Sixteen death scenes.
The first recognizable victim was the fourth we viewed.
Richard Dada, young, handsome, talking animatedly about his career plans, unaware of what lay ahead. Cut to the next scene: Richard’s head yanked back by the hair, exposed for the throat slash. The body bisected with a band saw. The dark-sleeved arms of the murderer visible, but no face. The camera was stationary, making it possible for one person to murder and film. Other tapes featured a roving lens that necessitated two killers. The log on the tape said Dada had been killed at one A.M.
Ellroy Bearty’s tape featured two segments, an initial shot of the homeless man sucking a bottle near the train tracks, then, four months later, Beatty prone and unconscious on those same train tracks, followed by a long shot of an approaching express. Poor technique; the camera jumped around and the moment of impact was just a blur. Next came brother Leroy, also in two installments. Smiling drunkenly as he talked about wanting to be a blues singer. Four months later, a similar smile, cut short as a black hole snapped onto his forehead like a decal and he collapsed.
Both brothers killed the same night. Ellroy first, his death mandated by the train schedule. Leroy’s turn two hours later. Midway through the stack was Claire Argent’s final day on earth: like the others, she’d been unprepared. Crimmins had filmed her in front of a bare white wall. Whether it was her own living room couldn’t be determined. She talked about psychology, about wanting to learn more about madness, made allusions to the project she and the cameraman would be starting soon, then said, “Oh, sorry, I’m supposed to forget you’re there, right?” No answer from the cameraman.
Claire talked more about the origins of madness. About not jumping to conclusions, because even psychotics had something to tell us. Then she smoothed an eyebrow-primping for the camera-and smiled some more. Five seconds of shy smile before she was smothered by a pillow. Long shot of her motionless body. Close-up on the straight razor… Twelve other home movies, unlabeled. Seven females: five teenage girls with the haunted look of street kids, two attractive blond women in their thirties. Five males: a painfully thin goateed boy around sixteen or seventeen and four men, one Asian, one black, two Hispanic.
Folded into an empty box were two sheets of paper.
Title page: The Monster’s Chosen. He Canot Be Stopped.
Second page: Cast
We worked on that for a long time.
The “fag actor” was most likely Dada, the “old-maid pro-fesor,” Claire. Other designations included “the wino twins (Monster finds a perfect match)” and three headings- “pompos businessman,” “coke whore,” and “girl shopping”- for which no conforming tape could be found. “Greaser farm-chick” matched Suzy Galvez, “the sheriff’s hotblooded wife” Marvelle Haas. The “teenage pimp” could’ve been the goateed boy stabbed in the chest, then dismembered. But he fit “street punk,” so my guess was Christopher Soames. Never had his audition, lucky lad.
At the bottom of the page: “more?????? definitly. how many????????????”
The job of identifying the unnamed victims was assigned to a six-detective task force from LAPD and the Sheriff’s Department. After two months, three of the teenage girls had been matched with runaways on various missing persons rosters; all the girls, it was believed, had been living on the streets of Hollywood. Hedy Haupt would’ve understood that scene. Two girls and the goateed boy remained nameless, as did the younger of the blond women, probably the “stripper,” and the black man (the
“nigger stud”). “Greaser 1” and “greaser 2” turned out to be Hernando Alas and
Sabino Real, cousins from El Salvador seeking work as laborers by standing outside a paint store in Eagle Rock. Contractors seeking cheap labor cruised the store daily.
No one remembered who’d picked up Alas and Real, but family members living in the
Union District finally stepped forward to make the identification.
A Korean-American salesman named Everett Kim, bludgeoned with a baseball bat-the
“chink”-was traced to the Glendale-based skydiving club where Derrick Crimmins and
Hedy had first met. The ex-wife of another member, a dental hygienist from Burbank, turned out to be Allison Wisnowski. “The nurse.”