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ahream Dispatches from the City of Angels I'm a mystery writer living in and writing about Los Angeles. You can catch my short story, "Running Venice," in the new anthology LAndmarked for Murder. Look for it in bookstores and on Amazon.com now. In the meantime, feel free to poke around. Over at my website you can find even more blog entries than I could fit here, as well as a few other ramblings. Enjoy and come back often. |
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Read/Post Comments (1) Most Recent Twitters: A 3-foot long alligator was found walking down the middle of the street in Venice Beach this morning. I love L.A. In case you were wondering, it is very difficult to get a hummingbird out of your house. They are irrational and prone to hysterics. L.A. Finds: The Nickel Diner on Main between 5th and 6th is a made-to-look-old, throwback of a place that melds into the old downtown and is, at the same time, part of the renaissance. They serve their burgers medium, their soda in bottles and offer all they can to locals in need. Flickr Updates: The second Thursday of every month is the Downtown Art Walk. The galleries stay open late, the restaurants are packed, bands perform on the streets. God, I love L.A. What I'm Reading: Attack of the Unsinkable Rubber Ducks by Christopher Brookmyre What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami Want E-Mail Updates? Click here, type your e-mail address into the first field (for public entries) and receive an e-mail note each time a new blog post goes up. (Photo updates, Twitters and "L.A. Finds" features not included. Those you have to swing by and check yourself.) Absolutely, positively no spam. Promise. Other author blogs: Sue Ann Jaffarian Eric Stone Christa Faust Lipstick Chronicles |
2006-08-07 11:23 AM The burden of a serial killer’s son I have a weird job.
I spent my Sunday afternoon listening to former LAPD detective Steve Hodel make his case for why he believes his deceased father was a serial killer responsible for, among others, the Black Dahlia murder. We watched him flip through slides, a mix of family snapshots and crime scene photos of a bisected corpse. For those not familiar, the Black Dahlia murder is the most notorious unsolved case in Los Angeles history. Our Jack the Ripper. The victim, dubbed the Black Dahlia, was named Elizabeth Short. At 22, she was found in a vacant lot dead, nude, posed and cut in half at the waist. The body was washed clean of all blood, and the cut was so precise, it is believed the killer must’ve been a medical expert. Steve Hodel’s father, George, was, among other things, a twisted genius, a prominent citizen and a doctor. And the case Hodel makes for George’s guilt – while circumstantial, as all physical evidence has been lost by the LAPD – is very convincing. He compiled his evidence in a book, “Black Dalhia Avenger,” and it was this he was promoting Sunday at my writers’ association meeting. George Hodel traveled in well-placed company. His inner circle included the artist Man Ray and director John Huston. And the number of people who Steve Hodel suspects knew what his father had done is perhaps most shocking of all. And the argument, particularly given that Steve was a homicide detective of all things, that someone who knows – or thinks he knows – should stand up and say something is commendable. But I can’t help but imagine that were I in his shoes, I would’ve stayed silent. To stand up and publicly accuse one’s own deceased father of being a serial killer – I wouldn’t have the stomach for that. I think I would’ve told myself that, guilty or not, he was dead. No more harm could come at his hands. The notorious corruption of LAPD at the time of the murder is well known. And that nothing could bring back the victims. I would’ve told myself that my silence would hurt no one. I have no idea if that would be true. I think I like my fictional murders better. Read/Post Comments (1) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top |
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