‘You Have to Be a Fox to Catch a Fox’ : Most Wanted Man Has Eluded FBI for 10 Years

Leo Koury, card shark and reputed racketeer accused of gunning down competition in the gay bar business, is one of the most elusive fugitives in U.S. history.

And Jack Colwell, the latest FBI agent assigned to lead the manhunt, sees the decade-old search for the suspected killer as a personal challenge.

“I love this case,” said Colwell, a blunt-talking, hard-driving, bald-headed lawman. “It’s complex. It’s interesting. He’s hard. He’s old. He knows every trick in the book. We’re even.”

So far Koury, 54, is winning big. He is the senior man on the FBI’s list of “10 Most Wanted Fugitives.” He vanished Oct. 30, 1978, supposedly with up to $1 million in cash in the trunk of his car.

The chase has crisscrossed the nation, reached into South America and for a time focused on Lebanon, where Koury’s father, a Lebanese immigrant, returned a generation ago. At one point, it even tracked carnivals on the East Coast.

In 1982, the search earned a mention in “Ripley’s Believe It or Not” for 11 billboard-size “Wanted-Posters” of Koury in Richmond that generated worldwide publicity--but no Leo.

‘Bring Me Up to Date’

“When he’s captured--and I expect to get him--I’m going to ask: ‘Just bring me up to date. Without pointing a finger at anyone, tell me how you did it? What was it like?’ ” said Colwell, seated at his desk in the Richmond FBI office amid a 38-volume Koury file.

“I think Leo is having a good time. It’s all a game to him. He’s a competitor. He was the self-described best card mechanic (cheat) in Virginia. People said: ‘You can’t play cards with Leo. You can’t win.’ ”

In the early 1970s, Koury, a longtime bar and restaurant owner and softball umpire, gambled and won. He opened some of the first nightclubs in Richmond that catered to homosexuals, charging top dollar for providing gays a place to gather.

On Nov. 6, 1978, the state charged that he fought off competitors with gunfire and indicted him for two murders and three attempted contract slayings between 1975 and 1977, all involving rival homosexual clubs.

The week before, on Oct. 31, 1978, Koury was indicted on federal racketeering charges of loan-sharking, insurance fraud and planning an aborted 1975 attempt to kidnap the president of the Richmond-based A. H. Robins pharmaceutical company.

In one of the many twists to the case, there are questions whether Koury, who had friends in law enforcement, got inside word that he was about to be arrested. He bolted the day before the federal indictment was returned.

There have been plenty of such frustrations in the search for the dark-haired, hefty, 5-foot-11 Koury, described in an FBI profile as bright, affable, manipulative and dangerous.

Two years ago, Colwell got word that Linwood Redford, a former Koury acquaintance, wanted to talk. By then it was too late. Redford was dead, the victim of what was ruled a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

“The medical examiner said suicide. I don’t have a problem with that,” said Jan Stem, a police investigator in adjoining Henrico County. “But there’s a possibility he knew enough on Leo that pressure was applied. That’s a hunch.”

Plenty of Friends

Koury had plenty of friends. One of them, Carroll Loehr, had been with Redford the night before he died. Loehr denies any involvement in the death, but says Redford was a drug user. “I told him: ‘You need help.’ ”

Last fall, Loehr was found innocent of one of the suspected Koury murders, the 1975 slaying of Charles Kernaghan, bouncer at the Cha-Cha Palace. Loehr said Koury pulled the trigger and that he merely helped dispose of the body--out of fear of Koury.

On a recent spring day, Loehr, 39, a muscular sheet metal worker, said: “Leo’s a fox. You have to be a fox to catch a fox and the FBI doesn’t have any foxes.”

Seated on the front porch of his house, Loehr added: “Colwell isn’t smart enough to catch Leo. None of them are.”

“So far he’s right,” said the lanky Colwell, 40, a 15-year veteran of the FBI. “Leo is winning. Every day he is out there he is winning. But someday we might win one--and that will be that.”

Over the years, about a dozen FBI agents have been assigned to head the Koury case. It has been shifted, on occasion, for no other reason than to get a fresh look.

Colwell had it in 1985 to 1986 and formally got it back last month. He is now trying to pump life into the case that he believes had been somewhat neglected over the years. “This has been a bastard case. It deserves a good shake.”

He is moving to computerize the Koury file to allow quick access to information and hopefully generate new leads. “It’s a travesty this hasn’t been done before.”

He also wants to run Spanish-language ads in South America and generate publicity in the states. There is a proposal within the FBI that a reward be announced for information leading to the apprehension of Koury.

A few years ago, during his first crack at the case, Colwell tracked carnivals along the East Coast, confident he was closing in on Koury.

