by David Wilson
William Edward Hickman
• • •
Even before William Edward Hickman completed his train ride to Los Angeles, the national media was reporting his obsession with the cinema. Coming in the wake of the theater fire in Canada, the men and women who were intent on building a major industry out of films were concerned about the connection the media was making between films and criminal behavior.
Three years earlier Louis B. Mayer had founded Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and created what is commonly referred to as the studio system for making movies. He signed a limited number of actors and filmmakers and produced a steady stream of movies, with an emphasis on musicals and comedies. It was an impressive accomplishment for a young Russian immigrant who had quit school at twelve to support his family. His career in entertainment started with a vaudeville theater, leading to a move to Los Angeles and a partnership with Irving Thalberg. Together they made movies based on family values, high moral standards, and patriotism. They deliberately created an idealized vision of the world in the hope that the vision would provide a positive form of escapism from the challenges of real life.
From the beginning of his involvement in films Louis B. Mayer was concerned about the image of Hollywood, the image of the stars who worked for him, and the content of the movies he produced. Less than a year before the death of Marion Parker, in an effort to promote this image, he created the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences and set up the Academy Awards ceremony to honor the industry.
Louis B. Mayer was extremely concerned about the media frenzy surrounding the Marion Parker kidnapping. He read the newspapers and knew several newsreel teams from MGM had covered Hickman’s capture and his extradition back to Los Angeles. He was also made aware of Mr. Hickman’s inflammatory statement regarding his love of motion pictures and his daily attendance at theaters even on the day of the famous kidnapping and on the day of the hideous murder. Mr. Mayer understood better than most what negative publicity could mean for the movie industry. Canadians were advocating a law that would make it illegal for children to enter a film theater unaccompanied by an adult. The killing of an innocent child and the part movies played in Hickman’s life could cost American studios millions of dollars each year if the subject was not dealt with properly.
Some of the negative publicity related to the Hickman case was created by the film industry. The relatively new medium of newsreels included images of the mutilated body of Marion Parker as part of their coverage of the Hickman case. Those images did not blend well with the wholesome style of entertainment Mayer was trying to provide. To complicate the situation, some theater owners were refusing to screen newsreels that included footage of the Hickman case.
Mayer understood the public concern and he believed the refusal to show the clips was a form of censorship, which Mayer and the other studio executives would not tolerate. The studio executives set aside their competitive differences and made sure all the legal minds in Hollywood were prepared for the inevitable onslaught of government censorship. Clearly based on advice from his legal and promotional staff, Louis B. Mayer refused to make any comment on the Hickman trial despite repeated inquiries from reporters. His strategy was to take the moral high ground while working behind the scenes to counter the negative feedback created by the revelation of Hickman’s fascination with movies.
There was another concern that remained unspoken in public. The introduction of sound to the filmmaking process meant pictures could potentially tell sophisticated stories with adult themes. No one knew for certain if this latent potential would be a boon to the industry or destroy the market. Unwanted negative publicity would simply confuse the issue. Any suggestion that films influenced behavior would and could encourage criminal conduct would ensure public support for censorship. In private, Louis B. Mayer made it clear he was not going to let that happen.
• • •
William Edward Hickman finished his description of his motives while still on the train to Los Angeles. Asa Keyes, Chief Cline, Chief Davis, and Detectives Lucas and Raymond read the newly signed document:
My name is William Edward Hickman and this statement was made and witnessed on the S.P. Train en route to Los Angeles.
This statement regards the kidnapping and murder of Marion Parker. The time of the murder was Saturday morning December 17th 1927. The place was in room 315 of the Bellevue Arms Apts. in Los Angeles:
I wish to explain in full the motives which prompted me to commit this crime.
In the first place let me say that the only circumstances connecting my intentions of murder to Marion Parker are purely incidental. I was not prompted by revenge in the killing of Marion Parker. Only through my association with Mr. P. M. Parker at the First National Bank while I worked there as a page from January to June, 1927, made it possible for me to see Marion Parker and to know that she was P. M. Parker’s daughter. This was an incidental due and I merely picked it up and followed it through. My motives in the murder of Marion Parker are as follows:
1. Fear of detection by the police and the belief that to kill and dissect the body I would be able to evade suspicion and arrest. I had warned Mr. Parker to keep the case secret and private but this he was not reasonably able to do so that the great publicity and search which followed caused me to use what I considered the greatest precautions in protecting myself.
After successfully dodging the authorities for two days I was overcome by such fear that I did not hesitate even to murder to escape notice. I consider that this fear and precaution were the result of my instinct for self-protection in time of danger.
2. Marion had a strong confidence in me for her own safety and I considered her own wish to return to her father Saturday morning too deeply. However, my desire to secure the money and return to college were even greater. I knew that if I refused to take her back Saturday morning she might distrust me enough to give some sign which would cause my discovery. Yet I felt that if I did take her back in daylight I might fall in a trap and be caught. So in order to go through with my plans enough to get the money and keep Marion from ever knowing while she was alive that I would disappoint her confidence in me, I killed her so suddenly and unexpectedly, or she passed beyond consciousness so quickly and unexpectedly that she never had a fear or thought of her own death. Then in order to get her out of my apartment without notice I prompted after she was beyond consciousness to dissect her body.
