The Crimes of Texas Are Upon Us : Rogue Cops, Murder-by-Ad and the Death of a High School Narc: It’s Grist for Hollywood’s Mill

Texans rape, pillage, plunder and kill with a flair--a dubious distinction but a distinction nonetheless. That’s not to suggest that we do it expertly or even well, just somehow different. --Reporter Mike Cochran

Late on an August afternoon in 1986, San Antonio policeman Farrell Tucker pulled out his .357 Magnum and killed his best friend, detective Stephen Smith.

The five shots eventually would be heard around the country, as Tucker’s fellow cops--and the national news media--tried to figure what had led the lifelong buddies to a shooting on a deserted Texas street.

In the weeks that followed, Tucker relived the killing as he faced cameras--and brash reporters--from ABC’s “20/20” and Fox Television’s “A Current Affair.”

Nothing, however, prepared him for Hollywood and its offers of quick cash.

“I was in over my head almost instantly,” Tucker related. “A couple of producers even called before Steve Smith was buried. And I told them where to stick it.”

Hollywood has been interested in murder in Texas going back to the beginning of the decade when “Murder in Texas”--the NBC miniseries about the mysterious death of socialite Joan Robinson Hill (starring Farrah Fawcett) garnered blockbuster ratings.

As Dallas author Carleton Stowers puts it: “There’s a mystique about this state which seems to be irresistible. Everything out here is bigger than life. When you have a crime down here in Texas--particularly if it involves millions of dollars--it gets everybody’s motor running.”

So Hollywood’s interest in the San Antonio shooting was inevitable, especially given the case’s extraordinary scenario: It was eventually discovered that Smith had been the leader of a vigilante band and that Tucker had set out to trap him.

For their part, representatives from MGM, Warner Bros., Lorimar Telepictures and a number of independent producers set out to trap the TV/theatrical rights.

John Kander II, then a CBS executive, was among them: “I realized that whatever it was that led two lifelong friends to that deadly confrontation had to be incredible,” he said. “I smelled something more important than a simple killing.”

It was three days after the shooting that Kander first chanced on a radio newscast about the event. That same afternoon he called his producer-friend Harvey Kahn of ITC Entertainment Productions and told him to “go get that story--and bring it back to me (at CBS).”

As Kahn scrambled in Texas for the rights, his reports to Kander became wilder with each day. Farrell Tucker began to emerge as a two-gun hero, and his friend Stephen Smith was increasingly portrayed as a villain and desperado who had held San Antonio in the grip of terror for two years.

“It played out like a Greek tragedy,” Kander recalled. “And it was a tragedy that could only have happened in Texas--with its Wild West mentality and larger-than-life lawmen.”

Author Stowers, who wrote “Innocence Lost,” about the murder of a young undercover narcotics officer in Midlothian, Tex., believes that the TV series “Dallas” has contributed to what he tabbed “the Texas mythology.”

“Americans now have a heightened awareness about the state,” he said.

In “Crime in Texas,” an essay in his upcoming book, “And Deliver Us From Evil,” Associated Press reporter Mike Cochran muses: “This is not to say that Texas has some kind of lock on world-class skulduggery. But consider this: Who would pay to see ‘The Iowa Chain Saw Massacre’? We are all sick to death of J. R., Sue Ellen and of their TV show, ‘Dallas,’ but would 100 million people watch ‘Des Moines’ or, God forbid, ‘Cleveland’?”

But there’s a new wrinkle to crime in the Lone Star State.

Of the state’s 10 hottest book, movie and TV properties, only one involves big money and high society. “Texas Vs. Davis,” another part of Cochran’s book, examines a 10-year-old tale of murder and intrigue involving former Ft. Worth millionaire T. Cullen Davis.

The rest involve down ‘n’ dirty, gritty capers: blue-collar crime.

Texans in the know say there’s good reason for the burst of blue-collar crime.

According to Scott Lubeck, editor-publisher of Texas Monthly magazine and its book division, the state doesn’t know where its next glitzy murder is coming from: “There’s no money to kill over,” he said, only half in jest.

