Kitty Genovese: A True Account of a Public Murder and Its Private Consequences (17 page)

Though some of her friends at Ev’s had confided this information to detectives, it seems unlikely, given their affection for Kitty and the climate of the time, that any of them mentioned it to reporters.

In his “KITTY WORSHIPPED LIFE IN THE CITY” article, Edward Weiland added a few details about Kitty’s background, concluding the biographical sketch with a mention that she was taking art lessons at a studio in Kew Gardens, calling her “an artist of great sensitivity.” As it turned out, Kitty was not taking art lessons. It was Mary Ann who took classes at the Downstairs Art Gallery, a small place on the ground floor of the Tudor building, right next to the hallway where Kitty’s body had been found.

Weiland’s article for the
Long Island Star-Journal
ran on the same day, March 14. Headlined “STAB VICTIM ‘LOVED LIFE,’ ” it gave essentially the same information as his report for the
Long Island Press
.

The
Long Island Star-Journal
included a related story above Weiland’s. Across the top of the front page, the headline read, “KITTY KNEW HER KILLER.” Stating that police believed Kitty may have known the man who killed her, it went on to give a description of the suspect and his car. As for the crime itself: “At least a dozen persons questioned heard Kitty’s scream for help, detectives said, and several of these said they saw the man described bending over her fallen form, then straighten up and run away.”

The article also mentioned that police were still questioning persons in the apartment buildings.

chapter 8

FREDERICK LUSSEN KNEW
the city as well as any man and better than most. What his detectives were telling him about the murder in Kew Gardens did not seem to fit.

Like his father before him, Lussen had made a career in the NYPD. He had joined the force in 1935, moving up steadily through the ranks. In March of 1964, at fifty-four years of age, Lussen was now an assistant chief inspector in the department with the Queens detective bureau under his command. In his twenty-nine years with the NYPD, Lussen had worked a wide range of investigations that included mob shootings, gang homicides, and the Mad Bomber case of the 1950s. He was no stranger to violent crime. Yet he was confounded by the Kew Gardens slaying. Not that a vicious murder in a quiet neighborhood was unprecedented—that kind of thing did happen on occasion, even in places it might least be expected. What surprised a veteran like Inspector Lussen were the reports concerning the witnesses in this nice neighborhood.

Scores of people in that densely populated area had heard the screams. Dozens had watched some portion of the woman’s struggle at different points over a thirty-minute period of time. No one had helped the woman in time to make a difference, and a lot of people were refusing to cooperate with the investigation.

Lieutenant Bernard Jacobs had informed Inspector Lussen of the murder on the morning it occurred. Lussen visited the crime scene.
He participated in the investigation in both a supervisory and active role, being present during the questioning of some individuals. He also reviewed the growing pile of DD5s. In the end, the DD5s on this case would total more than one hundred pages, though the investigation would last only a total of six days.

Beyond what any of the neighbors had or had not done that night, there was a
strangeness
here; an attitude incongruous with the wholesome, inviting appearance of the community, a feeling that some neighbors thought the murder more of a curiosity—or worse, an annoyance—than a tragedy, a curious happening of which they wanted no part.

This was certainly not true of every resident in Kew Gardens. Certainly not Sophie or Greta, nor even Andree Picq and others like her who admitted they had been overcome by fear, frozen like the terrified deer in the headlights. Presumably there were other people in the community who would have come to Kitty’s aid or called police promptly, if only they had they seen or heard what the others had.

Tragically, inexplicably, it seemed Kitty’s murder had been witnessed by all the
wrong
people.

But aside from those too frightened, those who had heard too little to know what was happening, and those who had miscalculated the severity of the situation, in certain others the sense of detachment was palpable, as if the agony endured by a neighbor had no more bearing on their lives than would a broken traffic signal on Austin and Lefferts. Somebody should fix it, but not me.

Whatever this element was, this strangeness in attitude and inaction, it existed in such measure that experienced New York City detectives were taken aback by it. What was the problem with these people? None of the detectives had the answer to that. But they had to deal with its impact on their investigation, which left many of them feeling less than charmed by this neighborhood.

