Rowman & Littefield (2016)
Reviewed by Matthew T. Mangino for
The Champion
James L. Neibaur has written prolifically about the motion
picture industry and Hollywood. His
first foray into true crime is worthy of the silver screen. Neibaur’s Butterfly in the Rain, published by
Rowman & Littlefield, tells the story of William Edward Hickman, a vain and
diabolical egotist who kidnapped and savagely murdered Marion Parker, the 12-
year-old daughter of a banking executive.
Hickman,
who was 19 years old, had delusions of grandeur.
In 1927, he
entered an elementary school in Los Angeles, California and asked to take Parker
out of school, claiming that her father had been in an accident. Despite
seemingly obvious inconsistencies in his story, a member of the school staff—enamored
by the suave and well-spoken Hickman—released the child into his custody.
That night,
Marion’s father, Perry Parker, received a telegram from Hickman demanding a meager
ransom, even by early twentieth century standards. The payoff ended in a
graphic and heart-wrenching exchange between Hickman and Perry Parker.
Hickman was
quickly arrested. His detailed justification for the murder of Parker is
chilling—if not evidence of a mental defect.
He said he killed Marion to (1) evade detection; (2) avoid disappointing
Marion; and (3) an uncontrollable desire to commit a great crime.
Neibaur’s
narrative is based almost exclusively on newspaper accounts of the murder and
investigation. There was no shortage of news account because the sensational nature
of the crime and the closely followed trial generated national attention.
Neibaur also had access to trial transcripts which he quotes from at
length. The transcripts reveal arguments
and testimony that would undoubtedly merit intense scrutiny by modern appellate
courts.
The book is
easy to read, and the pace is quick.
Neibaur’s prose can capture a reader’s attention. There is some repetition which is either to
add length to the book or an ill-conceived effort to build on the sensational
subject matter.
Parker’s
murder came on the heels of the famed Leopold and Loeb trial and shortly before
the infamous Lindbergh kidnapping, lending to the fact that, although riveting,
the Parker murder had been lost to history.
Through the
work of Neibaur this tragic story has been introduced to a new generation of
true crime readers. The book comes at a time when “stranger danger” has driven
lawmakers to enact draconian laws that keeps those who prey on children
locked-up for years and in some instances indefinitely.
Hickman’s
attorneys would raise an insanity defense on behalf of their client. Neibaur
wrote at one point “It was considered by some that his ploy was to appear like
an insane person trying to seem that he was sane.” Neibaur conceded that the scheme was “a bit
convoluted.”
It would
have been interesting to learn more about Hickman’s defense and how it played
out in court. The early use of the insanity defense would have provided a
unique glimpse into the California legal system in the early twentieth century—unfortunately,
that sort of detail was not provided.
Neibaur had
a noticeable bias against Hickman.
Certainly Hickman was not a likeable figure, but Neibaur crossed the
line from storyteller to anti-Hickman zealot as the book progressed from
murder, to arrest, to trial. Neibaur writes, Hickman “was a frightened, angry,
confused, egocentric, petty thief and cold-blooded killer who ended the life of
a little girl . . . “
Scientific
America wrote of lepidopterists “describing butterflies darting into protective
vegetation and scrambling beneath leaves when dark skies, strong breezes and
the first raindrops signal an imminent storm.”
Marion
Parker, unlike the butterfly, didn’t recognize the “imminent storm” as it
gathered in the form of William Edward Hickman.
We’ll never really know Hickman’s true intentions when he went to
pick-up Parker at school, nor his ability to appreciate the difference between
right and wrong. However, this long forgotten tragedy deserves our attention
and we owe a debt of gratitude to Neibaur for bringing it to us.
(Matthew T. Mangino is of counsel with Luxenberg, Garbett,
Kelly & George P.C. in New Castle, PA. His book The Executioner’s Toll,
2010 was released by McFarland Publishing. You can reach him at www.mattmangino.com and follow him on
Twitter @MatthewTMangino)
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