Traffic Crimes and Criminals
I
A NEW kind of detective has begun to unravel a comparatively new kind of crime in the United States. He is not yet well known to the public, and so far his exploits have not even come to the attention of writers of mystery tales. These chaps, eager as they always are for fresh ‘copy,’will doubtless catch up with him in time, and when they do, his effective but prosaic achievements (true detective work usually is prosaic) will be inflated to fantastic shapes and sizes like a child’s balloon. Then, no doubt, small boys will hold him in awe and weary men of affairs will regale themselves by reading of his sleuthing.
The most astonishing thing about this new detective is the kind of criminal he seeks. Seldom does he hunt such orthodox villains as murderers, smugglers, and burglars. Rather, his prey includes storekeepers, dentists, clerks, housewives — the kind of people most of us are. The crimes in which he specializes are those which involve violations of the traffic laws. Of course, not every motorist who violates a traffic law is hounded by the detective. Not by any means. He concentrates his attention only upon those whose violations have caused accidents. In 1932, automobile accidents killed 29,500 people in the United States, and one city has at last concluded that the problem calls for the development of new methods on the part of the police.
The kind of work which has proved most effective in promoting safety consists of investigating accidents with the purpose of determining whether they were caused by violations of the law. The investigating officer collects as much evidence as he can, and, if he finds that the law has been broken, he files a complaint against the offender and hales him into court. But there is a trick to this procedure. It is not as easy as it may seem. For, after an accident has occurred, how can one find evidence of a law violation when the damaged automobiles are at rest or even removed from the scene, the statements of witnesses are at variance, and the principals look one in the eye and give contradictory accounts of what happened? The quickest way to explain the method used to accomplish this not inconsiderable task is to describe a recent case in Evanston, Illinois.
II
Two uniformed officers were patrolling the central district of the city in a squad car of the Bureau of Accident Prevention. Over their radio came the message that two automobiles had crashed at the intersection of Monroe Street and Ridge Avenue. The officers sped to the scene immediately. There they found the usual crowd of the curious milling around two crumpled machines that stood in the intersection.
Parking their own car, the officers went to work.
First, was anybody injured? Yes. The driver of the Chevrolet touring car, which had been traveling east on Monroe Street, suffered a laceration of his right arm. It was not serious. One of the officers took first-aid equipment from a case in the squad car and dressed the injury. The man said his name was D. V. Jones.
‘This is what happened,’ Jones explained excitedly. ‘I was going home in my car with some friends, and I came to Ridge Avenue. I stopped, and then I started across. When I got to the middle of the corner — zip! This woman in her car, going about sixty miles an hour, bumped into me. Glass flew all over and I did n’t know anything for a minute.’
The officer took down in his notebook the names of the persons who were in the Jones car. He asked them if Jones’s story was correct. They agreed. Yes, that was what happened.
Having finished bandaging Jones’s arm, he turned to the driver of the other machine, which was a Ford sedan. The woman gave her name as Mrs. T. S. Moulton.
‘How did the accident occur, madam ?’
‘Not the way you have it there,’ she said, glancing at his notebook. ‘I was on my way south on Ridge Avenue, going to my daughter’s home in Chicago. I was traveling between twenty and twenty-five miles an hour when this car darted into the intersection from Monroe Street. I tried to swing around him, but couldn’t, and he hit me. Unfortunately, I was alone and haven’t any witnesses. Mr. Jones did not stop before entering the Avenue.’
Here was a nice case. Obviously one of the drivers was not telling the truth. But why not let them fight it out in civil court? After all, not a great deal of damage was done. That, however, is not what the Evanston accident squads are paid and trained to do. They work for the public, and it is in the public’s interest that violators of the law be discovered and punished; else guilty drivers will continue unrestrained, perhaps to kill somebody.
While the questioning was going on, the other officer was a very busy man. He measured with a tape the skid marks left on the pavement by the two cars. He observed closely the damage caused by the impact. He even took a camera from the squad car, set it on a tripod, and photographed a piece of evidence that seemed to him significant. Then he rejoined his fellow officer.
‘If you don’t mind,’ he said, addressing both Mr. Jones and Mrs. Moulton, ‘I’ll test the brakes on your cars.’
