Crime and Publishing

Mark Singer's inquiry into the denial of a prisoner's rights began as a relatively straightforward magazine story. But as he dug deeper, his project became a morass of deceptions and ethical dilemmas worthy of Dostoyevsky.

by Yvonne Abraham

Part 6

Kimberlin's lawyer Donald V. Morano, a man who does not look upon his client with blind admiration, says Citizen K is a fairly balanced book, and that Singer leaves readers to make up their own minds about Kimberlin. "Brett was naive in thinking that someone who starts digging is only going to report what Brett tells him," Morano says . But he also faults Singer for being overly personal about Kimberlin, referring to passages where Singer calls him a narcissist, and "a short fellow who needed to be looked up to."

"As Mark Singer becomes disillusioned about Brett, he strikes out at him, taking personal umbrage at things that have nothing to do with Mark," Morano says. "Mark took Brett's [deceit] as if he were a disappointed lover."

Singer, obviously, thinks differently. "It was not as if a score-settling was going on," he says. "The [1992] piece and the book and the excerpt were genuine attempts to find the truth. What the book proves is that the truth is knowable most of the time. I now believe I know the real truth about this man."

Singer makes a convincing case that the article and the book got at fundamental truths about the political process and Kimberlin, respectively. And his broader claim, that through perseverance we can learn the "real truth" about a subject -- traditionally journalism's highest goal -- is reassuring. But the fact that getting at the truth can take deception and four years of digging is not exactly comforting, particularly for those of us working on shorter deadlines.

Singer, for his part, is extremely reluctant to discuss Kimberlin's reaction to the New Yorker excerpt and the book. As much as he clearly, and perhaps rightly, believes that he was blameless in his dealings with Kimberlin, he is not comfortable revisiting the relationship. For two hours he has not-so-patiently played subject to my reporter, and his forbearance is at an end. We are both Janet Malcolm's charming young men now. Except right now we are not quite so charming.

Have you had any contact with Kimberlin since the excerpt was published?

"I haven't spoken to him."

Are you worried about Kimberlin's reaction?

"Well, I'll see when it happens, then I'll decide whether I should worry."

Has Kimberlin read the New Yorker excerpt?

"Yes."

Do you know what his reaction was?

"Yes."

What was it?

"His reaction was a negative one."

Will you explain that?

"Ask more specific questions."

It goes on like this for a few more excruciating minutes, until I ask precisely the correct specific question. At last, Singer tells me Kimberlin called him after the fact-checker confronted him with the piece of evidence that implicated him in the Scyphers murder. Kimberlin asked what Tina Brown thought of the article, "because he always wants to know what important people think about him." And he told Singer the information implicating him in Julia Scyphers's murder was "bullshit." A copy of the article was sent to him.

Was Kimberlin angry when he read the article?

"I'd say angry is probably a fair word."

Did he call you?

"He called Knopf and asked for a galley of the book."

And he was angry during that call?

"You can call Knopf."

Will they tell me?

"You can call them and find out. Are we only on page one of your questions?"

Yvonne Abraham can be reached at yabraham[a]phx.com.