When I sent Allen the book (which happens to take as its narrative backbone the story of a man who claims to be wrongfully convicted of murdering his wife and children), I hoped that we could have a conversation about my role in his life and his legal battle, what I could and could not promise. My intent had been to short-circuit the dishonesty. “He is a kind of confidence man, preying on people’s vanity, ignorance, or loneliness, gaining their trust and betraying them without remorse.”
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“Every journalist who is not too stupid or too full of himself to notice what is going on knows that what he does is morally indefensible,” Malcolm writes. The book Allen mentioned was The Journalist and the Murderer, Janet Malcolm’s 1989 polemic on the emotionally dirty and morally suspect work of nonfiction writing. Rather than being disappointed, I found myself awash in relief when Allen wrote that he no longer wanted me to write about him.
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He was the alleged getaway driver in two murder-for-hire schemes masterminded by south-side drug trafficking kingpins-while he was on parole for a cop killing. While many of their stories would be the stuff of slasher flicks or film noir, Allen’s situation, at first glance, seems like something out of a mafia movie.
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Most of the others are convicted either as serial killers or people who went on murder sprees in bouts of rage or psychosis, killing people they knew or random strangers in a series of acts (or alleged acts) that followed familiar, if shocking, trajectories. Allen is one of only 30 people in the state’s prison system doing time for three or more murders. When I received this neatly penned letter it had been nearly two years since I began corresponding with James Allen, a man serving two life sentences and an additional 100-200 years in the Illinois Department of Corrections for three murder cases. And that is something I'm not interested in. Your letter impressed upon me that you plan to write something of a mini bio of my life. I thought your writing would be about my wrongful convictions in the Gibson and Ciralsky cases. It explains a course of writing that I'm not interested in. Your letter explained to me your approach to writing about me. And after re-reading it, I decided the time had come for me to relieve you of our agreement for you to write about my cases. Your letter came as a disappointment to me.
Thank you for writing and sending the book. And I pray you will have a very good day. Dear Maya,īlessed life to you and yours, always. Warning: This story contains descriptions of physical, sexual, and police violence.
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