He attached a decelerometer (a device for measuring the rapidity with which cars slow up) to the running board of each car in turn and brought them to a stop from a speed of twenty miles an hour. He observed closely the readings on the instrument. Then he addressed Mr. Jones.
‘Why did n’t you stop before entering Ridge Avenue?’
‘I did,’ Jones replied.
‘These are the skid marks left by your rear wheels, are they not? Notice that they start two feet behind the stop sign and continue to the point of collision forty-eight feet away. You could n’t have stopped, could you?’
‘Well, I slowed down to practically nothing.’
‘But did you? From the test I made of your brakes, you had to be going thirty miles an hour to leave a skid mark forty-eight feet long, and there is no telling how much farther you would have skidded if your car had not struck Mrs. Moulton’s car.’
‘I did n’t strike her car, and I have witnesses to prove it. I have witnesses also who know that she was doing at least sixty miles an hour. How about that? Don’t you fellows care anything about speeding?’
‘One at a time, Mr. Jones. First, I think I can demonstrate to you why it is that I am reasonably sure it was your car that struck hers and not the other way round. Understand, I am not asking you for a confession; I am merely giving you the evidence that will be presented in court. Your car is damaged on the left side and front, and hers on the right side and front. But look here. Do you see the circular dent made in her right front fender? That measures exactly thirteen and a quarter inches in diameter. So does the rim on your left headlight. I photographed both the dent and the light a minute ago. Also observe that some of the green paint is missing from her fender, and take a look at the small piece of green paint sticking to your light. Is n’t it pretty clear to you that your headlight made that dent? And if it did, is n’t it plain that your car did the striking? As for the speed at which she was moving, the skid marks left by her tires measure thirty-six feet. According to the tests I made of her brakes, if she had been traveling sixty, the marks would have been at least two hundred and seventeen feet long.’
This case wound up in court, where Mr. Jones pleaded guilty to failing to heed a stop sign and was fined twentyfive dollars and costs. Not being interested one way or the other in suits for damages growing out of the cases they investigate, the police did not know, when they were asked, how much Mr. Jones had to pay Mrs. Moulton for the injury to her car.
III
When an investigation of an accident in Evanston yields evidence that a traffic law has been violated, the police themselves file the complaint against the suspect. This may seem an unimportant detail, but it is fundamental to successful investigation work because the victim is often willing to withdraw any legal action he may have instituted as soon as he has received a satisfactory settlement of his claims for damages. The case of Nick Mangone, the fruit merchant, illustrates the point.
Nick bought a brand-new automobile and he was very proud of it. The next afternoon he took his wife and children for a ride. He planned to go to the country to show the car to his brother. He had proceeded less than a mile when he stopped for a traffic signal to change, and a heavy coupé crashed into him from the rear. The impact bashed in the body of Nick’s car. It snapped off the supports for his spare tire and tore the tire. It broke his rear bumper and shattered his tail light. Close inspection showed that it also shoved the rear axle forward four inches. It was a hard bump, and Nick’s children in the back seat were bruised and frightened.
The little Italian was angry. He flew out of his car. He called the careless driver every bad name in his twolanguage vocabulary — but with scant satisfaction. This gentleman slouched over his steering wheel in a drunken stupor and scarcely heard or saw his accuser. It was a clear case for the accident investigation squad; little detective work was necessary. Nick’s indignation knew no bounds when they drove up. ‘He smash my new car!’ he cried. ‘He almost kill my children! I have him jailed.’
The case was scheduled on the court docket for the following Thursday. On Wednesday Nick drove up to the police station in a spanking new car. It was not the damaged one repaired. There he found the director of the Bureau of Accident Prevention, the man in charge of the traffic detective work.
‘Mr. Kreml, Mr. Kreml,’ called Nick. His voice was dulcet and his grin sheepish. ‘I think I drop my charge against Mr. Powers. He’s nice man, very nice man.’
‘Do you mean to say that you don’t want to punish a driver who smashes into you blind drunk and comes within an ace of killing your children? Do you want him to do it again and maybe kill somebody next time? What’s the matter with you?'
Nick was ashamed and worried. He said, ‘I know, Mr. Kreml, but the kids, they were n’t hurt. And Mr. Powers, he’s a nice man. He give me a new car and a hundred dollars.’
