“One by one, over a period of seven years, six people close to the Reverend [Willie Maxwell] had died under circumstances that nearly everyone agreed were suspicious and some deemed supernatural. Through all of the resulting investigations, the Reverend was represented by a lawyer named Tom Radney, whose presence in the courtroom that day wouldn’t have been remarkable had he not been there to defend the man who killed his former client…Reporters from the Associated Press and other wire services, along with national magazines and newspapers…had flocked to Alexander City to cover what was already being called the tale of the murderous voodoo preacher and the vigilante who shot him. One of the reporters, though, wasn’t constrained by a daily deadline. Harper Lee lived in Manhattan but still spent some of each year in Monroeville…Seventeen years had passed since she’d published To Kill a Mockingbird and twelve since she’d finished helping her friend Truman Capote report the crime story in Kansas that became In Cold Blood. Now, finally, she was ready to try again. One of the state’s best trial lawyers was arguing one of the state’s strangest cases, and the state’s most famous author was there to write about it…But for decades after the verdict, the mystery was what became of Harper Lee’s book.”
- Casey Cep, Furious Hours: Murder, Fraud, and the Last Trial of Harper Lee
Obviously, I have no idea how Casey Cep reacted when she first stumbled upon this story. I am positive, though, that it involved a large, cartoon lightbulb going on above her head.
The bait on this hook is about as irresistible as you can conjure. You start with a little-known true crime story of a potential serial killer who was himself murdered at a funeral, throw in an incredible twist or two, and finally add the presence of one of America’s most famous and reclusive authors.
There are very few things in life that can be categorized as can’t miss, but this tale certainly qualifies. Even a pedestrian retelling would rivet your attention. Thankfully, Furious Hours is anything but pedestrian.
***
Reverend Willie Maxwell was a black preacher living in rural Alabama who had the curious practice of taking out insurance policies on the lives of others, before rules were changed to ensure that a person purchasing a policy had an “insurable interest.” During the 1970s, five of his family members died. This included his first wife, found beaten in a car. Maxwell was charged with her murder, but was acquitted when a key witness – who soon became Maxwell’s second wife – changed her original story. The thread connecting all these mysterious deaths to Willie Maxwell was the insurance policies by which he profited from their demises.
Gossip swirled around Maxwell – including allegations of voodoo practices. This gossip continued right up until the moment a man named Robert Burns shot Maxwell three times in the head, at the funeral of Maxwell’s stepdaughter – who Maxwell was suspected of murdering – after Maxwell had given the eulogy. Things only get nuttier. When Burns went to trial, he was defended by locally-famous attorney Tom Radney, who had made a handsome living helping a certain man-of-the-cloth recover insurance benefits for deceased relatives.
Clearly, these are the pieces of a potentially great book.
***
Harper Lee certainly thought so. Having become world famous – and extremely wealthy – Lee had not yet written a follow-up to her beloved To Kill a Mockingbird. Perhaps thinking to emulate her friend Truman Capote, whom she had assisted in researching In Cold Blood, Lee went to Alexander City to attend the trial of Robert Burns. Despite a monumental effort, Lee never got around to publishing anything about the Maxwell-Burns affair.
Probably for good reason.
As Cep demonstrates in Furious Hours – both explicitly and implicitly – there is simply not enough hard information to support a book solely about the mysterious Reverend Maxwell. As a black man born and raised in the deep south, there is precious little by way of documentation about his life, at least those parts of his life that did not involve the justice system. Instead, there is rumor and myth and lore, all of it entertaining, but little corroborated.
Fortunately for Cep, she had an angle that eluded Harper Lee. That angle turned out to be Harper Lee herself.
***
Making a virtue out of necessity, Cep structures Furious Hours – the title comes from Lee’s description of the Battle of Horseshoe Bend, given during one of her exceedingly rare public appearances – as three separate mini-biographies.
The first section covers what is known of Reverend Maxwell’s background, including his purported crimes, and ends with his murder. The second tells the story of Maxwell’s and Burns’ attorney, a Kennedy Democrat named Tom Radney, and encompasses Radney’s deft handling of Robert Burns’ murder trial. The third and final section centers on Harper Lee’s attempts to uncover the truth of Willie Maxwell, to determine whether he represented a stone psychopath, treating his victims like walking ATMs, or the unluckiest lucky man alive, who kept losing his family but gaining needed infusions of cash.
This triptych-like setup might be off-putting to readers expecting a straight-ahead, chronological, and methodical true crime book. For those willing to go with the flow, however, Furious Hours is a true pleasure, filled with entertaining diversions and side-trips. During the Maxwell section, for instance, Cep engages in a lively recap of the history of insurance. This sounds dreadfully dull, as in, the textbook definition of dull. But in Cep’s hands, it is quite fascinating, especially when you consider that much of the history of insurance is also the history of mankind’s proclivity for creative fraud.
Given that I knew little about Harper Lee, I also really liked the segment devoted to her life. With brisk prose and confident efficiency (the whole book is less than 300 pages), Cep covers Lee’s struggles to publish her first novel (which turned out to be To Kill a Mockingbird but was almost Go Set a Watchman), her friendship with Capote (including her instrumental contributions to In Cold Blood), her fixation with having to pay a lot of taxes, and her struggles with alcohol.
***
Technically, a lot of what Cep includes in Furious Hours appears to be filler. It is not necessary, for example, to have eight chapters devoted to attorney Tom Radney, much of which covers his short, laudable political career as an Alabamian who believed in both the South and civil rights. In a book this short, though, the filler is a necessary ingredient. Otherwise, this would be pretty thin gruel. That said, Cep’s attempts to mine symbolic meaning from the Alabama Power Company’s damming of the Tallapoosa River, or the slaughter of Creek Indians at Horseshoe Bend, never quite connects, however laudable the intent.
***
A more pertinent criticism is the way that the three sections don’t quite fit together as a seamless whole. Often times, each part feels like its own book, disconnected and untethered. This is partially due to Cep’s decision – likely for dramatic purposes – to withhold certain revelations for their narrative impact. The most obvious example is the recounting of the Burns trial in Part Two, where Harper Lee is never mentioned as being present. That only comes later, in Part Three. This isn’t necessary, and it’s a bit confusing. Moreover, the three separate sections do not inform each other as much as they should. In Part One, Tom Radney is presented as a typical lawyer – a bloodsucking leech willing to help Reverend Maxwell collect on his insurance policies for a healthy commission. Then, in Part Two, Tom Radney is presented as a courageous, colorblind advocate, willing to take on any case. That is, he is presented as Atticus Finch himself. Cep never attempts to square these two diametrically opposed portraits, and it is frustrating. There were also times during the Lee bio that I utterly forgot this was a book about the death of Reverend Willie Maxwell. Truth be told, it seems like Cep forgot this as well.
***
Ultimately, Furious Hours does not feel complete. This is not a function of Cep’s abilities as a writer or researcher, but a function of life itself, which often eludes our attempts to mold disparate and diverging events into coherence. Thus, we have an instance where the sum of the parts is greater than the whole. Nevertheless, those parts make for a worthwhile literary experience.