A white youth accosts an 18-year-old white female. The victim is sitting in her car. The driver’s-side door is open.
The suspect appears at the door. He grabs the wheel and tells the victim to move over. The victim says no. The suspect restates his demand. The victim screams. The suspect puts one hand on her mouth and sticks one hand down the front of her bra. The victim digs in and pushes her weight against him. The suspect flees on foot.
4/25/73:
The kid is arrested and charged with the 4/23 assault. He turned 18 on 4/12. He’s a culpable adult now.
Four prior victims ID him. He’s held at the Temple City Sheriff’s Station. A station detective contacts Koury and Meyers. They interview the kid about the Scales job.
The kid says he doesn’t recall the rape and attempt rapes. He says he suffers blackouts. He snapped out of blackouts twice and found himself messing with women. He has problems with women. He’s been seeing a shrink since his first bust on 3/14. He could have done things in blackouts.
The kid consents to a polygraph test. Sergeant Ben Lubon administers it.
The kid denies killing BettyJean Scales. He denies the rape and attempt rapes that the victims made him for. He says he was never at Durfee Drugs. Sergeant Lubon calls the test “inconclusive.”
6/12/73:
Koury and Meyers reinterview the kid. He denies killing Betty Jean Scales. He says he was never at Durfee Drugs. Koury and Meyers press on the Scales job. The kid invokes his right to silence.
The kid remained in custody. He was convicted for his 3/14 attempt rape. His sentence: an open-ended stretch of Youth Authority time.
The Scales file was marked UNSOLVED. It was the second unsolved homicide in El Monte history. It followed another body dump by fifteen-plus years.
The victim was named Geneva Hilliker Ellroy. She was my mother.
2
It was 6/22/58. The killer dumped my mother on a road next to Arroyo High School. He may have killed her there. He may have killed her at another location. It went down early Sunday morning. The road was a local tryst spot. It met established standards for short-term concealment. Street access was good. Shrubs cut down the street view.
The killer raped her or had consensual sex with her. He strangled her with a cotton cord and her right nylon stocking. He dumped her in an ivy patch. She was fully clothed and disheveled.
SHERIFF’S HOMICIDE FILE #Z-483-362 (EL MONTE PD ASSISTING)
The cops traced her Saturday night.
She left the house at 8:oo P.M. She was alone. She drove to the Five Points strip in El Monte. She checked out Mama Mia’s Pizza–“like she was looking for someone.” She was seen at the Manger Bar. She was alone.
10:30 P.M. Saturday, 6/2 1/58:
My mother and a swarthy white man dine at Stan’s Drive-In. They sit in his car–a ’55 or ’56 Olds.
11:15 P.M., 6/21/58:
My mother and the Swarthy Man hit the Desert Inn–a nightclub that caters to Okies and middle-aged drunks. A blonde woman walks in with them. The three drink, dance, and talk. They leave at midnight.
2:30A.M. Sunday, 6/22/58:
My mother and the Swarthy Man hit Stan’s Drive-In again. They’re alone. They sit in his car. The Swarthy Man has coffee. My mother has a late snack.
10:10A.M., 6/22/58:
Pedestrians spot my mother’s body.
It’s tight and local.
The house is 1.5 miles from Five Points. The pizza joint and bar are just south. Stan’s Drive-In sits at the hub. The Desert Inn is seven blocks west. The dump site is 2.8 miles northwest.
My parents were divorced. I spent that weekend with my father. I didn’t see my mother walk out. I didn’t panic at her absence or fear that she’d never return. I was 10 years old. I didn’t know the term “body dump.” I did not endure a rain-prolonged deathwatch or view my mother’s decomposed remains.
I was a cold little kid. I hated and lusted for my mother and went at her through postmortem surrogates. I buried her in haste and burned flames for other murdered women. My mother’s death corrupted and emboldened my imagination. It liberated and constrained me concurrently. It mandated my mental curriculum. I majored in crime and minored in vivisected women. I grew up and wrote novels about the male world that sanctioned their deaths.