The devil at his elbow, p.1
The Devil at His Elbow, page 1
This is a work of nonfiction. Some names and identifying details have been changed.
Copyright © 2024 by Valerie Bauerlein Jackson, LLC
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
Ballantine Books & colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Bauerlein, Valerie, author.
Title: The devil at his elbow : Alex Murdaugh and the fall of a Southern dynasty / Valerie Bauerlein.
Description: First edition. | New York : Ballantine Books, [2024] | Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2024020503 (print) | LCCN 2024020504 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593500583 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593500590 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Murdaugh, Alex (Richard Alexander), 1968– | Murdaugh, Alex (Richard Alexander)—Family. | Murder—South Carolina—Case studies. | Murderers—South Carolina—Case studies.
Classification: LCC HV6533.S6 B38 2024 (print) | LCC HV6533.S6 (ebook) | DDC 364.152/3092 [B]—dc23/eng/20240618
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2024020503
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2024020504
Ebook ISBN 9780593500590
randomhousebooks.com
Map © 2024 by David Lindroth Inc.
Book design by Debbie Glasserman, adapted for ebook
Cover design: Scott Biel
Cover photograph: Elijah Nouvelage
ep_prh_7.0_147902108_c0_r0
Contents
Dedication
Epigraph
Author’s Note
Major Characters
Part One
The Prince of Hampton County
Part Two
Murdaugh Island
Part Three
The Wilderness
Part Four
Seven Shots in the Dark
Part Five
Black Box
Part Six
Rain
Part Seven
The Ruins
Epilogue
Photographs
Acknowledgments
A Note on Sources
Bibliography
Notes
Index
Photo Credits
About the Author
_147902108_
For Scott, Amelia, and Luke
You can find meanness in the least of creatures, but when God made man the devil was at his elbow. A creature that can do anything.
—Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian
Author’s Note
This is a work of nonfiction, based on interviews conducted over several years with more than two hundred sources. Most sources spoke on the record, though some agreed to share information only on background. This held especially true for sources closest to the Murdaughs, given the sensitive nature of the case and the enduring influence of the family. The book is also based on hospital records, newspaper archives, and thousands of pages of court filings, including non-public depositions and exhibits. No scenes or details were invented. The dialogue and quotes are based on published accounts, were witnessed by the author, or were recounted to the author by credible sources. The author attended the six-week trial of Alex Murdaugh in Walterboro, South Carolina, and accompanied the jurors on their visit to Moselle, the hunting estate where Maggie and Paul Murdaugh were killed.
Major Characters
The Murdaugh Family
The Past
Randolph Murdaugh Sr. (1887–1940) Alex’s great-grandfather; founder of the Murdaugh law firm; Fourteenth Judicial Circuit Solicitor, 1920–1940
Etta Harvey Murdaugh (1889–1918) Alex’s great-grandmother; Randolph’s first wife and mother of Randolph Jr. and Johnny Glenn Murdaugh
Estelle Marvin (1891–1937) Randolph’s second wife, a distant cousin
Mary J. Taylor Hoffman (1900–1969) Randolph’s third wife, a divorcée
Randolph “Buster” Murdaugh Jr. (1915–1998) Alex’s grandfather; partner at the family firm and Fourteenth Judicial Circuit Solicitor, 1940–1986
Johnny Glenn Murdaugh (1918–1987) Alex’s uncle; Buster’s younger brother
Gladys Marvin Murdaugh (1916–1997) Alex’s grandmother; Buster’s wife; grew up on Mackay Point Plantation
The Present
Randolph Murdaugh III (1939–2021) Alex’s father; partner at the family firm and Fourteenth Judicial Circuit Solicitor, 1986–2006
Elizabeth “Libby” Alexander Murdaugh (1939–2024) Alex’s mother; a longtime educator and school board member
Richard Alexander “Alex” Murdaugh (1968–) Disgraced lawyer, convicted murderer, and serial thief
Margaret “Maggie” Branstetter Murdaugh (1968–2021) Alex’s college sweetheart and late wife
Richard Alexander “Buster” Murdaugh Jr. (1996–) Alex and Maggie’s older son
Paul Terry Murdaugh (1999–2021) Alex and Maggie’s late younger son
Lynn Murdaugh Goettee (1963–) Alex’s older sister
Randolph Murdaugh IV (1966–) Alex’s older brother and partner in the family firm
John Marvin Murdaugh (1970–) Alex’s younger brother and owner of an equipment rental business
Associates, Other Family, and Friends
The Past
Ruthven Vaux (1913–1983) Buster’s mistress, a socialite who accused him of stealing her divorce settlement
Roberts Vaux (1945–) Buster’s illegitimate son and onetime assistant solicitor in his office
Edith Thigpen (1912–2000) Bootlegger’s wife and key witness in the federal conspiracy case against Buster
Alton Lightsey (1906–1975) Hampton County Sheriff from 1936 to 1951 and Murdaugh ally who came to see Buster as corrupt