Inspector Lussen not only understood the astonishment and anger of the detectives, he shared it.

Lussen found the situation so remarkable that he brought it to the attention of the top brass, Police Commissioner Michael Murphy. This
chain of information would shortly be the undoing of the sanctity of Kew Gardens. For now, however, in these first days of the investigation, the detectives working the case had only one another to share their disgust as they forged through circumstances that had struck them at once as particularly distasteful.

Though it had not yet attracted the attention of the influential
New York Times
, the inaction of the neighbors quickly became a topic for New York City newspapers of lesser distinction. It is worth noting, however, that all other newspapers in New York, arguably all other newspapers across the country, were regarded as less distinguished than the mighty
New York Times
. Based in Manhattan, and with far more of a focus on that borough than the other four, the
New York Times
did not have a full-time reporter assigned to Queens. But other papers did.

Local crime reporters typically cultivate relationships with the police in order to stay abreast of crime-related news and investigations. So it was in this case, and so it was that reporters for newspapers such as the
New York Journal-American
and the
Long Island Star-Journal
almost immediately became aware of the questionable behavior of the witnesses in Kew Gardens. On March 15, 1964, only two days after the murder of Kitty Genovese, the
Journal-American
ran an article at the top of page three with the headline, “40 MINS. THAT CUT A LIFELINE IN A GIRL’S SLAYING.” A text box directly below the headline had the word WANTED in bold capital letters, followed by a detailed description of the suspect. Written by Joan Hanauer and Seymour Spector, the opening paragraphs read:

“Carl
4
Ross heard Kitty Genovese’s desperate, dying screams.

He saw the girl lying in his Queens doorway, her face contorted in her final agony, her body covered with blood from 15 stab wounds.”

After stating that Ross had called a friend and giving details of his arrest on the morning of March 13, the article continued: “At least
four other people told police that they had heard the cries. But it was 40 minutes before anyone called the police, before help was sought. Too long for Kitty Genovese! She died.”

The story summarized, somewhat vaguely and inaccurately, the details of the crime, adding that the police had not ruled out the possibility that the killer was a woman, or that there may have been more than one assailant. The last two paragraphs gave first a somewhat fanciful description of the neighborhood, then a macabre detail, written with a dramatic flourish that made it clear the reporters shared the sense of indignation felt by law enforcement:

“The section of Kew Gardens where it happened is a miniature Greenwich Village transported to Queens, dotted with art shops and espresso (sic) bars.

“A new landmark in the doorway of 82-62 Austin St. are the handprints of dying Kitty Genovese, clutching the wall as she fell.”

DETECTIVES CONTINUED QUESTIONING
residents in the days and nights immediately following the murder. On March 14 they spoke with a man in a private home who had been awakened by the screams at exactly 3:20 a.m. He had looked at the clock in his room. Hearing a female voice calling for help, he rose and went to the window, opened it, and looked out to see a male running north on Austin Street. His description of both the fleeing man and his actions—jumping into a car by the bus stop, backing it down Austin—matched what others had described. After watching the car disappear, the witness said he heard no more screaming or commotion and he went back to bed.

Detective Mitchell Sang also took a report on March 14 from a couple who stated they “observed a man run from along Austin Street from the location the deceased was first assaulted to an auto parked in bus stop at the north east corner of Austin St. and Mowbray Pl. Auto appeared to be parked the wrong way on Austin St. and said auto drove north towards 82nd Ave.”

Another report taken on March 14 yielded a man who had heard a woman scream “I’m stabbed” but saw nothing when he looked out his
window; a woman who heard a female voice scream, “I’m dying, please help me!” but saw nothing when she looked out her window.

On March 15, Detectives James Munson and Robert Monroe questioned four others:

—Saw man run to parked white car in bus stop on the wrong side of street, jump in from sidewalk side and roar up the street, saw girl walk around the building as though nothing was wrong. Type car unknown.

—Heard “He’s got me George” twice. Did not see or hear a car nor see anything [of the attack].