“Most of the rich people I know are poor now,” said Jim Atkinson, veteran Dallas journalist (who has just completed an article for Esquire magazine called “The Death of Dallas”). “This was never smart money. All of a sudden they turned to each other to say, ‘What? Joe Bob, you mean we’re poor?’ ”

Indeed, with Texas in the grip of a recession, millionaires seem to be going bankrupt at the drop of a Stetson. Since 1984 there have been 39 bank failures; 82 million square feet of office space have been vacated in Dallas and Houston; banks have foreclosed on $12 billion worth of real estate.

And the crime rate is soaring--up as much as 30% in some parts of the state. According to the FBI, there were 1,959 murder and non-negligent manslaughter cases recorded in Texas in 1987. That’s 11.7 murders for every 100,000 people. (By comparison, California had 10.6 murders per 100,000 people in 1987.)

Some of those crimes are being carried out with what might be tabbed Texas-style flair--suitable for “framing” by Hollywood.

Consider:

Decorated Vietnam hero-turned-bank robber Jim Little carried out his acts with a chopper and other Vietnam vets--thereby forming what the FBI deemed the first daylight commando squad in the history of American crime. Dallas Morning News Managing Editor Howard Swindle is writing a book about the crime for Texas Monthly Press.

An ad in Soldier of Fortune magazine eventually led to the killing of Marjorie Eimann’s daughter. It was Eimann, a grandmother in Bryan, Tex., who later tracked down hit man John Wayne Hearn, helped to convict her son-in-law (now on Death Row) and went on to win a $9.5-million judgment in a lawsuit against Soldier of Fortune. ITC Entertainment and CBS are developing a miniseries on the case.

Ft. Worth lawman Leonard Schilling pursued a rape suspect for 12 years--and helped to convict him. Upon learning that he had made a mistake and nabbed an innocent man, Schilling turned around and proved the man innocent! The case of the “Texas Fugitive” will be chronicled by AP’s Mike Cochran in his three-case book, “And Deliver Us From Evil.”

Prior to his 1986 paperback best seller, “Careless Whispers,” Carleton Stowers had written more than 20 books. All enjoyed only moderate success; none came close to a Hollywood option.

Little wonder that he initially had a tough time finding a publisher for “Careless Whispers,” the story of three obscure murders that took place on the shores of Lake Waco.

“I have a huge pile of rejection slips on my desk,” Stowers said. “Every major publisher in New York turned it down.”

Taylor Publishing of Dallas finally did the book in hardcover--paying Stowers “a very moderate advance. After expenses, I only made $6,000.” But because it was a runaway best-seller within Texas, “Careless Whispers” wound up being published by Pocket Books in paperback. Taylor Publishing and Stowers split the paperback advance of more than $100,000; 300,000 soft covers have been sold.

And, as Publisher’s Weekly has noted (and Stowers has confirmed), an advance of $350,000 was paid for the rights to Stower’s next two books--this after “Careless Whispers” won the prestigious Edgar Award for the best true-crime book of 1986.

In rapid order, “Careless Whispers” was optioned by producer Dan Witt and Red River Productions for five figures (according to Stower) for a now-in-development CBS movie. The author’s second crime book, “Mandrake, The Reflections of an FBI Undercover Agent,” based on the career of former Dallas FBI agent Larry Wansley, sold to Freddie Fields Productions for $350,000.

(Stower’s latest book, “Innocence Lost,” about the murder of an undercover narcotics agent by students in a drug-infested Texas high school, has yet to be optioned.)

Similarly, “Evidence of Love,” about murder in Texas suburbia, put Dallas writers John Bloom and Jim Atkinson on the map and got them a five-figure option from producer Dan Melnick’s Los Angeles-based Indie Productions, which is developing the story for CBS. The story of a love triangle that led to an ax murder, “Evidence of Love” had its origins as a two-part story in Texas Monthly.

Due to its gory nature, the project was rejected initially by half a dozen New York publishers and a handful of Hollywood producers, said Atkinson.

But, he said, “We knew that the book, if done properly, could rise above the ax-murderess slant. It (the case) was really about romantic entanglements and the quiet desperation that some people have to live with in suburban Texas--which is so promising and beautiful on the surface.”

