Post by Anja on Jun 11, 2006 16:50:41 GMT -5
Cool guy of true crime plays me like a cheap guitar
It was hot Thursday. Not hot enough to sizzle your brain like a fried egg
in a cast iron skillet, but hot.
The man waiting for me in the lobby was cool - cool like Steve McGarrett
from "Hawaii Five-O," except his heavy mane was shaded white, and he
didn't wear a snappy suit like Jack Lord, just an opened white shirt, and
he didn't say "Book him, Danno," and he wasn't from Hawaii.
But Eddie was cool - like a California gumshoe straight from a 1950s dime
store "whodunit." In fact, that's just why Eddie had come to see me, to
talk about detective stories, quirky mysteries and murder. About men sent
to the slammer, men who cry like parrots who have memorized one word:
"Innocent."
Forgive my cheesy, pulp fiction intro. It was inspired by reading the
material of Edwin D. Krell, former reporter for the Houston Chronicle and
the Globe-Democrat and the author of "1,600 true mysteries" for the long
gone "Inside Detective" and "Front Page Detective" magazines. The Olivette
resident wouldn't tell me his age. "Just say I'm old enough," Krell said.
A few weeks ago, during a St. Louis Press Club event, Krell reminisced
about his days at the Globe and about his side gig as a Midwest
correspondent for detective magazines distributed by Dell Publishing
Company.
"In those days, newspapers didn't pay much," Krell explained after we'd
sat down to talk. "Dell paid about 200 bucks per story and 10 bucks per
photo. That was good dough back then."
Krell called asking if I'd be interested in discussing his eventual
full-time job as a detective magazine writer.
"It's too sedate in here," Krell said as we walked through the Post's
newsroom. Back in his day, he said, newspapers were bustling places filled
with chain-smoking reporters, clacking typewriters and cursing editors.
"What do you guys use nowadays? Word processors?" he asked before telling
me he still cranks out stories on an old IBM Selectric typewriter.
One of those stories helped save a convict 72 hours before his scheduled
execution.
That story started in 1958 after he'd written about two men convicted of a
double murder during a grocery store holdup in Uniontown, Ohio. The
magazine received letters from readers trying to secure a new trial for
one of the convicts, Dale Bundy. His alleged accomplice, Russell McCoy,
implicated him in the Uniontown killings after Bundy told police McCoy had
killed his half sister and her husband. After his arrest in early 1957,
McCoy told police it was Bundy who was the trigger-man in the grocery
store killings. Bundy was sentenced to the electric chair based largely
the testimony of McCoy, who pleaded insanity for his crimes.
Krell interviewed reporters, police officers, prosecutors and trial
witnesses. A woman in Texas who read Krell's story testified at Bundy's
new trial that she saw McCoy enter the Uniontown store alone. The jury set
Bundy free just 3 days before his execution date.
Krell left a stack of his other detective stories with me. A detailed 1955
"Inside Detective" story, titled "A Murder That Never Happened," told of
Harold Emrich, 19, sent to prison for 25 years for murdering a woman who
coroners stated had died of natural causes. Emrich admitted that he and a
few friends had broken into the woman's house and stole cash after her
death. But one of his cohorts told police Emrich killed the woman, and he
was sent to jail for 25 years. Krell's story detailed how the sheriff and
prosecutor coerced the confession. Emrich was released shortly after the
story was published.
St. Louis police Maj. F.J. "Pete" Vasal and Krell co-wrote a book in the
1980s titled "Killer Cops." Krell has another manuscript based on the
real-life story of a California man, Robert E. Williams, who confessed to
murder simply to get the attention of an estranged girlfriend. The man,
who was given a 25-year sentence, confessed to another murder while in
prison, just to prove how he had faked the first confession. For his
troubles, Williams received another life sentence. His case, dubbed the
"Strangest in the history of crime in California" by a local newspaper,
took a bizarre turn after Williams proved his own innocence after he was
paroled in 1975.
Tenacious undercover skills and dogged dedication is well-documented in
Krell's work. A part of me hoped the seasoned reporter simply felt a
kinship of sorts. But, I get the impression he hopes to attract a
publisher, the sort still interested in crime fiction noir.
That's OK. I enjoyed reading Krell's work . . . even if he played me like
a three-stringed, cheap guitar, purchased from a roadside vintage shop by
a wrongly convicted blues musician heading to Memphis for one last
concert, like a one-note parrot singing a song of innocence.
