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:
“Carl4 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 se
rved 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.
While the milkman had provided some potentially key information, he was the only non-resident who had anything of value to add to the investigation. The police, therefore, had to shift their focus back to the neighbors. The apartment buildings were canvassed three to four times, much to the irritation of some occupants. “We got some attitude, some people saying, ‘How many times you guys gonna come around here?’ and that kind of thing,” recalled Detective Charles Prestia. In view of the seriousness of the crime, detectives needed to gain as much information as they could. The investigation took priority over the desire of some neighbors to be left alone.
Re-canvassing is standard procedure. Not only do police want to question anyone they missed the first time around, but they also know from experience that some witnesses are not immediately or completely forthcoming, whether intentional or not, the first time they are interviewed. Sometimes they recall more details during a follow-up interview, or add things they did not wish to divulge the first time around.
At times the most valuable information from a witness comes forth gradually, leaking in drips and drops as if from a clogged faucet, choked by the detritus of fear and self-interest. Detectives determined to solve a case will wait like parched men, holding cups beneath the sluggish stream of information trickling out, hopeful of catching that drip or drop that might prove crucial.
It often pays off. At times the metaphorical faucet will suddenly open with a shower of new information. A case in point was Mrs. Archer, an occupant of the Tudor building, who gave police a far more detailed account of what she had witnessed on the night of March 13 during a second interview on March 16. Speaking with her in her apartment in the Tudor building, Detective Joseph Price took her story down in detail.
At about 3:20 a.m., Mrs. Archer was in front of the TV in her living room watching the movie, Letter to an Unknown Woman. Toward the end of the movie (“at the part when Louis Jourdan was reading the letter”) she heard a female shouting “Help Me” two or three times. At first she thought the sounds were coming from the apartment next door to hers. She got up and listened at the wall but didn’t hear anything.
When she heard the next cry of “Help Me” she went to her bedroom window. Detective Price noted that this window was directly over the place of occurrence. Mrs. Archer looked out the closed double-hung window and saw nothing. She then heard a piercing scream, “Help me. Please, if somebody doesn’t help me, I’m going to die!”
Looking out the top part of her window, Mrs. Archer looked down and saw a female. She could only see part of her, so she opened the bottom half of the window and put her head out so she could observe the whole block. It was quiet at this time and at first she didn’t hear or see anything further, except for the woman on the sidewalk directly below her. The woman was squatting, facing downward. A woman with a black coat and dark hair.
Mrs. Archer then closed her window. She said to someone in her apartment, “There is a woman on the ground.” She then looked out the top part of her window again and observed this woman getting up. Mrs. Archer continued: “I looked across the street to see if the elevator man in the apartment house [Mowbray] came out.” She thought he might, with all the screams. But he didn’t.
Mrs. Archer turned her attention back to the woman on the sidewalk. “I then watched her walking, zig zag, to the corner. It appeared that she was turning toward the drugstore. She definitely wasn’t going straight.”
After this, Mrs. Archer noticed a man coming across the street. He headed in the same direction the woman had gone. Her description of him was “male, white, late 20s or early 30s, he was average, not tall nor short, average build, don’t remember a hat, grey coat, rain or shine type, full length.” She added that this man “should have heard her screams and saw the deceased at the corner by the drugstore.” Per the statements from other witnesses, police knew the man who headed after Kitty was her attacker. At the time she saw him, however, Mrs. Archer did not realize this. Upon seeing this man follow after the woman, Mrs. Archer had commented to her husband, “He’ll probably help her, if she needs help.”
Mrs. Archer said she thought the woman was drunk, sick to her stomach.
At this point, someone else in the Archer apartment awoke, distracting Mrs. Archer for a minute or so. She estimated the time that elapsed from the first scream to this time was about four to five minutes.
After speaking briefly with her husband, Mrs. Archer returned to the television. She was watching the end of the movie when she heard banging. Thinking at first that the banging came from her front door, she didn’t answer it right away because she was frightened, thinking somebody was trying to break in. She put on her robe, went into the dining room and called, “Who is it?” A male voice replied, “I’m your neighbor, I’m on the roof.”
Mrs. Archer went to the window in her living room, a window that faced not Austin Street but a flat, inner area on the roof of the building. She pulled up the shade to find her neighbor Karl Ross standing outside. Immediately she heard a woman’s voice calling, “Help me, it’s Kitty . . .”
Mrs. Archer then told Detective Price, “I said to my neighbor Karl, ‘I heard screams.’ He stated he didn’t hear them, he was sleeping. He said for me to phone Sophie Farrar, she lives in her building [sic], she should come over and see if it is Kitty, and I said I don’t know her number and I don’t have a phone, the only number I know is Greta Schwartz.” Mrs. Archer gave him Greta’s phone number.
“Karl also stated that he didn’t want to get involved, he wanted somebody else to see if it was Kitty. He thought she was drunk.”
According to Mrs. Archer, she then left her window and walked into her bedroom. She told her husband about the woman moaning in Karl’s hallway and asked if he thought she should call the police over the police call box, to which he replied “No.” The police call box, a freestanding phone that linked a caller directly with the 102nd precinct, stood on the corner of Austin Street and Lefferts Boulevard.
Once again, she heard banging on her window. Karl had returned, telling her he had spoken to Greta but hadn’t heard back from her. (Greta Schwartz at this time would have been on her way downstairs to see what was wrong with Kitty.) Mrs. Archer continued: “Karl then stated, ‘Should I call the police?,’ and I told him that’s what I would do. Karl then left to call the police.”
Mrs. Archer said that the time elapsed from the first cry of help to when Karl called the police was about twenty minutes.
Detective Price ended his report of the interview by noting that Mrs. Archer was willing to take a lie detector test. He assured her that if she had any additional information, her identity would remain a secret.
Karl Ross confirmed that he had crossed the roof to Mrs. Archer’s apartment that morning, although his reasoning had been that he wanted her or another neighbor to call the police because he had been too drunk. This did not jibe with what Mrs. Archer claimed Ross had told her, that he had not heard the first screams because he had been asleep. And of course Ross had had the presence of mind to phone his friend in Nassau County for advice (which he had then ignored), cross the roof to Mrs. Archer’s, and then phone Greta Schwartz to come over and “see if it really is Kitty.” He also acknowledged that he had opened his front door during the attack in his hallway, but claimed he only opened the door enough to listen.
Police now had the sequence of events after Kitty had entered the back of the Tudor building at 82-62 Austin Street:
Kitty Genovese: A True Account of a Public Murder and Its Private Consequences Page 13
