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Taylorology Issue 10
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* T A Y L O R O L O G Y *
* A Continuing Exploration of the Life and Death of William Desmond Taylor *
* *
* Issue 10 -- October 1993 Editor: Bruce Long bruce@asu.edu *
* All reprinted material is in the public domain *
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CONTENTS OF THIS ISSUE:
25 Flashes of Mabel Normand
"The Humor of a Hollywood Murder" Part 7:
The Kidnaping of Henry Peavey; Odds & Ends;
Tall Tales #3: The Atlantic City Confession
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What is TAYLOROLOGY?
TAYLOROLOGY is a newsletter focusing on the life and death of William Desmond
Taylor, a top film Paramount film director in early Hollywood who was shot to
death on February 1, 1922. His unsolved murder was one of Hollywood's major
scandals. This newsletter will deal with: (a) The facts of Taylor's life;
(b) The facts and rumors of Taylor's murder; (c) The impact of the Taylor
murder on Hollywood and the nation. Primary emphasis will be given toward
reprinting, referencing and analyzing source material, and sifting it for
accuracy.
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Mabel Normand was one of the central personalities in the Taylor case. She
was involved in a romantic relationship with him and was the last person to
see him alive (except for the killer) prior to his murder. The following
press items provide some insight into her unique and colorful personality,
from her childhood through her years as "Queen of Comedy", and the Taylor and
Dines shootings.
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25 Flashes of Mabel Normand
November 5, 1921
Beverly Crane
MOVIE WEEKLY
...We steered the conversation a few years back to Mabel's tomboyhood
and got her to reminiscing..."Another time I remember being in disgrace was
when I accidentally dropped a quarter in a contribution box at church,
instead of the nickel I had intended. You can imagine my consternation! I was
in a very strict Catholic school, where it was hard to get money. When I
perceived my mistake, I was frantic, but I didn't let it go by, oh no! I
began rummaging wildly in the contribution box. The man who held the box was
scandalized. Dollar bills flew, nickels and dimes spilled out while I rooted
about like a little dog looking for the bone he had buried--
"My eye!" giggled Mabel reminescently, "didn't I get it good for that!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
November 24, 1918
Mabel Normand
NEW YORK TELEGRAPH
...I went over to the Biograph studio [in 1910]. Griffith put me to work
at once. They gave me a pair of tights and a page's costume which terrified
me almost out of my wits. I had never worn tights before and it seemed to me
that everybody around the place had nothing to do but stare at my legs. What
was more, they kept me there until 12:30 and I didn't get home to Staten
Island until nearly 2. So I did not go back the next day and they were
furious. I met Mack Sennett on the street a few days later and he said; "That
was a terrible thing you did to Griffith, not going back." I didn't
understand that I was to be in another scene or what it meant.
But eventually Griffith sent for me and I worked regularly for the
Biograph.
...When Mack Sennett first came to me [in 1912] and said: "How would you
like to make $100 a week?" I said, "Stop making fun of me--don't be
ridiculous." And when he took me to Kessell and Baumann and they said they
liked my looks, I asked if they intended to pay me $100 a week and they said,
"Well, call it $125."
You may believe me or not, but when I got that contract in my hands I
walked in a daze from Union Square to Times Square and back. Every five
blocks I would read it again. I couldn't believe it. I took it to Alice Joyce
in the Park Avenue Hotel and showed it to her. We both decided that it meant
$25 a week and that the figure 1 was a joke.
I worked at the Keystone with Mack Sennett for several years. Charlie
Chaplin joined the company after a while. In fact, I was responsible for his
coming into pictures. I saw him one night at Hammerstein's Victoria and went
straight out and telegraphed Sennett to get him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
November 19, 1921
Maurice Costello
MOVIE WEEKLY
Mabel Normand came to play bits for Vitagraph from the old Biograph
company, as did Lottie Pickford. Mabel, Lottie, and Lillian Walker were three
tomboy pals who were always up to some sort of mischief. When you wanted them
for a scene you would be sure to find them up a cherry tree in a nearby
orchard throwing twigs at each other and cutting up for all their worth.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
May 14, 1921
Flora Finch
MOVIE WEEKLY
Those early days at the Vitagraph were indeed happy ones. Mabel Normand
came just about the time I did. She was a lovable youngster, always up to
mischief, the perpetrator of more than one practical joke that sent everyone
into paroxysms of laughter. Mabel and Lillian Walker were the Damon and
Pythias of comedy. One a brunette; the other a blonde. They always considered
that they scored an ace when one made the other laugh at an inauspicious
moment.