3. For several years I have had a peculiar complex. Even though my habits have always been clean and although my high school record is commendable I have had an uncontrollable desire to commit a great crime.
This peculiar feeling, and I believe that it borders on the edge of insanity or that it comes as a weird relief from seriousness or deep thought, found a means of expressing itself in the Parker case, I am very sensitive and have a strong sense of pride. I have not been able to find a real practice value in religion or enough satisfaction that it is based on absolute reason. My deep thought on this subject and my apparent disappointment with my conclusion have shaken my sense of morality. However, I do not believe that I am insane or crazy, yet I do think that this complex of mine should be considered least among my motives in this crime. The fact that a young man is willing to commit crime to secure expenses through college and especially to a church school helps to explain this complex of mine. I cannot understand it myself but I do consider it a big motive in this crime.
I do not consider crime seriously enough. I think that if I want something no matter what means I have to secure it, I am justified in getting it. My record of crime illustrates this statement very thoroughly. Even in the matter of Marion Parker I could not realize the terrible guilt: I felt that some kind of Providence was guiding me and protecting me in this whole case. These facts, I believe, are associated with my complex.
I want to make a statement here to avoid any suspicion that during my connection with Marion Parker I took any advantage of her femininity. I can only give my word that I did not,
but I gave this very sincerely and truthfully. My word is substantiated by the doctor’s examination of the girl’s body and I feel that everyone can be assured that the girl was not molested in any way.
I would like to say that I have had no bad personal habits. I have never been drunk or taken any intoxicating drinks. I do not gamble. I have never been in any corrupt conduct with the female sex. In support of these statements reference can be made to my record in the juvenile court of Los Angeles.
In giving these motives I have been as honest as I know how. I have searched my mind and impulses under all the circumstances and this is my truthful summary.
William Edward Hickman
As the train carrying Marion Parker’s confessed murderer made its way south, it stopped at every major city, allowing newspapers reporters and the public to gaze at what the media called the “vehicle of justice” en route to its final destination.
After Mr. Keyes read the document describing Hickman’s motives he retired to a private room with a bottle of illegal alcohol. On the few occasions he came out of his compartment he was in no condition to make a public statement.
Chief Davis realized the physical condition of the district attorney would not play out well on the emotionally charged streets of Los Angeles. James Davis had been appointed chief of police little more than a year before the train ride to Oregon. After repeated allegations of corruption in the LAPD, Davis was creating an image for himself as the defender of law and order. His first reform as the new chief had been to create a fifty-man pistol squad he trained to become expert marksman. In a press conference he described the new unity by saying that “the gun-toting element and the rum smugglers are going to learn that murder and gun-toting are most inimical to their best interests. I want them brought in dead not alive and will reprimand any officer who shows the least mercy to a criminal.”
Chief Davis knew that his announced intention to rid the city of Los Angeles of the menace of gun-toting rum smugglers would not be enhanced by the appearance of an inebriated district attorney. To compound his concerns, he received word from one of his assistants describing the main train terminal in downtown Los Angeles as being filled with four thousand people, all gathered in the hope of getting a look at the prisoner. Davis feared the large crowd could easily become unruly and make an effort to take justice into their own hands. He sent a telegram back to his department asking for a security detail of five hundred police officers to meet the train outside the city limits. He would intentionally disappoint the news media as well as the public by bringing Hickman to the county jail by motorcade using back streets and alleyways.
It was an uncharacteristic move for the chief, who had a well-deserved reputation for self-aggrandizing behavior. Originally from Texas, Chief Davis liked to think of himself as being a vestige of the Old West. He had taken the best marksmen from his pistol squad and formed a pistol team, which travelled around the world demonstrating the shooting skills of officers on the LAPD. His favorite demonstration was to have officers shoot cigarettes out of his mouth.
Asa Keyes objected to the change in plans because he wanted the opportunity to impress the media with his quick resolution of a heinous crime. But the district attorney was in no shape to press the issue, and the chief prevailed.
• • •
In Kansas, after several days of uncertainty, Mrs. Hickman began looking for a lawyer to represent her son. Her first choice was the “Great Defender” Clarence Darrow, who had been involved in over fifty murder cases. He refused her request because he claimed he was already committed to several other ongoing cases. What he failed to tell Mrs. Hickman was that he was no longer able to practice law in Los Angeles, because he had been caught trying to bribe a jury and was disbarred from practicing law in California. Mr. Darrow did take the time to listen to Mrs. Hickman’s story, however, and made a recommendation. He suggested that Jerome K. Walsh could devote the time to her son’s defense that it needed. Mrs. Hickman, a divorced woman with limited financial resources, had the additional challenge of being mentally unstable. Without much discussion, she agreed to the appointment of Mr. Walsh as her son’s lawyer. This step would not only give her son competent legal representation but also relieved her of the burden of being the only person speaking on her son’s behalf.
