 The short-arm of the law
I watched director Roman Polanski's noir masterpiece, Chinatown (1974), on the cable the other night, and was again thrilled by the great soundtrack he cooked for it. That's what L.A. always sounded like to me at night. Long periods of silence, punctuated by sudden, harsh, and loud noises. From the ringing crack of the sluce gates opening up in the hills, to the clip-clop of the swayback horse a it picks it's way among the rocks in the riverbed. A great flick by any measure, this one continues to surprise the viewer with it's true depth of feeling and art.
Too bad about that incident in the hottub with the shanghaied seriously under-aged female. Artist/pervert is an old formula and not very attractive to the taxpayers, that's why Roman won't be in town receiving a Thalberg anytime soon. Though some of the other degenerate show people did mention him at the Oscars a while back. Bon nuit.
The backlots of unsolved crimes in the Hollywood annals probably begin with Randolph Hearst himself shooting Harper Ince, someone he thought was Charlie Chaplin and getting away with it. Just like OJ, Fatty Arbuckle, or Gibby Gibson. Something always goes horribly wrong when the stars come out. At night. In Hollywood, the dream factory, where even dream murders can come true. And this one did, too.
While Elizabeth Short was never the star-struck Hollywood wanna-be she is described as in the true crime press, her killer was. And L.A. was his marked territory. His royal game preserve, an happy hunting ground, but Hollywood didn't know him at all. They all knew Maurice Clement, and he's wasn't even a real person all the time. Just the name the killer chose for one of his weaker identities. Sorry Mary is what he calls it when she is being weak and feminine, not strong like Ed the bed Burns, or taut serre-fine like French film legend Clement-Maurice.
She was also not the great railroad surveyor L.M. Clement who brought the Southern Pacific line down from San Francisco in back 1876. Of all of the people Hollywood should know, but doesn't, he feels he should be the most famous person in a Movieoland, too. He will be, once the truth is known. And then they will all see what a huge thing he did. How beautifully he murdered her and the mysteriousness of clues he left to baffle and and hopefully enlighten the police and the public owing to the killer's brilliant over-all conception and the flawless execution of what remains his perfect crime.
8:38:32 AM 
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