—Saw her running and man chasing her, then she fell and the man stood over her. Perpetrator left and she got up and walked normally around corner. Saw no car nor stabbing by perpetrator.

—Heard “Oh my God, I’m stabbed,” saw man with thin legs and tight pants run up Austin Street . . . saw girl on her knees, then she stood up and then stooped down as though picking up something and walked around the corner.

Also on March 15, Detective Charles Prestia interviewed a woman in the Mowbray who stated that on March 13 she had been informed by her husband of a female calling for help. She looked out her window and directly across the street she saw a man looking in doorways of stores. She lost sight of him when he walked to the rear of the stores.

More witnesses. Nothing very different.

At least these people had spoken with the police. There were some who outright refused to do so, waving officers off as they would so many flies.

“We had a major job just trying to get people to give us information,” said Detective Charles Prestia. “It was very unusual, so many people who just wouldn’t cooperate.

“Some people emphasized how awful the screams were. Some we asked, why didn’t you call us then? They said, ‘well, I didn’t see anything,’ or ‘I didn’t see much.’ Come on, now. How much do you need to see?”

Some had replied defensively, “What was she doing out so late anyway?”

Others, police felt sure, were lying when they claimed to have neither seen nor heard anything of the crime that night. “There was no doubt about that,” said Prestia. “They wanted nothing to do with this. And some of them told us so.”

The questioning was not limited to residents. All of the businesses in the vicinity were canvassed for leads on the crime or the victim. The night bartender at the Austin Bar & Grill was interviewed at 3:00 a.m. on March 14. He told detectives that he had closed the premises at about 1:30 a.m. the night before, March 13, and that he had not had any customers that night fitting the description of the possible perpetrator. According to the bartender, none of the customers present at the time of the interview had been in the premises the night before. When shown a photograph of Kitty Genovese, he recognized her as an occasional customer. He had first served her about four months ago, soon after he started working there. The last time he served her was about three weeks ago. On both occasions he had sold her a six-pack of beer. He had not seen her other than these two times.

The night man at the pizza parlor at 81-28 Lefferts Boulevard informed detectives that though he usually stayed open until 3:00 a.m., he had closed at 2:30 a.m. the night before due to business being very slow.

The owner of the Kew Gardens Hofbrau, a restaurant at 81-11A Lefferts Boulevard, told detectives that he often saw Kitty in his establishment, always in the company of a woman. He never saw her there with a man.

The Interlude Coffee House, next door to the hallway where Kitty had been found by police, featured live entertainment. An assortment of self-styled poets and folk musicians performed there several nights a week, but closing time was 11:00 p.m. Everyone had been long gone by 3:00 a.m. A waitress at the Interlude recognized Kitty as a customer but could be of no help in the investigation.

In addition to a stakeout of Ev’s Eleventh Hour (in hope of spotting a car matching that of the suspect’s), detectives also waited by the Kew Gardens train depot on the morning of March 14. A train en route from Long Beach to Pennsylvania Station stopped at the Kew
Gardens station at 2:55 a.m. No passengers either exited or boarded the train. There was no attendant on duty at the station. No persons were observed in the waiting room or on the platform, nor was anyone found to be loitering around the area.

Police also checked any delivery persons whose early morning routes took them through Kew Gardens, and this did produce an important result. Edward Fiesler was a milkman. On the early morning of Friday, March 13, he was dropping off a delivery at the grocery store on Austin Street, next door to the corner drugstore. When questioned by Detective Mitchell Sang that same day, Fiesler said he had seen only one person on the street during the time in question: a black male, about five-foot, eight-inches tall with a slim build, wearing a jacket and hat. Fiesler observed this man walking north on the east side of Austin Street between Lefferts Boulevard and Mowbray Place. Because the man walked by him at a casual pace and because of the streetlights, Fiesler had gotten a good look. Having neither seen nor heard anything of the violence beforehand, the milkman had been in a calm frame of mind at the time of this sighting. Detective Sang found Fiesler’s description of sufficient importance that he recorded it on an individual DD5.