Barrett Boulware (1956–2018) Alex’s business partner; shrimper, accused drug smuggler, and former owner of Moselle
The Present
Russell Laffitte Fourth-generation executive at Palmetto State Bank
Cory Fleming Alex’s law school roommate and frequent co-counsel
Chris Wilson Alex’s best friend and frequent co-counsel
The Thefts
Alania Plyler Spohn Older of the two sisters whose mother and brother were killed in a 2005 wreck
Hannah Plyler Younger of the two sisters
Pamela Pinckney Driver in 2009 wreck in which she, her son, and her niece were critically injured
Hakeem Pinckney (1990–2011) Pamela’s son, a deaf teenager who was rendered quadriplegic in the wreck and died two years later when his ventilator was left unplugged
Natarsha Thomas Pamela’s niece whose eye was badly damaged in the wreck
Arthur Badger Father of six, widowed when his wife was killed in a 2011 crash with a UPS truck
The Deaths
The Fall
Gloria Satterfield (1961–2018) Longtime Murdaugh housekeeper, died three weeks after falling down the steps at Moselle
Brian Harriott Gloria’s older son, a vulnerable adult
Tony Satterfield Gloria’s younger son, an emergency room technician
Ginger Hadwin Gloria’s younger sister and a classmate of Alex Murdaugh
Michael DeWitt Jr. Longtime editor of The Hampton County Guardian
The Road
Stephen Smith (1996–2015) Nursing student killed and left in the middle of a country road
Sandy Smith Stephen’s mother and advocate for solving his case
Stephanie Smith Stephen’s twin sister
The Boat Wreck
Mallory Beach (1999–2019) Killed when boat driven by Paul Murdaugh crashed into a bridge
Anthony Cook Mallory’s boyfriend and Paul’s childhood friend
Connor Cook Anthony’s cousin, Paul’s friend, and boyfriend of Miley Altman
Miley Altman Mallory’s best friend and Connor’s girlfriend
Morgan Doughty Mallory’s friend and Paul’s girlfriend
Renee Beach Mallory’s mother
Phillip Beach Mallory’s father
Beverly Cook Anthony’s mother
Marty Cook Connor’s father
Mark Tinsley Beach family lawyer and onetime friend of Alex’s
Joe McCulloch Lawyer for Connor
Austin Pritcher Rookie officer for the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources who led the early investigation
The Murders at Moselle
The Investigation
Daniel Greene Colleton County sheriff’s deputy and first officer on the scene
Laura Rutland Colleton County sheriff’s detective and assistant homicide investigator
David Owen South Carolina Law Enforcement Division (SLED) agent and lead homicide investigator
Jeff Croft SLED agent and assistant homicide investigator
Peter Rudofski SLED agent who prepared eighty-eight-page timeline based on digital records
The Prosecution
Alan Wilson S.C. Attorney General, a Republican who attended much of the trial
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John Meadors Veteran violent-crime prosecutor recruited on the eve of the trial
The Defense
Richard “Dick” Harpootlian State senator, former prosecutor, and longtime criminal defense lawyer
Jim Griffin Former federal prosecutor and white-collar defense lawyer
The Courtroom
The Hon. Clifton Newman Judge overseeing all Murdaugh matters
Rebecca “Becky” Hill Colleton County Clerk of Court
’Nette Grant Colleton County Sheriff’s Deputy and security for the Murdaugh family
The Key Witnesses
Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson Murdaugh housekeeper and Maggie’s confidante
Marian Proctor Maggie’s older sister
Mushelle “Shelley” Smith Overnight caretaker for Libby Murdaugh, Alex’s mother
Roger “Dale” Davis Fed and cared for the dogs at Moselle
The Jurors
James McDowell Alternate juror, a witness’s brother, added to the panel the last day
Gwen Generette Juror focused on kennel video
Amie Williams Payroll specialist who led the jury in prayer
Craig Moyer Carpenter who paid close attention to Alex’s shows of emotion
Part One
Chapter One
The accused man sat in the same courtroom where he and his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had accused so many others, sending some to their death for crimes less heinous than the charges he faced. Alex Murdaugh had inherited his forebears’ power and prowess and then squandered it, the work of a hundred years washed away in blood. At first, the deputies he’d known as friends exchanged pleasantries when they ferried him to and from jail. Now, several weeks into the trial, they tightened the cuffs a click more than necessary.
In Colleton County, a hardscrabble corner of South Carolina’s Lowcountry, the courtroom had always been considered grand, with its mahogany benches and brass chandeliers suspended from a soaring ceiling. It had been designed by the same architect who created the Washington Monument and was crafted to instill a hushed sense of reverence. The front of the courtroom was dominated by a massive dark wood edifice; this was the judge’s bench, but the term felt too paltry to describe the structure, which was both imposing and bulletproof. On the wall behind the bench hung the state seal, the motto every child in the state memorized in school: Dum Spiro Spero.
