The Mammoth Book of Celebrity Murders (59 page)

In early 1953 Ruby once again managed to take an interest in a club, this time the Vegas Club, which he managed with another friend, but again history repeated itself when the club failed to
meet its obligations and was taken away from him. He eventually bought his interest in the Vegas Club back again and this time managed to hang on to it right up until his arrest.

Throughout the years Ruby bought himself in and out of club interests, most failed and he never managed to reach the heights of club ownership that would have made him a “name” in
Dallas, or provide him with the money and power he craved. Clubs were not his only foray into the world of private enterprise – amongst other things, Ruby tried to sell American jeeps to Cuba
and created a vitamin mix which he attempted to sell through shops – but none of his attempts at business seemed to bear fruit.

At the time of his arrest Ruby was not unknown to the authorities – between 1949 and 1963 he had been arrested eight times by the Dallas police department. The charges against him were
varied: in 1949 he was fined for disturbing the peace; in 1953 he narrowly avoided arrest over a charge of carrying a concealed weapon; but fell victim to the same charge in 1954 and in addition
was charged with violation of a peace bond. He frequently fell foul of the state liquor laws by selling alcohol after hours and was also charged with allowing dancing after hours. The year in which
he murdered Oswald had already been a busy one in terms of trouble with the authorities – in February 1963 he was charged with common assault, a charge he managed to walk away from; and later
that year he was arrested again for ignoring traffic summonses. Throughout this entire period Ruby acquired many motoring tickets and was frequently suspended by the alcohol licensing authorities
for breaching their many regulations.

Those who knew Ruby had a wide-ranging set of views on him, his employees in particular being divided over how he behaved as an employer. His normal operating style seemed to be frequent
outbursts of temper and threats of discharge, followed by the occasional apology. Most however portray Ruby in a more sympathetic light – he was generally interested in the welfare of his
staff and could be quite pleasant, although there is much evidence to suggest that he dominated his employees and often resorted to violence, tried to cheat them out of pay or make late salary
payments. Certainly he used foul language to vent his frustration and his staff were often the focus of this. His physical outbursts are well recorded, at one time beating one of his musicians,
Willis Dickerson, who in turn bit a chunk off the end of Ruby’s index finger. In a more serious incident Ruby beat another musician with brass knuckle dusters, causing serious damage, the
unfortunate man needing stitches to his mouth.

And then there is the matter of Ruby’s links to organized crime, although to anyone who knew him there was no doubt that if he was anything, he was small time. There is evidence to suggest
that he had been involved in smuggling, drug-running and certainly pimping and prostitution. In 1956 Ruby met James Breen to discuss the management of three prostitutes and the possibility of
selling pornographic photographs, which, together with the club scene would lead one to expect him to have links with organized crime, but if he had any associations in that direction he was at the
bottom of the tree. His personal wealth, or lack of it, would suggest he was not one of the recipients of the proceeds of crime, while his reputation as someone who could not keep his mouth shut
suggests that others would not trust him with delicate information. Therefore the idea of him shooting Oswald to silence him would seem misplaced, as someone else would then need to silence
Ruby.

On the day in question Ruby had been hanging around the police headquarters where Oswald was being held. He had managed to gain entrance to the area concerned by posing as a member of the press
and was armed with a pistol. When Oswald emerged, flanked on all sides by police officers, Ruby stepped forward and shot him at close quarters. As Oswald sunk to the floor, other officers moved in
to arrest Ruby, who did not resist or try to make a run for it. Some would say he was expecting thanks rather than a prison term. Outside, members of the public who had been waiting to jeer Oswald
clapped, as news of the shooting spread amongst the crowd.

Initially Ruby appeared to take the position that he had shot Oswald on the spur of the moment in a bid to save Jackie Kennedy the trauma of a Dallas trial. However his behaviour around the
police headquarters suggest a more calculated attack. Conspiracy rears its head again when one considers how Ruby managed to get down to the basement of the Dallas jailhouse; some believe Ruby must
have had cooperation from someone in the police department.

