distic crimes could never happen in public places where civilization takes the form of righteous witnesses and law enforcement. Hickock, Smith and Speck were seen as fugitives who valued their lives. They were melodramatic movie-like demons interested in surviving; they were not normal-looking people living and working among us. And they were ugly and probably stupid, too. Capote's vivid depiction of Richard Hickock's tattoos reinforced the commonly-accepted image of mass murderers in America:
|
| | The tattooed face of a cat, blue and grinning, covered his right hand; on one shoulder a blue rose blossomed. More markings, self-designed and self-executed, ornamented his arms and torso: the head of a dragon with a human skull between its open jaws; bosomy nudes; a gremlin brandishing a pitchfork; the word PEACE accompanied by a cross radiating, in the form of crude strokes, rays of holy light; and two sentimental concoctionsone a bouquet of flowers dedicated to MOTHERDAD, the other a heart that celebrated the romance of DICK and CAROL, the girl whom he had married when he was nineteen, and from whom he had separated six years later in order to "do the right thing" by another young lady, the mother of his youngest child. 4
|
Perry E. Smith's tattoos received less attention:
|
| | While he had fewer tattoos than his companion, they were more elaboratenot the self-inflicted work of an amateur but epics of the art contrived by Honolulu and Yokahama masters. COOKIE, the name of a nurse who had been friendly to him when he was hospitalized, was tattooed on his right biceps. Blue-furred, orange-eyed, red-ranged, a tiger snarled upon his left biceps; a spitting snake, coiled around a dagger, slithered down his arm; and elsewhere skulls gleamed, a tombstone loomed, a chrysanthemum flourished. 5
|
|