True Stories of Crime From the District Attorneys Office | Page 6

teens she gave her adopted
parents ground for considerable uneasiness. Accordingly they decided
to place her for the next few years in a convent near New York. By this
time she had attained a high degree of proficiency in writing short
stories and miscellaneous articles, which she illustrated herself, for the
papers and inferior magazines. Convent life proved very dull for this
young lady, and accordingly one dark evening, she made her exit from
the cloister by means of a conveniently located window.
Waiting for her in the grounds below was James Parker, twenty-seven
years old, already of a large criminal experience, although never yet
convicted of crime. The two made their way to New York, were
married, and the girl entered upon her career. Her husband, whose real
name was James D. Singley, was a professional Tenderloin crook,
ready to turn his hand to any sort of cheap crime to satisfy his appetites
and support life; the money easily secured was easily spent, and
Singley, at the time of his marriage, was addicted to most of the vices
common to the habitués of the under world. His worst enemy was the
morphine habit and from her husband Mrs. Singley speedily learned the
use of the drug. At this time Mabel Prentice-Parker-Singley was about
five feet two inches in height, weighing not more than 105 or 110

pounds, slender to girlishness and showing no maturity save in her face,
which, with its high color, brilliant blue eyes, and her yellow hair, often
led those who glanced at her casually to think her good looking.
Further inspection, however, revealed a fox-like expression, an
irregularity in the position of the eyes, a hardness in the lines of the
mouth and a flatness of the nose which belied the first impression. This
was particularly true when, after being deprived of morphine in the
Tombs, her ordinary high color gave way at her second trial to a waxy
paleness of complexion. But the story of her career in the Tenderloin
would prove neither profitable nor attractive.
[Illustration: FIG. 6.--The check on which the indictment for forgery
was brought.]
The subsequent history of the Parker case is a startling example of the
credulity of the ordinary jury. The evidence secured was absolutely
conclusive, but unfortunately juries are generally unwilling to take the
uncorroborated word of a policeman against that of a
defendant--particularly if the defendant be a young and pretty woman.
Here at the very outset was a complete confession on the part of Mrs.
Parker, supplemented by illustrations from her own pen of what she
could do. Comparison showed that the signatures she had written
without a model upon the Peabody sheet were identical with those upon
the forged checks (Fig. 6) and with Mr. Bierstadt's and Miss Kauser's
handwriting. When Mrs. Parker's case, therefore, came on for pleading,
her counsel, probably because they could think of nothing else to do,
entered a plea of insanity. It was also intimated that the young woman
would probably plead guilty, and the case was therefore placed upon
the calendar and moved for trial without much preparation on the part
of the prosecution. Instead of this young person confessing her guilt,
however, she amused herself by ogling the jury and drawing pictures of
the Court, the District Attorney and the various witnesses.
Probably no more extraordinary scene was ever beheld in a court of law
than that exhibited by
Part II of the General Sessions upon Mabel

Parker's first trial for forgery. Attired in a sky blue dress and picture hat,
with new white gloves, she sat jauntily by the side of her counsel
throughout the proceedings toying with her pen and pencil and in the
very presence of the jury copying handwriting which was given her for
that purpose by various members of the yellow press who crowded
close behind the rail. From time to time she would dash off an
aphorism or a paragraph in regard to the trial which she handed to a
reporter. If satisfactory this was elaborated and sometimes even
illustrated by her for the evening edition of his paper.
The Assistant District Attorney complained that this was clearly a
contempt of court, particularly as the defendant had drawn a picture not
only of himself, but of the presiding justice and a witness, which had
appeared in one of the evening papers. The Court, however, did not see
that anything could be done about it and the girl openly continued her
literary and artistic recreation. The Court itself was not a little amused
at the actions of the defendant, and when Detective Peabody was called
to the stand the general hilarity had reached such a pitch that he was
unable to give his testimony without smiling. The natural result,
therefore, at the first trial,