The American population now faced a more complex question. Initially they were pleased to have their assassin in custody and were even more pleased when a patriotic Dallas man killed him in a
reprise attack. Soon though questions of conspiracy emerged and Ruby himself became the focus of public hatred.

After his arrest the prominent attorney Melvin Belli agreed to represent Ruby for free, many believing that with the right preparation the charge of murder could have been handled as a
“murder without malice” charge, broadly equivalent to manslaughter. The resulting sentence would therefore have been probably not more than five years and with good behaviour possibly
in the region of three. If the public believed that Ruby had carried out a public duty and saved the taxpayer the cost of an expensive trial and execution, then his stay in jail need not be such a
difficult stretch.

Strangely though Belli decided to defend the case by claiming that Ruby was legally insane, citing some vague family history of mental illness as proof. Following his trial Ruby was convicted of
“murder with malice” and was handed a death sentence.

The complexities of the situation surrounding the President’s murder were such that it would be almost impossible for anyone involved to have obtained a fair trial. Oswald would surely
have been convicted – even the might of the Warren Commission concluded that he was the lone gunman, although the basic facts suggested otherwise. During a review of the assassination in 1970
another committee concluded that the President’s death was “as a result of a conspiracy”. The conspirators, however, could not be found and the two who had been in custody were
now dead.

The case against Ruby could have gone either way – if he could have proved that he simply wanted to avenge the murder of the President, a lighter sentence might well have been achieved,
but those in authority did not seem interested in this as the claim of insanity would have meant that anything he claimed after being jailed would have been disbelieved. And if he was found guilty
of murder and competent, then he would suffer the death penalty.

Either way the press and the public were avenged – they had Oswald dead and if Ruby was involved then he was behind bars; if he wasn’t a conspirator then he was at least a murderer
and a cold-blooded one at that.

Whilst in custody Ruby alluded to a conspiracy and asked the Warren Commission on a number of occasions to be taken to Washington as he did not feel safe in Dallas. He never got his wish to be
moved and sank into a delusional state whilst awaiting an appeal, dying of an embolism on 3 January 1967.

Although it is generally now accepted that Kennedy was assassinated as the result of a conspiracy, the exact details will probably never be known. The subject still attracts much attention as it
was after all a major world event. As recently as 1981 Oswald’s body was the subject of an exhumation which sought to prove or disprove a thesis developed in a 1975 book by British writer
Michael Eddowes, that following a trip to Russia, Oswald was replaced with a clone. Dental records showed conclusively that the body in Oswald’s grave was indeed him.

No doubt in 2030, when more of the Warren Commission papers are released to the public, the controversy will rage once again, and perhaps the truth over the involvement of these two famous bit
players will finally be known.

James Dean, Natalie Wood and Sal Mineo all shot to fame when they starred in the massive silver screen hit
Rebel Without a Cause
. They were the pin-ups in
teenagers’ bedrooms throughout the United States and beyond. Who would have guessed that tragedy would befall all of them? They were all to die suddenly, a total waste of three promising
lives and a sheer waste of talent.

On 30 September 1955, James Dean was tragically killed while out enjoying one of his great pleasures, driving his beloved Porsche sports car. The 24-year-old star worked hard and played hard,
and was on the way to compete in a motor race when he failed to negotiate a bend at high speed. On 29 November 1981, at the age of 43, Natalie Wood was sailing near Catalina Island, California, on
the yacht she shared with her husband, Robert Wagner, and their friend Christopher Walken. Natalie drowned while trying to board the dinghy tied up alongside the yacht. Sal Mineo was shot down and
killed outside his apartment building by a would-be robber.

Salvatore Mineo Jr was born on 10 January 1939. He grew up in the tough Bronx area of East Harlem, New York City. He was the third of four children for his parents Sal Sr and Josephine, having
two older brothers – Victor (born in 1936) and Michael (born in 1937) – and later in 1943 the family was completed with the arrival of his only sister, Sarina.