By depicting an alleged ax murderess as the heroine of her story, Bloom and Atkinson interested Indie Prods.

It’s because of the new awareness in Texas crimes that Cochran and his Texas Monthly editor, John Lumpkin, decided to package some of the cases Cochran has covered in the last 30 years into “And Deliver Us From Evil.”

The first of an ambitious six-book series on crime in the Lone Star State, the book is due next spring.

The flurry of book deals has, of course, led to a flurry of Hollywood deals. And a new-found savvy on making deals.

ITC Entertainment producer Harvey Kahn admitted that he was amazed to find that the participants in the “Soldier of Misfortune” case were aware of even the fine points of a Hollywood deal.

“You don’t get ogled anymore when you roll into town. Without prompting, they say, ‘Of course, we know you will have to make changes. . . . ‘ “

A distinctly middle-class crime, the “Soldier of Misfortune” murder involved an electrician who had his wife killed so that he could have $150,000 in insurance money--and another woman. At first, Robert Black tried to bribe some men in his hometown of Bryan to do the killing. When that failed, he hired a hit man from the classified ad section in Soldier of Fortune magazine.

Ultimately, both Black and the hit man were trapped in an investigation triggered by Black’s mother-in-law, Marjorie Eimann.

“But ‘Soldiers of Misfortune,’ (for CBS), will be much more than a tale of Texas murder,” vowed Kahn, who has been researching the project for more than a year. “It will take you inside the violence industry.”

Now in development for NBC, the Tucker-Smith project is titled “Total Hit”--a slang expression for the San Antonio SWAT team. Producer Kander said it will explore “the conditions that even allow the existence of vigilantes--which allow policemen to step over the line.”

Tucker, who was tried and acquitted for the murder of Smith (the acquittal came after disclosures of Smith’s vigilante activities--including several killings), is hopeful that the project will “show how easily people can be forgotten in this very difficult line of work--police work. Steve was forgotten by the people who should have felt a responsibility to him . . . to protect him . . . and the community.”

Still, Tucker added, “I’m hoping for everything but not confident of a whole hell of a lot.”

His cynicism is the result of his earlier Hollywood go-rounds.

Experiences with television’s “20/20” and “A Current Affair” “turned me off,” Tucker said.

(A spokesman for “20/20” claimed that they did “a very balanced account” of the San Antonio shooting; “Current Affair” anchor Maury Povich said he felt Tucker didn’t like the episode because “Current Affair” questioned whether Tucker might have been a member of the vigilante group. Povich pointed out that before Tucker was acquitted, the two major newspapers in San Antonio also speculated about whether he was involved with the vigilantes.)

Aside from Smith, no other cop was ever named in the Tucker investigation. As a result, Kander and his producing team face an uphill battle in depicting a San Antonio Police Department that they claim was riddled with rogue cops. For starters, they won’t be getting any cooperation from police brass, who refuse to comment on the scandal.

No matter, said Kander and Kahn, who claim that they have developed sources deep within the department.

As a result, they said they were recently allowed to attend an informal, all-night session with more than 30 officers, ranging from rookies to a lieutenant. “It was similar to one of the ‘choir practices’ depicted by Joseph Wambaugh (most notably in his best seller, “The Choir Boys”)” Kahn said. “We just sat down and took it all in as deep background.”

(Screenwriter Joe Gunn’s “credits” include having been a Los Angeles police lieutenant commander for more than a decade. He also created/scripted the detective series “Delvecchio” and has done scripts for series including “Miami Vice” and “Hill Street Blues.”)

The Tucker-Smith case also embodies a bizarre media twist: one in which life imitated “art”--violent Hollywood movies.

As it was learned in a grand jury investigation, Smith and his cronies watched high-body-count movies such as “Death Wish” (the first in the series starring Charles Bronson) and “First Blood” (the first Rambo film) before going out to mete their brand of justice.

And, in effect, they literally brought “Magnum Force” to life.

In that 1973 movie, Clint Eastwood’s Dirty Harry tracked down rogue cops who took the law into their own hands.