Naturally it was with satisfaction that Mr. Kreml informed Nick that he had no charge to drop, because he had not filed one. The investigating officers had made the complaint and they would see the case through court — and subpoena the fruit dealer as a witness despite his unwillingness to testify. Nick’s satisfactory settlement was no reason for permitting a drunken driver to operate an automobile undeterred on the streets of Evanston.
Sometimes an accident occurs in which only one person is involved. The drunk who literally wound his car around a large tree was an example. In addition to paying for sundry repairs on his person and many repairs on his automobile, he was convicted of driving while intoxicated and was sentenced to pay a fine of two hundred dollars and costs and spend ten days in jail. A woman drove through two barricades at the dead end of a street and catapulted down a steep embankment almost to the surface of a drainage canal. The downward plunge of her car was stopped only when it collided with the concrete foundation of a bridge which was under construction.
It was a comparatively simple task for the accident investigation squad to find ample evidence that she was guilty of excessive speed and careless driving.
Not infrequently evidence is found that both drivers involved in an accident are guilty of a violation. In these cases the police prosecute both, and, in each separate action, subpoena the other as a material witness.
The cases so far described have required detective work of an intelligent variety which has proved to be exceedingly effective, but occasionally the investigating officers display an ingenuity in gathering evidence which is disconcerting indeed to the breakers of traffic laws. Let me cite a typical instance.
There was a terrific crash between a Packard sedan and an Essex coach, the impact of which was so violent that the lighter machine was thrown ninety-four feet from the point of collision at right angles to its direction of travel. The skid marks of the Packard extended from six feet behind a stop sign to the point of collision and then up over a curb, through some soft earth, and on to a sidewalk, a total distance of ninety-one feet. This car had been removed from the scene before the officers arrived.
The next day in court the driver of the Packard, on advice of counsel, denied that he had exceeded the speed limit.
‘But the skid marks left by your car were ninety-one feet long. That indicates a speed of at least fifty miles an hour, and you skidded more than half of that distance after hitting this other car.’
‘How do you know they were left by my car?’ he asked. ‘On a busy intersection where hundreds of cars pass every day, how can you claim that a particular set of marks was mine? I dare say that the intersection is crisscrossed by dozens of marks where drivers have locked their brakes. You did n’t see my car on the sidewalk where you claim it was; it was removed to a garage before you arrived.’
The officers presented a set of photographs which they had made of the accident and the intersection. One showed the da mage done to the Packard (the picture was made in the garage to which the car was taken), and a second the damaged Essex. A third showed the actual skid marks left by the two cars, and a fourth was a large picture of the corner proving that the view of neither driver was obstructed. The police then presented a diagram tracing the paths of the vehicles both before and after the crash. But the driver of the Packard and his attorney were unimpressed.
‘You can’t prove that those skid marks were left by my client’s car. And, as a matter of fact, they were not.’
So the police played their high trump. The car, which had skidded over the curb, through the soft earth of the terrace, and on to the sidewalk, had left a deposit of dirt on the walk. A close-up photograph of this deposit revealed clearly the herringbone design of the tread of the tire which left it. The police then exhibited a close-up photograph of the right front tire of the Packard — with the identical herringbone pattern.
The driver pleaded guilty to charges of speeding and failing to stop at a through street, and was bound over to the grand jury.
Before passing on to perhaps a more interesting phase — and certainly a more spectacular phase — of the traffic work of the Evanston police, it may be well to pause here and justify the pains that these officers take to convict the violator who has caused an accident. Although the work is punitive in nature, its main purpose is not so much to punish the lawbreaker as to prevent automobile accidents within the city’s limits.
The Evanston Bureau of Accident Prevention began its work on September 1, 1929. In the first eight months of that year eight people had been killed by automobiles within the city. The normal expectancy for the remaining four months was four or possibly five deaths, because September is the highest accident month of the year. But only two deaths from traffic mishaps were recorded between the first of September and the last of December. That was an encouraging start.