While I breathe, I hope.
Portraits of stern-faced court officials, most of them long dead, gazed down from within gilded frames. One of the paintings, a rendering of Alex’s legendary grandfather, had been taken down before the trial on the order of the judge, who did not want the jury to feel the old man’s eyes upon them as they decided his grandson’s fate. In the portrait’s place, a pale rectangle remained on the wall, a hint of missing history.
The judge had been acquainted with Alex’s grandfather and had been a contemporary of Alex’s father decades earlier when they were fellow prosecutors. But it was Alex, the gregarious trial lawyer, whom the judge knew best. At least, the judge had thought so. After several weeks of testimony, the judge was no longer sure he had ever known the man at all.
In the early weeks of the trial, Alex kept up appearances, covering his shackles with a folded blazer, freshening his breath with Tic Tacs, trading fist bumps with the bailiffs, arranging for his family to bring him a John Grisham novel so he’d have something to read in his holding cell. Even on trial for his life, he treated the courtroom as his duchy. He whispered to his lawyers and smiled at the jurors and stared down the prosecutors as though he could will them into silence.
Some of the most damning testimony came from those who knew him best: his family’s housekeeper, his wife’s sister, another lawyer who had grown close to Alex and then recoiled after seeing the ruthlessness at his friend’s core. Once the lawyer understood, he had vowed to force Alex to a reckoning.
To counter the damage, the defense team showed the jury a video of Alex’s family singing at his birthday party barely a week before their world ended. Staring at the shimmering footage, Alex began to rock back and forth, his shoulders jerking, his jaw working furiously, a torrent of motion. Under their voices, his lawyers told him to tone it down.
“This fucking rocking,” one muttered during a break. “It’s like he’s catatonic.”
Then came the morning when Alex took the stand, defying his legal team’s advice. As a veteran trial lawyer, he knew the risks of testifying on his own behalf. But the desire to tell his story was too strong. He was a Murdaugh. The lawyers in his family had spent decades shaping testimony to suit their needs, rearranging reality not just in court but in every square mile of their territory. It was his right to speak in this courtroom.
He put his hand on the Bible and swore to tell the truth, then settled into the witness box, adjusting the microphone for his height. The wooden chair beneath him creaked.
From an evidence box on the carpet, his lawyer picked up a shotgun.
“On June seventh, 2021, did you take this gun or any gun like it and shoot your son Paul in the chest in the feed room in your property off of Moselle Road?”
“No,” Alex said. “I did not.”
The lawyer held up the shotgun again.
“Did you take this gun, or any gun like it, and blow your son’s brains out on June seventh, or any day, or any time?”
Alex squinted, his jaw working front to back.
“No,” he said, more emphatically. “I did not.”
The lawyer dropped the gun back into the evidence box with a thud that made spectators jump. Then he picked up a sleek black tactical rifle.
“Did you take a three-hundred-caliber Blackout, such as this, and fire it into your wife Maggie’s leg, torso, or any part of her body?”
Alex nodded but said “No, I did not.”
“Did you shoot a three-hundred-caliber Blackout into her head, causing her death?”
“I didn’t shoot my wife or my son, any time, ever.” He nodded again. “I would never intentionally do anything to hurt either one of them, ever.”
The lawyer looked at his client. “Do you love Paul?”
“Did I love him? Like no other.”
“Do you love Maggie?”
“More than anything.”
Alex described that last summer evening with his family, sketching every detail so the jurors could see the picture in their minds. How he and Paul had ridden around the property together in the fading light. How they had inspected fields of corn and sunflowers, looked for signs of wild hogs, and picked up a pistol for a quick round of target practice. How Paul had laughed when Alex couldn’t make a sapling stand straight. They had returned to the house at dusk just as Maggie pulled up, he said. Their housekeeper had left them dinner on the stove, cube steak and rice and green beans, and they’d eaten quickly. Afterward Paul had gone down to the kennels to check on one of the dogs, and Maggie had gone with him. Alex said he had taken a nap, then gone to see his mother. When he returned to Moselle, he said, he had found them lying on the ground near the kennels.
As he tried to describe the blood and the stillness of the bodies, Alex began coughing and bobbing his chin toward his chest. For five seconds he was silent, then five seconds more. His face, always ruddy, was now fully flushed. His nose was running.
“It was so bad,” he said.
Another long pause, this time lasting nearly a minute. Alex twisted in his seat, seeming to look for something on the floor.
“Can I have some water?”
His lawyer passed him a bottle and Alex took a long drink.
For more than a year after that night, Alex had sworn to police that he had stayed at the house before leaving to check on his mother. Now, in court, he acknowledged that he had in fact joined his wife and son at the kennels for a few minutes before going to his mother’s house. Why, his lawyer asked, had he deceived investigators for so long?