As one of Smith’s cohorts--former Army Ranger Bill Brown--told a San Antonio grand jury, Smith would dress in black and cruise the streets, recruiting gun fanatics and others to run with him. (Brown was given immunity in exchange for his testimony.)

Further, Smith reportedly condensed the most blood-drenched scenes from various vendetta films onto two videotapes that he played nightly to put himself into the mood for “night hunting.” He reportedly also recorded screams, explosions and staccato bursts of gunfire onto audio cassettes (which were found in his car following his death).

To date, San Antonio authorities have linked Smith to three deaths, and he is suspected of four additional deaths. All of his victims had, at one time or another, been in trouble with the law.

By no means is the Tucker-Smith case the only Texas case with elements of “playacting.”

David West, the amateur hit man in the Campbell murder case--the subject of two 1988 books (Clifford Irving’s “Daddy’s Girl” and Jack Olsen’s “Cold Kill”)--went through what his mother called “a Charles Bronson phase.” When Houston District Attorney Rusty Hardin learned that one of West’s favorite films was the Bronson vendetta spree, “Death Wish,” he accused West of having “a ‘Death Wish’ mentality.”

Friends of Cynthia Campbell Ray, who hired West to kill her parents, said she mimicked the look of Kate Jackson of television’s “Charlie’s Angels” (by wearing a hair style and clothing similar to Jackson’s character) and spoke deliberately in what she herself dubbed her “Vivien Leigh-’Streetcar Named Desire’ voice.”

As an added Hollywood touch, private detective Kim Paris, who broke the case, dyed her spiked hair pink and dressed in leotards and black fishnet stockings and spiked heels, which she called her “Angie Dickinson (‘Police Woman’) pumps.” It was in this guise that she lured a confession from West.

Two Campbell film projects are in the works. Film producer Elliott Kastner (“Garbo Talks,” “Oxford Blues”) has purchased Olsen’s book, “Cold Kill,” for a feature film. And ITC Entertainment has optioned “The Kim Paris Story” from her own outline.

Then there is the saga of 20-year-old rookie cop George Raffield, who went undercover as a high school student in Midlothian, Tex. According to his family, he’d patterned himself after make-believe narcs depicted on his favorite show, the Fox Network series “21 Jump Street.” After he was killed by a trio of high school-age drug pushers--all of whom were convicted of first-degree murder--”A Current Affair” reported on the killing. The program intercut scenes from “21 Jump Street” with reenactments of the killing.

Not all those involved in Texas crimes are anxious to sell rights to their stories.

“At first, I turned everybody down,” said Kim Paris. (According to Paris, after she pried a confession out of David West, “They (producers) were ganged up outside of my apartment and calling me up 24 hours a day.”)

Now living in St. Louis, Paris explained that she finally sold literary rights to “Cold Kill” author Olsen.

Then came the realization “that everybody was making money off this case but me. The attorneys, Jack Olsen, even the private detective agency that hired me.”

So she ventured out, appearing on the “Donahue” show and granting an interview to People magazine.

But Hollywood, she learned, can be a fickle suitor. “When everything died down, Hollywood interest dried up. So I wrote out an amateur version of a screen treatment and tried to peddle it myself.”

Paris didn’t get a single reply: “But I realized that you can’t beat my story--a girl who worked herself up from the ranks of high school cheerleading and go-go dancing to become, at 23, the youngest private eye in Texas.”

“The plot line was so strong that I kept bombarding Hollywood.”

After dozens of news reports noted that she looks like Debra Winger, Paris wrote the actress, asking her to portray her. “I had this fantasy of Debra playing me, and then going to pick up the Oscar as best actress.”

(Paris claims to have a letter from Winger in which the actress politely declines the opportunity; but a rep for Winger claims she never wrote such a letter.)

It was when Hollywood agent Frank Cooper heard Paris’ story and decided to represent her that Paris’ dreams partly turned to reality: Her story has been optioned by ITC Entertainment.

Paris signed her deal with ITC in July. Three days earlier her own pitch to ITC had been returned--unopened and with regrets.