In 1930, fatalities were reduced 40 per cent in Evanston, while in the country as a whole they increased 5 per cent. This record is all the more remarkable when one reviews comparative death rates for 1930. During that year in the United States 26.7 persons were killed in automobile accidents in every 100,000 of the population. The rate in Evanston was 10.5. In the same year Wilmette, the neighboring suburb to the north, had a rate of 18.5; Chicago, to the south, suffered a rate of 26.2; and Niles Center, the suburb to the west of Evanston, experienced the terrific death rate of 115.4. It is apparent, then, that Evanston has become a comparatively safe oasis in a death valley. Even drivers from Chicago and North Shore suburbs, who teem through Evanston daily, came quickly to realize that in Evanston an accident could not be dismissed by turning it over to one’s insurance company for the settlement of claims, but that a criminal proceeding would also have to be faced.
Evanston’s good record was continued in 1931, and in 1932 the city won first place among cities of between 50,000 and 100,000 population in the National Traffic Safety Contest conducted by the National Safety Council. It also shared with Pittsburgh the grand prize in the contest.
IV
The most baffling of all the crimes committed with an automobile are those in which the drivers hit and run. This kind of case is often far more difficult of solution than larceny or even murder, because there the clue of motive is lacking — there never is a motive. Nobody wants to kill a person with a car.
Imagine such a case as the following.
Through Evanston runs a boulevard which carries fast traffic from Chicago up into Wisconsin. The thoroughfare is well lighted with electric lamps set in pairs on either side, but one night it was foggy and a misty rain was falling. The lamps emitted a faint yellow glow that barely reached the pavement.
Along the street, pedaling carefully, comes a boy of twelve on a bicycle. He rides about four feet from the righthand curb and frequently looks back over his shoulder to watch for coming automobiles. Finally he arrives at a corner where he must turn left across the boulevard. Looking back, he can see the lights of two automobiles approaching, one nearer than the other, but both far enough off to permit him to cross safely. When he is almost across he sees that the first of these cars is coming at a fast clip on the left-hand side of the street and bearing down on him rapidly. Horrified, he throws his whole weight on one pedal in a desperate effort to get out of the way. His rear wheel slips on the wet pavement. He skids and falls entangled with the wheels of the bicycle.
The driver of the machine, talking with a group of friends, sees nothing in his path until it is too late to stop or swerve around the boy. He hits the prostrate figure, and speeds on through the darkness.
The only witness of the crash was the driver of the other automobile which was approaching. Thinking that the victim was killed, he hurried after the criminal driver and followed him for several miles. He got close enough at one place to see that there were four or five men in the car. This frightened him and he gave up the chase. He hurried back to the scene of the accident, found that the boy had been removed, and then reported to the police station. He had not obtained the license number of the car. All he could say was that it was a big black sedan that looked like a Stutz.
Anybody will agree, I think, that this constitutes a difficult case to solve. The clue is of the scantiest sort; there has been a delay of valuable time between the crash and the report to the police; there could be no motive. Yet by ten o’clock the following morning the driver had been apprehended, had entered a plea of guilty, and had been sentenced to serve a ninety-day sentence in the county jail. Fortunately for him, the boy’s injuries proved not to be fatal.
How did the police do it? As soon as the case was reported, a call was sent out over the radio requesting all squads to be on the lookout for a car of the general description given. About two hours later a squad of plain-clothes detectives cruising the alleys of the city saw a colored chauffeur putting a big Stutz limousine into a private garage behind one of Evanston’s mansions. They questioned him about the accident. ‘No, sah, Ah have n’t been no’th of Main Street all evening. Ah just drove the boss to the movies on Howard Street and come right back here.’ He was sober and cool. The detectives inspected the machine and found nothing amiss. Only because of a blanket order in the department to refer all accident cases to the accident men did they call the station. The chauffeur repeated the same story to these special officers when they arrived. But in scrutinizing the machine they found a pan-like depression on the left front fender and on it a few drops of what might be blood. Scraping off a little of this into an envelope, they left.
The next morning the officers hastened to the crime laboratory of Northwestern University to have the contents of their envelope tested. It was human blood. Returning to the garage, they found the chauffeur.
‘We have come to arrest you for stri king a boy on a bicycle on Dempster Road at eight-thirty last night,’ they informed him.
‘But Ah was n’t on Dempster Road last night,’ replied the Negro.
‘This car was,’ the officers countered, ‘and this car hit the boy. Perhaps we shall have to dust the steering wheel for finger prints to see who besides you was driving it last night.’
