again, that is precisely what she said previously, “he said she was dead.” A point that also was revived was that McCoy gave jewelry to his sister than Theresa wore on the day of her death.
With respect to the letters, these were replicated in full in the press and Mors clearly stated that he wanted to kill McCoy—a threat, however, is not evidence of Albert’s having anything to do with his ex-wife’s death and District Attorney Keyes was convinced that Albert’s alibi and whereabouts at the time of the killing were fully established. On the other hand, McCoy admitted to being present at the time of her death, even as he floated the theory of a paid hit when Harry Katz was killed, as noted in part nine of this post.
Because of battling pneumonia, Albert Mors was slated to be the 35th and final witness for the prosecution, following William G. Ross, whose recovery about being shot by McCoy while trying to escape from the Mors antique store was lengthy and difficult. On the day Mors was to appear, however, there were more fireworks about the testimony of his maid as the prosecution wanted her to attest to the start of the Mors’ marriage. The defense turned the table somewhat by insinuating that the secretary of Mors, Inc. was in a relationship with Albert, this apparently an effort to impugn his character. When the state rested without interrogating Albert, Fricke merely commented that the case was complete and his testimony unnecessary, though it reserved the option of a rebuttal if the defense called Mors to the stand.
Yet, despite handing Albert a subpoena, McCoy’s counsel did not ask him to testify and it concluded its case earlier than anticipated, relying, essentially, on the defendant’s dramatic testimony. His claim that Theresa committed suicide was graphically replayed by him from the stand with the defendant, as the Record of the 19th remarked, “gesturing dramatically and using the pantomime language acquired during five years as a movie actor,” which McCoy freely admitted animated his account. Under questioning from Geisler, McCoy asserted that Theresa’s troubled state derived from “[Albert] Mors’ action,” presumably in seizing the store’s stock certificate and other material, “and government officials,” this apparently having to do with treasury department personnel seeking allegedly smuggled jewels.
When McCoy uttered that “she was a woman who kept her troubles to herself,” Fricke objected and moved that the remark be stricken from the record, which Judge Crail sustained. Repeating that Theresa was concerned for her finances, McCoy stated that he offered to go to New York City for a period “till this affair blows over” and claimed that she grew desperate at the thought of his leaving her. That, he claimed, is when “big tears began to stream from her cheeks” and she supposedly cried out, “I don’t think I can stand it. I’m gonna end it all!” The paper then commented,
It was at this point that McCoy executed what was apparently a well-rehearsed leap in the direction of the jury. His attorney, Geisler, stepped forward to prevent him falling.
“She grabbed the knife,” McCoy explained, seizing the knife himself to illustrate, as jurors shrank back.
“She was very strong that night and I had to use all my strength to jerk the knife away.”
McCoy continued, simulating a desperate struggle with Geisler in the role of Mrs. Mors.
“She struck at herself with the knife and gave one shrill scream. I grabbed her. As we fought around the table, she threw away her knife and grabbed her gun, which was laying there handy.”
“She no sooner got it in her hand than it went off. I didn’t know whether she shot herself or shot me. Then she relaxed in my arms and I knew it was all over.”
After the defendant and his lawyer demonstrated for a second time the alleged positioning of the struggle, Fricke broke in to assert that there were fundamental differences in the two stagings, with the first clearly impossible to demonstrate how Theresa was shot where she was, while the second did so. When McCoy described how he laid her body on the floor and placed his portrait on it, following with his declaration of intended suicide, Fricke dissected his comments minutely, including inquiry about how he came into possession of some of her jewelry and how much alcohol he’d consumed on that day.
The Express, also of the 19th, ran a large banner headline, “M’COY BREAKS UNDER GRILLING,” and cited how Fricke unnerved the defendant by asking “why didn’t you shoot yourself with the .32 caliber pistol you claim Mrs. Mors used on herself?” It was remarked that “the ‘Kid’ faltered for several moments” before replying “I wanted to use my own .45 because I believed it would do better work.” It is also worth noting that, when Fricke asked where the .32 came from, McCoy answered that he took it from his pocket and placed it on the dining table, though his statement above was that it was “her gun.” Striking, too, is the claim that Theresa was too strong for him and that, at 175 pounds, his moving of her body made him dizzy, so that, after drinking more alcohol, he laid down by her side to kill himself but then he blanked out.
Before the defense rested, however, it pulled the insanity card in a dramatic and sensational flourish, with the Times of the 20th, stating that it startled the court “by jerking open the door of his family closet and revealing his father, mother and one sister as insane.” Depositions were submitted as evidence and read by his attorneys in court, with it stated that the defendant’s Mary Selby was insane in 1898, his sister Mabel was in that state in 1915 and, most titillatingly, that McCoy’s parents “entered a free-love cult and became fanatics on the subject,” while father Frank destroyed all the chewing tobacco in his store because “he thought it was wicked.”
The paper also remarked that, as McCoy reenacted the death struggle as he posited it, “he was wrestling with himself across the courtroom floor, in front of the jury box, in front of the counsel table” and was “stepping about with the agility of a younger Kid McCoy in the throes of a scene of shadow-boxing.” When Giesler stepped up to assist with the performance, “perspiration rolled down the lawyer’s cheeks” while “McCoy’s voice had reached a high-pitched, re-echoing through the courtroom.” As he described his feeling faint, the defendant pitched over the side of the witness chair and “remained there limp and silent for a moment, his arms hanging downward, his eyes rolled upward” for maximum dramatic effect.
With this unexpected conclusion, neither side chose to engage in rebuttals of defense witnesses, while there was a bit of additional drama as allegations of juror tampering were bandied about. As for closing arguments, it was reported that each side, having three members, would take at least two hours for the individual arguments, so three days were presumed to be necessary. Following an attorney conference, Judge Crail told those assembled that the case would not go to the jury until after Christmas, so that all involved (except, of course, the defendant) could spend the holidays with their families.
In its number of the 20th, the Record ran an analysis by “Mory” of McCoy’s testimony in which it was observed that what stood out, “aside from the dramatic tenseness of his voice, was a decided ability to use just the right word when endeavoring thoroughly to make plain his version of the circumstances which had brought him into court.” What also left an impression was that,
In his rather spectacular demonstration of alleged events connected with Mrs. Mors’ struggles before her death McCoy did something which possibly none but a boxer would do . . . [as he “tried to picture the shock which he experienced when the gun exploded”] McCoy shook his head from side to side, after the manner of a boxer who has received a heavy blow, has been knocked down and is trying to clear his head . . . those who realized this fact were probably impressed somewhat by McCoy’s version. It would have been a natural consequence for him as a boxer vigorously to shake his head after the physical shock occurred.
But, in a jury comprised of just three men and nine women, would this pugilistic performance have rung any bells for the female contingent? We’ll return tomorrow for part 11 and a review of the closing arguments and jury deliberation, so please check in with us then.