Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
FRIDAY OCTOBER 1
10:00 AM
Lieutenant Harry Lloyd stood over the body. The girl lay face down in the sandy, scrubby dirt atop a Griffith Park hill mere yards from the D in the HOLLYWOOD sign. She had a long waist, a thin physique, and buttermilk white skin that stood in contrast to her ebony hair. “Hair as black as the inside of a cow in an unlit barn on the moonless midnight of a winter equinox,” as his Grandfather used to say. His Grandfather had been a long winded dairy farmer in the valley.
The long dark locks hung in a loose pageboy on either side of her head. Her buttocks were well rounded and stood proud of her hips. It was easy to tell. She was naked. Not nude. Naked. Her legs were splayed well apart exposing any mystery she may have had left.
Her body had been covered in an old tan army surplus woolen blanket probably to camouflage it from the occasional private aircraft that crossed the area. Hikers near the HOLLYWOOD sign in Griffith Park had found her. They uncovered her. What they found made a lasting impression on them. They had started to roll her over before they discovered she had no face. Her eyeballs peering out from her bloody skull was all they saw before they stopped and called the cops.
Harry stared at the scene, trying to soak in every detail. Coroner’s assistant Richard Meade was bending over the corpse and doing a detailed examination. He had a thermometer up her butt.
“What can you tell me, Dick?” Harry asked.
“Not a lot. We’re lucky these two lovers had an open-air rendezvous in mind or we’d be a lot worse off. I think she’s been dead more than 24 hours. It was cold last night, and at this altitude …? I’d say the body was dumped here likely around midnight give or take a couple of hours. No animal intrusions. No blood. She wasn’t killed here. All I can say for sure? Caucasian female, mid to late twenties. Good physical condition. The rest you’ll have to wait for after we get her back.”
“Lab guys get all the pictures?” Harry knew they had. He was just trying to disengage from the conversation.
“I don’t know. Not my department. We’ll get a full set back at the lab. One thing, first time I’ve seen this in a long time.” Meade turned over the hand. All the flesh from the finger-tip pads had been cut away leaving only the exposed bone. The polished nail was still in place and intact.
“I’ll go check with the lab guys. Have Jimmy call me when he’s got something. Okay?” Coroner James Crane was nearing the end of his career. He would be retiring soon. Harry hated to see him go. He was a straight shooter. He gave you facts. No political crap. Just the plain, simple truth as he saw it. And Crane could see very well. Meade would be a poor substitute.
“You got it, Lieutenant.” Meade went about preparing the body for transport.
Harry walked back to the patrol officer who had responded to the call. He was being interviewed by Harry’s new partner. Jesse Kimball had been the first ever Negro detective to serve in LAPD. This was his grandson, Jesse Kimball III, a solid six feet of hard athlete. He had played ball in college and won awards for his performance. He had a university degree which put him one up on Harry. Although, what good a Psychology degree was going to do him out here in the field … Harry was still pondering that one.
“You got it all?” Harry asked.
“Yes sir.” Jesse responded. The patrolman nodded when Harry gave him a questioning stare. Harry had seen all too often when white patrolmen resented reporting to a black detective and held back information. Harry walked away and motioned for Kimball to join him. “What did the coroner’s assistant say?” Jesse asked.
“He said she was killed somewhere else. No blood.”
Kimball nodded his understanding. “Do you think it could be the same guy as the Dahlia case? It’s been seven years. Maybe he’s emerged from hibernation.”
“No. It’s not him.”
“How do you know? The case is still open, according to the Chief. Same black hair and pasty white skin as the victim there. Maybe it’s his type.”
“It may be open, but we know who that was. He’s out of the country now.” Harry had not been a part of the investigation, but he worked in the same squad room with the pool of detectives that did work the case. It would have been too dangerous for certain careers had that killer to be named. “What did you get from the patrolman?”
Jesse opened his note pad and began to check off the facts. “Young couple met up here to go for a hike. Married, but not to each other. They’re hoping to keep their names out of it. Went off trail to ‘Make love in the opening light of dawn.’”
“Romantic.” Harry offered sarcastically.
“Yeah. That’s what they thought too. Lots of hikers up here in the morning. That’s why they went off trail. But their plans to lay naked in the sun were interrupted by discovering the blanket. I think they were probably going to use it to lie down on. But, it was already in use.
“The body shocked the woman well enough. But the guy wanted to play hero. He tried to turn her over. Then he saw her face, or lack thereof. He puked his guts out. They went down to the observatory together, used the pay phone to call the station.”
“All right. You got their names? Addresses? Phone numbers?” Jesse nodded. “Tell them we’ll try to keep their names out of the story but make certain they know that we will call if we need anything. And they’d better damn well be accommodating.”
“Yes sir. Anything else?”
“Call dispatch and ask if any suspicious crime scenes have been reported. Especially one with blood. A lot of blood.”
Jesse nodded and said, “Can do” before wheeling and putting his pad in his inside jacket pocket. Then he turned back. “Are you certain it’s not the same killer as the Dahlia?”
“May be someone trying to copy the killer, but … yeah, I’m sure.”
“Can you tell me how you’re sure?”
“Maybe someday. In the meantime, …” Harry nodded down the trail, indicating that Kimball should be about his business. Kimball turned and did as suggested.
Harry considered the benefits of the military training his young partner had received. Harry hadn’t been required to serve because he was in a necessary public service position as a detective. He sometimes regretted taking that deferment.
Kimball had been a young naval recruit. He lied about his age and enlisted in his fifteenth year. He trained at San Diego. The war was winding down and he got assigned to the Shore Patrol where he soon made a name for himself. Very few white SP’s wanted to go to the “Dark Spots” when black sailors were having a pier six brawl to let off some steam. Those that did had a bad tendency to go overboard.
Kimball got out in ’46. He went to UCLA on the GI Bill and played football. He wasn’t a teammate of Jackie Robinson, but Robinson was his inspiration. He tried to match his performance.
Sportswriters mostly agreed that he was the best negro athlete UCLA had enjoyed since Robinson and Woody Strode made up their winning backfield years before. Robinson was getting a lot of press now. He had long since broken the color barrier in baseball. He was now leading the Dodgers to yet another pennant victory.
Kimball’s grandfather had been the one who encouraged his grandson to follow the path to law enforcement. Jesse joined LAPD after his graduation in 1950. He made detective in the spring of ’54. He’d been on the job with Harry for three months now.
Harry watched Kimball as his partner marched back to the squad car. It had been a long time since he had thought about the Black Dahlia case. It wasn’t a pleasant thought process. Not when you knew about the case from the inside. It was a slap in the face to every honest, well intentioned cop. It was such blatant corruption. It disgusted Harry whenever he thought of it. It often made him wonder why he didn’t just quit and go into business with Adam. If Adam would have him.
Harry raised his eyes and looked out over the LA Basin. This was his responsibility now. He had the job, the rank and the responsibility. He suddenly wished he’d paid more attention to and asked more questions of Lieutenant Adam Freeman when he’d been the junior partner. Not that anyone would complain about his job performance in the years since Freeman’s departure. He’d amassed a solid record. One to be envied.
The sun was rising with less impact than he’d have liked. It was nearly ten-thirty, but the bright orb had not yet warmed this hilltop. The reflections off the downtown buildings were mostly pointing away from his position. He could make out a sort of aura lighting the smog behind the City Hall building. To the west, the shadows were still long.
“Well, this is nice.But you need to get back to the grind, Lieutenant.” Harry said to himself.He’d tell Adam about this tomorrow when he and Laura went to the Saturday cookout.Maybe his old boss could offer some sound advice and options.