Then the chauffeur confessed. ‘Yes, Ah hit him,’ he admitted, ‘but Ah was scared and went on.’ He added that after dropping his boss off at the movies he had taken some of his friends for a ride.
Was it luck that this hit-and-run driver was apprehended? Then perhaps it is luck that accounts for a higher percentage of convicted hit-and-run drivers in Evanston than in any other city in the country. During the three years from 1930 to 1932, 279 of these cases occurred in the city; of these, 224 of the drivers were apprehended and 167 were convicted. Reports from other cities being unavailable, an appraisal of this record can be made by considering the figures for Evanston in 1928 when no accident squads were operating on the streets of the city. In that year 62 hit-and-run cases were reported, 11 of the drivers were apprehended (6 of them by civilians), and only 5 were convicted.
V
On reading of these strange new police activities, the thoughtful citizen in another city may pause and say to himself, ‘That is fine work. My family would be safer in Evanston than here. But it must cost a plenty!’ Oddly enough, the operation of the accident squads in Evanston has not cost the taxpayers a cent. The squads not only protect the people of the city, but actually save them money. When the Bureau of Accident Prevention was organized, not a single man was added to the force, nor has one been added since. Besides, many traffic criminals are required to pay steep fines in Evanston who would go unmolested in other cities.
Some special equipment was purchased, to be sure, but it included little more than a steel tape, a camera and tripod, a decelerometer, and a portable typewriter. Many times this whole outlay has been saved in lamp posts alone. Yes, in lamp posts.
In the summer of 1932, Evanston decided that its old-fashioned corner street lights ought to give way to a modern illuminating system. Tall, graceful cast-iron posts were set on both sides of the principal thoroughfares every one hundred and fifty feet. They were placed near the curb to give maximum illumination to the roadway. But motorists ran into them and knocked them over with unconscionable frequency. The accident squads were given the task of solving this problem. They determined to find each driver who knocked over a post and make him pay for replacing it. Here, in brief, is a typical case.
About the loneliest place in the city is that section of Chicago Avenue which runs between Calvary Cemetery and the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad tracks. One night last fall, sometime after midnight, a driver took a near-by corner on two wheels, leaped the curb, and completely demolished one of the new lamp posts. The damage was not noticed until the following morning when a patrolman passed the place on his way to the station.
The accident investigators found the case very unpromising. On fragments of the post was some black paint. Near by lay a couple of pieces of broken iron. To the layman these would mean nothing at all, but to the officer of the Bureau who has specialized in automobile parts they indicated bumper brackets, La Salle car, 1931 model. Here was a clue.
The officers immediately put in an order at all La Salle car and motorparts dealers in the suburbs and in Chicago to notify them when anybody wanted to buy such a part. Several days passed. Then they received a call from a wholesale house in Chicago which reported that a certain dealer on the west side of Chicago had ordered a set of the brackets. The officers went there, found out who had ordered the part from him, and then hurried to the man’s home. The broken pieces that they had picked up at the scene of the accident fitted perfectly with the pieces still on his bumper. Later he paid a fine for careless driving and reimbursed the city $168 for a new lamp post.
The Evanston police are proud of their ‘lamp post’ record. Between August 1, 1932, and the first of the new year, twenty-one of the posts were damaged. The police apprehended nineteen of the drivers, most of whom paid fines for one kind of violation or another and also stood the cost of a new post. At an average price of about $150, the accident squads saved the taxpayers of Evanston enough money to buy a dozen cameras and decelerometers — in lamp posts alone!
If any one person can be credited with these accomplishments of the Evanston police department it is Franklin M. Kreml, youthful director of the Bureau of Accident Prevention. He perfected the technique of investigating accidents which he found in use in Detroit and Cleveland. He also procured the adoption of his methods by many other police departments. No less than fifty-seven cities have begun to investigate accidents in the manner which Evanston has followed with such success. These cities include Chicago, New York, Washington, Philadelphia, Milwaukee, Wichita, Minneapolis, St. Paul, and many smaller places.
Mr. Kreml estimates that at least a fourth of all automobile accidents are caused by lawless driving. This substantiates a remark made by Edward A. Ross, the sociologist, some years ago when he said that the person who designates the ordinary accident as an ‘ act of God ’ is guilty of blasphemy.
Now, suppose we let the writers of mystery stories go to work!