Nature of the Crime
The most brutal murder ever committed in Calloway county was discovered at an early hour this morning when the body of Dr. Otis Bennett, literally hacked to pieces, was found in the basement of his home.
Clues
The Davenport police have in their possession a large bone-handled knife which has been identified as the property of Hugo O'Neal, colored, of Cushman. The knife was found under Col. Andrew Alton's bedroom window after an attempted robbery of his home at an early hour this morning. O'Neal has not been seen since yesterday.
Results
Tim Atkins is probably dying at his shanty on Davis Street as a result of a difficulty between him and Isom Werner over a woman they met on their way home from the circus last night.
228. Body of the Crime Story.—The body of the crime story, like that of the accident, follows the lead in a simple chronological narration of events. Interest may be added by quoting direct statements from persons immediately connected with the crime,—how it feels to be held up, how the robber gained entrance to the building, how the bandits escaped. In stories of burglaries and robberies the value of the stolen goods and any ingenious devices for gaining entrance to the house, stopping the train, or halting the robbed party should always be given. It may be added that, unless the purpose is entirely obvious, as in robberies and burglaries, due emphasis should be given to the motive for the crime. One should be on one's guard, however, against accepting readily any motive assigned. The star reporter never takes anybody at his word—the police, the detectives, or even the victims—in any statement where crime is involved. He investigates for himself and draws his own conclusions.
229. Caution against Libel.—An additional caution should be added here against libel, because of the strong temptation always to make an accused person guilty before he has been adjudged so. According to American law, a person suspected of or charged with crime is innocent until he has been proved guilty. In writing crime stories, therefore, the reporter must be doubly careful to have a supposed criminal merely "suspected" of misappropriating funds, or "alleged" to have made the assault, or "said by the police" to have entered the house. And in order to present an unbiased story, the side of the supposed malefactor should be given. In the intense excitement resulting from a newly committed crime, or in the squalid surroundings of a prison cell, an accused person does not appear to his best advantage, and it is easy for the reporter to let prejudice sway him, perhaps causing irreparable injury to innocent persons. The race riot in Atlanta, in 1905, in which numbers of innocent negroes were murdered, was a direct result of exaggerated and sensational stories of crime printed by yellow newspapers. And the whole long trial and verdict against Leo M. Frank were directly affected by the same papers. If the opinion of readers is to be appealed to, the reporter should leave such appeals to the editorial writers, whose duty it is to interpret the news and sway the public whenever they will or can. The reporter's duty, as far as possible, is to present mere facts.
XVI. SPORTS
230. Slang.—In writing stories of athletic meets and games the reporter will find that in matters of language he has almost complete freedom. For this there are two reasons: the fact that it is necessary half the time to get final results of contests into print within a few seconds or minutes after the outcome has been decided, and the fact that athletic devotees—"fans" in American slang—are not naturally critical. Time is the all-important element with them. The results of a baseball game are wanted within a few seconds after the last man has been put out in the final inning. Whether the writer says the Red Sox defeated the Tigers, or nosed them out in the ninth, or handed them a lemon, means little to the followers of the game provided the information is specifically conveyed that Boston beat Detroit. Slang is freely used,—so much so that the uninitiated frequently cannot understand an account of a game. The "fans" can, however, and they constitute the public for whom reporters on the sporting pages maintain they are writing. If, then, one can brighten up his sporting stories—make them sparkling, electric, galvanic—by using slang, he will find them acceptable to any editor. The only caution to the beginner is that he must be sure every detail is clear to the "fans." Slang can easily be overdone,—much more easily than one would suppose,—with the result that an otherwise good story is choked with near humorous, foggy jargon. Better no slang than a story cloyed with it.[25]