His parents had emigrated to the US from Mineo in Sicily; his father had his own company making caskets. Young Sal would be teased at school because of his father’s profession, but Sal was
extremely proud of his father’s work and would defend him, saying, “So he makes caskets – what are you going to do about it?” Invariably, nobody ever did do anything about
it. In fact, the whole family was involved; it was truly a family business. His father would design and make the caskets, his mother would do the paperwork and the children would do general chores
to assist their parents. When they had time to play, they even used the caskets as a good place to hide when playing hide and seek. On one occasion, the young Sal had been hiding in a casket for so
long that he actually fell asleep in it; when he awoke he was understandably rather shaken up, but maintained his cool, casually climbed out and went to find his brothers and sister.

By the time he was nine, his family was able to move, to a larger three-storey, family-sized house. Initially he found it difficult to fit in; it’s never easy being the new kid on the
block. But he managed to impress a local gang of youths when he was challenged to smoke a cigar – he actually smoked the whole pack and thus became their front man.

It was also at this time that Sal made his first stage debut. He was attending his local parochial school, where he was asked by the nuns to play the role of Jesus. He learned his lines well
and, when it came to the stage performance, he was surprised how much he enjoyed the experience. He was also aware that his performance had gone down well; he showed a great deal of talent and
thoroughly enjoyed the whole event. He was considered a natural.

Problems persisted at school and Sal was often involved in fights – to such an extent that he was excluded and was even considered to have minor behavioural difficulties. In a bid to keep
her son on the straight and narrow, his mother enrolled him in dancing school at the age of ten. The lessons were a total success, as Sal had found something that he excelled at and enjoyed. His
enthusiasm didn’t go unnoticed, and it wasn’t long before he had been spotted and requested to take a part in a TV programme called
the Ted Steele Show
.

From there his life took off. At the age of 11 he was asked by Broadway producer Cheryl Crawford to audition for a small part in
The Rose Tattoo
, a Tennessee Williams play, to appear on
Broadway. He was thrilled when he was offered the part and even more so with the $65 a week pay cheque, for the single line: “The goat is in the yard.” This is what he and his mother
had dreamed of. Even if it was just the one line, he would be working twice a week at the theatre alongside Eli Wallach and Maureen Stapleton. He could hardly believe his luck.

Before his debut on Broadway, the show was to have a trial run in Chicago. This was to prove a daunting trip for Sal; it would be the first time away from his family, and he was in tears on the
train while saying goodbye to his mother. He was so upset that Tennesse Williams, who was also travelling on the train, sat and comforted him.

The show returned to Broadway and Sal would take the subway from the Bronx to Broadway, but found that he received a lot of unwanted attention from small groups of gangs using the subway and was
also propositioned by men. He would have to run through the stations or switch trains to get away from them, although he wouldn’t always manage to outrun the gangs and would arrive at the
theatre in some disarray on several occasions. He even went to the extreme measure of carrying a toy gun. He often found the travelling scary, but would be completely professional when he arrived
at work. He stayed with the company until the show closed a year later in 1952.

This was to prove timely, as he had just been successful in landing the role of understudy for the Crown Prince of Siam in the Broadway play
The King and I
at the St James Theatre. The
star of the show was Yul Brynner, who played the role of the King of Siam, and Gertrude Lawrence, who played the King’s English teacher. For this role, Sal had far more lines to learn and
also had to sing; he was needed at the theatre for every performance, although he was only able to assume his role when the boy who played the part of the prince was either taken ill or on holiday,
such as during the summer of 1953, when he went on his annual summer holidays, leaving the eager Sal to take his place.

It must be said that Sal was nervous of appearing on stage and also of the show’s star, Yul Brynner. Sal was in awe of the talented actor, but got to know him and found that he was very
supportive and easy to talk to. Yul even offered Sal advice on his acting skills, and it wasn’t long before Sal was offered promotion to the part of the Crown Prince of Siam on a permanent
basis. He obviously accepted and was very successful, earning himself great reviews, which his mother and father were truly proud of. He stayed with the show until its close in 1954. By then Sal
was 15 and ready for his next challenge.