Poison Penmanship: The Gentle Art of Muckraking by Jessica Mitford Read Free Book Online Page B

description with the watch found in Bakkerud’s room. It tallied. Confronted with the watch, Bakkerud readily confessed to the assault in Golden Gate Park. He led police to the hidden “torture kit”, containing tape, cord, scissors, knife. The police criminologist found within ten minutes microscopic evidence that fibres taken from Bakkerud’s belongings matched those from the victims’ clothing.
    And the manacles? Bakkerud had stolen them from the glove compartment of a San Francisco police car on the night of the crime. Apparently the theft had never been noticed or reported, much less linked with the assault.
    A badly shaken press and police department set about picking up the pieces—and assigning the blame.
    “San Francisco police had worked up a case strong enough to send an innocent man to San Quentin for life”, said the Chronicle (8/6/57)
    “The cops were out for a conviction more than they were out for the truth. They think a case is solved when they get a suspect”, said Public Defender Dresow. ( Examiner , 8/4/57)
    “I never said positively that I was sure he was the one,” said the victim ( Examiner , 8/4/57)
    “(Chief of Inspectors) McKlem denied having been ‘certain’ Messinger was the man,” reported the Examiner (8/4/57)
    “The description furnished by the victim was way off”, said the Chronicle (8/6/57), pointing out that in every essential the published description, that of Messinger and that of Bakkerud were totally at variance.
    “Above all, Messinger lied”, editorialized the News (8/6/57). “Had it not been for his falsehoods, police would never have been able to build up a case against him”.
    There was little comment by the newspapers on their own part in the case. The News (8/6/57) was the only one to tackle this aspect of the post mortem. It editorially extolled the “spotlight of public interest which said in effect, ‘you must be certain; you must prove your case’ ... Our kind of society demands facts. Spurred on by public interest, the police produced the facts—and cleared him”.
    In a subsequent television program, News editor Albert Colgrove explained newspaper use of the word “FANG”. He pointed out that it made for easier headline treatment than SUSPECT because it contains fewer letters.
    Questioned about the relationship between crime news and circulation, he answered that there is indeed a most important relationship. He cited the fact that the day of Abbott’s execution had been the second biggest circulation day of San Francisco’s history, exceeded only by the day of the recent earthquake.
    He pointed out that, in the absence of crime news, there would be many fewer newspaper readers, and thus many would be denied the opportunity to read about such worthy activities as those of the United Crusade.
    A New Zealand judge had taken a different view of the matter. Commenting on pre-trial discussion of sensational cases by the press, Mr. Justice Blair said: “It is idle for such newspapers to claim they adopt such practices in the public interest. Their motive is the sordid one of increasing their profits, unmindful of the result to the unfortunate wretch who may ultimately have to stand trial ...”
    The Messinger case disappeared speedily from the pages of the city’s newspapers, but it had thrown into sharp relief some disquieting questions.
    How reliable is eyewitness identification? The girl’s positive accusation, to which was added that of the manacles saleslady, was the heart of the case against Messinger. Yet the young victim, it turned out, had not the slightest idea of what her attacker looked like.
    Should police be permitted, prior to indictment and trial, to feed the press step-by-step details of their work?
    Should the scramble for headlines, in turn, be permitted to build up such pressure on police to “produce” that careful, dispassionate, scientific investigation of the facts becomes a near impossibility?
    Should U.S. courts be given