(source: St. Louis Post-Dispatch)
It was hot Thursday. Not hot enough to sizzle your brain like a fried egg
in a cast iron skillet, but hot.
The man waiting for me in the lobby was cool - cool like Steve McGarrett
from "Hawaii Five-O," except his heavy mane was shaded white, and he
didn't wear a snappy suit like Jack Lord, just an opened white shirt, and
he didn't say "Book him, Danno," and he wasn't from Hawaii.
But Eddie was cool - like a California gumshoe straight from a 1950s dime
store "whodunit." In fact, that's just why Eddie had come to see me, to
talk about detective stories, quirky mysteries and murder. About men sent
to the slammer, men who cry like parrots who have memorized one word:
"Innocent."
Forgive my cheesy, pulp fiction intro. It was inspired by reading the
material of Edwin D. Krell, former reporter for the Houston Chronicle and
the Globe-Democrat and the author of "1,600 true mysteries" for the long
gone "Inside Detective" and "Front Page Detective" magazines. The Olivette
resident wouldn't tell me his age. "Just say I'm old enough," Krell said.
A few weeks ago, during a St. Louis Press Club event, Krell reminisced
about his days at the Globe and about his side gig as a Midwest
correspondent for detective magazines distributed by Dell Publishing
Company.
"In those days, newspapers didn't pay much," Krell explained after we'd
sat down to talk. "Dell paid about 200 bucks per story and 10 bucks per
photo. That was good dough back then."
Krell called asking if I'd be interested in discussing his eventual
full-time job as a detective magazine writer.
"It's too sedate in here," Krell said as we walked through the Post's
newsroom. Back in his day, he said, newspapers were bustling places filled
with chain-smoking reporters, clacking typewriters and cursing editors.
"What do you guys use nowadays? Word processors?" he asked before telling
me he still cranks out stories on an old IBM Selectric typewriter.
One of those stories helped save a convict 72 hours before his scheduled
execution.
That story started in 1958 after he'd written about two men convicted of a
double murder during a grocery store holdup in Uniontown, Ohio. The
magazine received letters from readers trying to secure a new trial for
one of the convicts, Dale Bundy. His alleged accomplice, Russell McCoy,
implicated him in the Uniontown killings after Bundy told police McCoy had
killed his half sister and her husband. After his arrest in early 1957,
McCoy told police it was Bundy who was the trigger-man in the grocery
store killings. Bundy was sentenced to the electric chair based largely
the testimony of McCoy, who pleaded insanity for his crimes.
Krell interviewed reporters, police officers, prosecutors and trial
witnesses. A woman in Texas who read Krell's story testified at Bundy's
new trial that she saw McCoy enter the Uniontown store alone. The jury set
Bundy free just 3 days before his execution date.
Krell left a stack of his other detective stories with me. A detailed 1955
"Inside Detective" story, titled "A Murder That Never Happened," told of
Harold Emrich, 19, sent to prison for 25 years for murdering a woman who
coroners stated had died of natural causes. Emrich admitted that he and a
few friends had broken into the woman's house and stole cash after her
death. But one of his cohorts told police Emrich killed the woman, and he
was sent to jail for 25 years. Krell's story detailed how the sheriff and
prosecutor coerced the confession. Emrich was released shortly after the
story was published.
St. Louis police Maj. F.J. "Pete" Vasal and Krell co-wrote a book in the
1980s titled "Killer Cops." Krell has another manuscript based on the
real-life story of a California man, Robert E. Williams, who confessed to
murder simply to get the attention of an estranged girlfriend. The man,
who was given a 25-year sentence, confessed to another murder while in
prison, just to prove how he had faked the first confession. For his
troubles, Williams received another life sentence. His case, dubbed the
"Strangest in the history of crime in California" by a local newspaper,
took a bizarre turn after Williams proved his own innocence after he was
paroled in 1975.
Tenacious undercover skills and dogged dedication is well-documented in
Krell's work. A part of me hoped the seasoned reporter simply felt a
kinship of sorts. But, I get the impression he hopes to attract a
publisher, the sort still interested in crime fiction noir.
That's OK. I enjoyed reading Krell's work . . . even if he played me like
a three-stringed, cheap guitar, purchased from a roadside vintage shop by
a wrongly convicted blues musician heading to Memphis for one last
concert, like a one-note parrot singing a song of innocence.
(source: St. Louis Post-Dispatch)