Month: December 2005

Also on the Noir L.A. episode: Alan Silver, author of LA Noir; Rob Thomas, creator of “Veronica Mars”; Paula Woods, author of Strange Bedfellows; and LAPD “cold case” detective Dave Lampkin. Plus LA Weekly music editor (and bubblegum fiend) Kate Sullivan reviews the year’s best local music

The show will also be available as a podcast.

When Mrs. Evelyn Schott got off the street car near her home at 3224 Garden Ave., she stepped unknowingly into a trap. For lurking one block from home’s safety was a man with evil intent. He sprung upon Evelyn from behind a bush and commenced beating her head. She screamed, neighbors poured onto their lawns, and her assailant jumped into a car and split. Evelyn was patched up at Pasadena Ave. Emergency Hospital, and won’t, we wager, be walking home alone after dark again anytime soon.

Mrs. Esther D. Miller, 39, is a woman with an interesting hobby. She writes letters to her grocer, accusing him of padding her bill, and demanding cash in exchange for not calling the police.

Mrs. Miller, who lives at 1416 W. 53rd Street, stands accused of writing such a letter to grocery owner I. Rodman, in business at 54th Street and Normandie. She demanded $200, and extortion charges were filed.

Rodman’s wife told U.S. Commissioner David B. Head that this was not the first extortion demand from Mrs. Miller. Last time, Mrs. Rodman had personally paid out $300, reasoning that “[her] husband has ulcers and [she] didn’t want to upset him.”

Bail was set at $1000.

What turns a brother against his own kin? For 20-year-old Harold Berry, who is on County relief to the tune of $128 monthly and resides at 14359 Erwin Street, it was brother Murrill, 27, suggesting that Harold’s bride Colleen was available to anyone who asked. The lady responded by tossing a knife, but since she threw like a girl, Murrill was able to duck. He knocked Colleen out, and Harold threw Murrill out.

Furious Harold steamed for a time, then grabbed his revolver and stalked off to find his brother, who was not, as he’d first guessed, passed out in his car. So he stormed several blocks to 14657 Calvert Street, where big brother maintained a lean-to. Without thinking, he later told police, he pumped three bullets into the sleeping man’s head.

As Colleen sobbed, Harold learned he’d have his formal murder charge on Wednesday morning.

Some criminals just want to be punished. Consider the case of Mrs. Betty Cole, 27-year-old cocktail waitress, raising her twins alone while her Army captain husband serves at the San Francisco Presidio. Police investigators picked Betty up when it became clear that she was the pyromaniac responsible for four small blazes at the Palms Wilshire Hotel, 626 S. Alverado, on September 14, one at 1272 S. Western on October 14, and an initial fire at 1326 Oak Street on November 7, 1946.

Realizing that they had a nutty dame on their hands, and that no one had as yet been injured, the investigators offered to waive the charges if Betty would agree to stop smoking and drinking. But when Betty called the station to ask her nice policeman friends to join her for a beer, they revived the prosecution. Betty was picked up in a cocktail lounge, and her bail is set at $2500.

Two baby cousins, each 14 months old, were playing together in the kitchen of the Joseph and Mary Diaz home at 3139 Alameda Street while the adults kibbitzed in the living room. Suddenly a child’s scream shattered the peace of the evening. The Diazes rushed into the kitchen to find their son Joseph Junior bleeding profusely from his head, as cousin Alice Vasquez sat spellbound, a pancake turner clutched in one fat fist. The families raced to Pasadena Emergency Hospital, where Joseph died a few hours later.