The Dark Market Of 'Murderabilia'

Reichert is one of two sponsors of a bill that seeks to all but end the trade in true crime memorabilia. Introduced last fall with Sen. John Cornyn (R-Tex.), the Stop the Sale of Murderabilia to Protect the Dignity of Crime Victims Act would make it a three-to-10-year felony for inmates to mail almost anything for "interstate or foreign commerce" and allows for any profits to be seized. It assesses no penalty to private citizens who sell or buy such material. It would complement laws in five states that go further, by seizing any proceeds earned by inmates "or their designee," which would be dealers.

This is what is known as a feel-good bill. It's in committee and, even if enacted tomorrow, seems highly unlikely to end the trade. It's just so easy to evade, as we shall see.

Larry Traylor, spokesman for the Virginia Department of Corrections, says he was aware of Malvo's material being sold, but since it didn't constitute running a business, or profit directly from his sniper days (such as selling a book about it), there wasn't much the state could do.

"We're very focused on what comes into the institution -- we open all of that -- but not so much on what goes out," he says.

Let's go to a famous name in the field for insight. Let's talk to the man once known as the ".44 Caliber Killer," or "The Son of Sam." Let's talk to Berkowitz.

He's now an inmate at Sullivan Correctional Facility in New York. While still at large, back in the mid-1970s, he wrote a very famous letter to the very famous Jimmy Breslin, then a columnist at the New York Daily News. It began: "Hello from the gutters of N.YC., which are filled with dog manure, vomit, stale wine, urine and blood."

After his arrest, there was talk of his estate collecting a six-figure book deal, which led to the creation of "Son of Sam" laws that prevent criminals from collecting money from big-ticket sources like books and films. Many were struck down as unconstitutional, but many are still on the books in some form.

"The irony is that I have never tried to profit from my crimes," Berkowitz wrote in response to an inquiry about crime memorabilia. He says the confusion about the book deal was caused by lawyers handling his estate, which, he said, he did not have access to, and has never collected from.

He is highly sought after by collectors, but does not participate in the trade. He won't even sign his name to most things -- to prevent them from being resold. He works with Andy Kahan, the victims'-rights advocate in the Houston mayor's office who's led the national effort to stamp out the murderabilia trade.

"I have tremendous sorrow and remorse for the crimes I committed," Berkowitz wrote. "I've brought so much pain to people as well as to my own family and to myself." Murderabilia, he says, "is not illegal. But I'm sure it causes my victims pain when something makes the news. It certainly bothers me."

And here's the rub: The Son of Sam laws (Berkowitz says he "hates that evil moniker" but supports the laws' purposes) primarily target high-end projects like books and movies. The loophole is nickel-and-dime profits from small handicrafts, like drawings and poems, that killers put together after they have been incarcerated.

There have been high-profile campaigns to stamp out this kind of thing before. Kahan went on something like a crusade to persuade eBay to stop selling the stuff a few years ago. He won -- and then the trade just moved to other venues.