Darrow left the meeting, instructing Mrs. Hickman to make no further comments to the media. She knew her silence would not stop others from speaking to the press, but was relieved she would no longer have to come to her son’s defense. Friends of the family, neighbors, and old schoolmates expressed shock at the news that William Edward Hickman was a suspect in the case. Those who knew him claimed he was a charming young man, sometimes strange, maybe even a little weird, but not a killer.
Walsh was an up-and-coming attorney from Kansas who had been mentored by Darrow. Both men shared a moral aversion to the death penalty, which was the main reason Darrow made the recommendation. Walsh had recently gotten engaged and was concerned a lengthy out-of-state trial would be a strain on his new relationship, but his commitment to opposing the death penalty was strong enough to overcome his concerns, and he agreed to take the case.
During their initial meeting, Walsh told Mrs. Hickman not to believe what was being said. He also gave her no false sense of hope. His job was next to impossible and he knew it. To defend a confessed murderer of a child under normal circumstances was difficult, but when the victim was badly mutilated, when the case was as well-publicized as this one, when the suspect had given a number of confessions, the options for an effective defense were limited. For Walsh the first order of business was to find a lawyer in Los Angeles who could help him navigate the ins and outs of California law.
Jerome Walsh knew the average lawyer would not want his name associated with such a vicious crime, and he was right. After several false starts, he finally met and convinced a young lawyer named Richard H. Cantillon to accept the challenge. Cantillon was a competent attorney, who was unconcerned about public sentiment because he had earned his reputation as a lawyer defending high-profile gangsters in the Los Angeles area. Together they only had a few weeks to analyze, organize, and prepare for a trial of extreme complexity. They needed to address hundreds of legal questions while developing a reasonable line of defense for their client.
The initial legal maneuver was to address the legality of Hickman’s three confessions: the one given by Mr. Hickman to his jailer in Pendleton, Oregon, the second confession given to the newspaper reporter for the Eastern Oregonian, and the third, formal confession dictated to the district attorney on the train en route to Los Angeles from Pendleton, Oregon.
After reviewing their legal options the two lawyers concluded that, despite some procedural issues, they would more than likely be unsuccessful in having the confessions removed from the record. They read all three confessions with interest, hoping to find something that would help their case. The one issue, which struck Jerome Walsh as odd, was Hickman’s behavior just after the kidnapping, when he had taken the frightened victim to the movies at the Rialto Theater in South Pasadena. Walsh was unable to understand why Mr. Hickman would risk capture by taking Marion Parker to a public place, where all she had to do was scream for help. After discussing it with several lawyers and medical doctors, he came to the conclusion it was the action of an insane individual, who held the police in disdain and did not believe they could catch him regardless of what he did. This became the central issue for the defense: was their client insane at the time of the kidnapping?
The biggest legal hurdle the attorneys faced was Mr. Hickman’s remarkable confession to the district attorney. To their dismay the confession dealt bluntly with the motives behind his bizarre behavior. His attempt at eloquence was compelling—as well as legal suicide. Mr. Hickman simply could not grasp the basic concept of the right to remain silent. Walsh believed the need to brag about what he did was further proof of mental instability.
At the first meeting they had with their client, bot
h attorneys admonished Hickman not to discuss the case with anyone. Walsh repeated the warning, unconvinced his client understood the implications of failing to follow the instructions. Walsh’s concerns proved to be well-founded.
While awaiting trial Mr. Hickman wrote a short note to another prisoner inside the Los Angeles jail. Before he could deliver it, one of his guards intercepted it and turned it over to the district attorney’s office. It was a legal nightmare for Hickman’s lawyers. The note read:
Listen Dale, I believe you and believe I can trust you. Give me your advice on which one of these plans would be better. All the depositions aren’t enough to prove me insane. I’ve got to throw a fit in court and I intend to throw a laughing, screaming, diving act before the prosecution finishes their case, maybe in front of old man Parker himself.
Then to bewilder the jury, before the case is ended, I’ll get up and ask the judge if I can say something without my attorney butting in. Then I’ll get up and give all that crap about me wanting to do some good by living.
I intend to rap Mr. Keyes before the thing’s over and pull some trick on him in the crazy line.
Shorty, think these things over and tell me whether it is best or not.
See you in the morning.
William Edward Hickman alias
The Fox Ha! Ha! Ha!
P.S. You know and I know that I’m not insane however.
The legal issue of insanity would now have to be supported by the idea that pretending to be insane is a symptom of insanity. There was some medical support for this notion, but it was going to be an extremely hard sell to any jury. It was a major setback for the defense, but Walsh and Cantillon felt they had no other options; the insanity plea remained their defense.
On January 25, less than a month after being captured, William Edward Hickman was brought into a courtroom on the eighth floor of the Los Angeles Hall of Justice. The room’s decor was austere. The walls of the room were painted white with no pictures and only a black clock hanging above the entrance. Both the defense and the prosecution sat at one long table with about seventy-five seats behind them for the public to view the proceedings. At the time smoking was allowed in the courtroom, so the table for the attorneys was lined with ashtrays. Smoke lingered in the room due to lack of ventilation. The coffee cups next to the ashtrays smelled like rum.