Tremors in the Blood: Murder, Obsession, and the Birth of the Lie Detector

by Amit Katwala

But perhaps Vollmer’s biggest innovation was his compassion. If you were picked up for drunkenness, you would be brought in to sleep it off and released the next morning without charge. Anyone could come in and ask for a night’s lodgings, and they’d be given two clean blankets, a shower, and a “good ham-and-egg breakfast” in the morning. “The chief was a humanitarian,” said one of his officers. Vollmer loved children, although he was sterile and couldn’t have any of his own. He kept a bowl of sweets on his desk for young visitors, who called him “Uncle Gus.” Despite grumbling from some of the older officers, he reserved room in the police department for a Children’s Room, which acted as an informal youth club that kept troubled kids off the streets. It was filled with toys, animals, and the sound of music—it was not uncommon to hear yodeling or the twang of a ukulele. “Show them that the law is their friend and not their enemy” was Vollmer’s frequent refrain. He abhorred physical violence on the part of his officers, and the beatings that were routinely handed out to noncompliant suspects during interrogations (although early in his career he did dole out the occasional spanking and once “mildly” whipped three youths for stealing). Vollmer’s overwhelming emphasis was on prevention, not punishment. “I’m not judging you on arrests,” he would tell new recruits. “I’m judging you on how many people you keep from doing something wrong.”