False Sightings

But after 10 months, he concluded that two reported sightings of Koury as a carnival worker were false. He attributed one to a prank, the other to a “very good Koury look-alike.”

Over the years, FBI field offices nationwide have investigated countless reported sightings of Koury, from one in a phone booth in Virginia Beach, Va., to one in a stolen car in Chicago, to one dealing drugs in Texas.

None checked out.

“I’ve gotten calls at home that someone saw Koury in Richmond, at a drug store or supermarket or driving a car,” said Colwell. “Nothing.

“This job is frustrating. It’s disappointing. It’s embarrassing,” Colwell said. Then he flashed a big grin. “It’s also challenging. It’s a good case.”

Koury has been on the “10 Most Wanted” list longer than any other active member--since April, 1979. Only four persons in the 38-year-old history of the lineup have been on longer. Charles Lee Herron, then wanted for killing two policemen, held the record, 18 years, until his capture in 1986.

FBI agent Jack Davis, who oversaw the Koury case a few years ago, said: “The chase may have been enjoyable for Leo for a time. But at some point he has to tire of it. He can’t get away from the feeling that someday there will be a knock at the door--and it will be us.”

Maybe.

Maybe not.

The FBI concedes it doesn’t know where in the world Koury may be--or even if he is still alive. Colwell said his hand-search of the file shows that the last “documented sighting” of Koury was in Sao Paulo, Brazil, in December, 1978.

Koury had contacts in South America and the Middle East. As a diabetic, he required daily insulin shots. As a reputed racketeer, he had enemies.

“If he’s dead, fine. We want the body,” said Colwell. He suspects, however, that Koury is alive and probably in the United States--”he liked the life style”--or perhaps South America, “that area deserves more attention.”

Colwell is back on the case after having spent much of 1987 in hospitals. He had three cancer operations--one on his throat, two on his lungs.

New Perspective

“That pretty much put life into perspective,” said Colwell, married and father of three daughters. “This case is fun. But it is not my life. It’s work.”

Richmond prosecutor Learned Barry figures if anyone can find Koury, Colwell can. “Jack likes to appear laid-back. But it’s a front. He’s tenacious.”

Leo Koury is multidimensional.

He was born in Pittsburgh and reared in Richmond. He was a husband and father of four, a successful businessman and real-estate investor, a member of the American Legion and a slow-pitch softball umpire. Occasionally, he went to church.

His darker side included what authorities now describe as a small-time crime ring involved in insurance scams, gambling and violence.

In addition to the murder of Kernaghan, Koury is charged with the attempted 1977 contract slaying of the owner of another gay bar, the Dialtone. That same year, he allegedly sent a masked gunman into still another gay bar, the Mail Box. The gunman fired into the crowd, killing one customer and wounding two others.

Many of Koury’s so-called “henchmen” had long criminal records. Several eventually talked to investigators and grand juries to reduce their jail time or to avoid conviction.

Drug Charges

One of them, Charles (Butch) Walton, 52, was an unindicted co-conspirator in the 1978 racketeering indictment of Koury. Walton is now in the Virginia State Penitentiary, awaiting trial on drug charges.

In a recent interview, Walton declined to discuss Koury, but talked about Colwell. “I like Jack. I sent get well cards to him when he was in the hospital.”

Walton said: “I’m just an old convict, but we say prayers too. I prayed for Jack.” Asked about Koury, Walton would only say: “He was a friend of mine.”

Koury had no convictions. But he did beat criminal charges dating back to when he was 20--grand larceny, forgery, possessing with intent to distribute prescription drugs.

Although married, Koury openly dated other women and fled with a girlfriend, who left him a short time later.

Koury’s wife, Jeanette Koury, reared the children. Today, one is a lawyer, one is a nurse, one works in public relations. She still helps care for the fourth, a 28-year-old born with brain damage.

For years after her husband’s disappearance, Jeanette Koury, a well-spoken, dignified woman, talked to nearly every FBI agent put on the case, inviting them into her home for coffee and a chat.

“I don’t want to talk about Leo anymore,” Jeanette Koury, speaking from the doorway of her house, told a recent visitor. “Life has been a lot calmer since he left. Everything about Leo is in the (FBI) file.”

Back in his office, Colwell studies the file, works the phone, plots strategy he hopes will turn up fresh leads. “We haven’t seen his heels in so long, we don’t even know what he smells like anymore.”

About 15 years ago, Colwell got close enough to Koury to hear him call balls and strikes. As a softball umpire, Koury worked games involving the FBI team. Colwell played left field.

“He was a good ump,” said Colwell. “He talked to everyone. I’d love to talk to him again. I’d be tickled to death if he would just pick up the phone someday and call me.”