I remember that one day Lillian was playing in a serious scene. The
director rehearsed it several times. Then, everything set, he ordered the
camera to grind. For some unknown reason, Lillian turned her head. There was
a squeak; she doubled up with mirth, and simply shrieked. The director raving
furiously at having a perfectly good scene spoiled, turned around, but didn't
see anything. Of course he didn't. The mischief maker had disappeared. It had
been Mabel, dressed in a clown costume, face white-washed, nose black, lips
reddened to extend from ear to ear, eyes penciled to slant upwards. There she
had stood, grimacing and prancing about. Lillian turned around, saw this
unexpected sight, and...pandemonium!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
May 20, 1916
MOTOGRAPHY
Miss Normand couldn't tell which comedy she thought most humorous on the
screen, but she was not for a moment in doubt about the "most fun she ever
had in pictures."
"Working with Raymond Hitchcock in 'My Valet' made up for all the
hardships. I think I laughed straight through the 'water stuff.' Fred Mace
was the villain. He took me out to a rock in the sea and tied me there. But
he was so afraid of the water that he was in terror the whole time, I
believe. And at last the current was so strong it swept him away, and we all
had to turn in and rescue the frightened 'villyan.'"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
April 1916
Randolph Bartlett
PHOTOPLAY
"Why have you never been killed," I asked her, with the utmost of
sincerity.
"Why haven't I? Why--I have. I guess you don't read the Los Angeles
newspapers."
"But it wasn't permanent."
"That didn't make it any better while it lasted," the fair Mabel
insisted.
"How did it happen?"
"Roscoe [Fatty Arbuckle] sat on my head by mistake. I was unconscious
for twelve days, and laid up for three months. Don't talk to me about being
killed--I've been through it," and Mabel's eyes took upon themselves that
dreamy, distant gaze you read about. I think she was offering up a little
prayer of thanks for being alive, as I know I always should, if Roscoe
Arbuckle sat on my head and I lived to talk about it.
"But that was your only serious death in all your adventures, thus far?"
"Yes, but I just live along from day to day. I never make any plans.
Nobody in the world lives up to the literal instruction, 'Take no thought for
the morrow,' like I do. What's the use of making plans to go places or marry
people, when like as not you will have to write a note saying, 'Excuse me. I
did want to become your blushing bride today, but it's no go. I was killed
yesterday doing a high dive into a tank of brickbats.'"
"Then you're always afraid you are going to be killed, when you have a
rough stunt to handle?"
"Afraid?" and Mabel was daintily angry. "Who said anything about being
afraid? I'm usually in too big a hurry to be scared, but I just absolutely
know I am going to be killed. When I come through alive I am so surprised
that I feel quite sure it isn't myself at all, and want to be introduced to
the woman that's hanging around in my clothes."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
August 1918
Randolph Bartlett
PHOTOPLAY
When she was making farce comedies with Roscoe Arbuckle, Miss Normand
became known among the players as the most fearless girl in pictures, when
there were dangerous stunts to be performed. Nobody ever "doubled" for her.
With all her slenderness and petit grace, she had the will power to go
through with anything she attempted. She couldn't bear to be called a
quitter. A typical incident occurred just when she recovered from a long
illness that kept her away from work all summer, two years ago.
Just before she was laid up, she had been working on the comedy "Fatty
and Mabel Adrift," and it had to remain unfinished until her recovery. At
last she felt able to go back to the studio, and started out in her car. As
she neared Edendale her nerve began to ooze away.
"I can't do it--I can't," she groaned, and ordered the chauffeur to turn
back.
Before she had driven back many blocks, she began to call herself a
coward.
"You've got to do it," she kept repeating to herself. "You've got to do
it."
So the chauffeur was ordered to turn again toward the studio. Three
times she ordered him to drive back home, and as many times her Irish blood
rose at the thought of submitting to her fear, until at last she fairly
whipped herself to her dressing room--and finished the picture.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 13, 1916
NEW YORK TELEGRAPH
The Morning Telegraph representative then asked Miss Normand if she
thought it was hard for a pretty woman to be a success in film comedy.
"Yes," she answered. "Most pretty girls who go into comedy work are
content to be merely pretty. But the great difficulty is to put character
into acting without either distorting your face or using comedy make up.
Anyone who photographs well can walk on a scene and flirt with the comedian,
which is all that most good looking girls are required to do in comedies. It
takes very little ability on their part for all they have to do is follow
direction. (And here Miss Normand gave an imitation of a comedy coquette
flirting according to the commands of her director.) But to make a farce
heroine more than a mere doll, you must think out the situation yourself and
above all you must pay great attention to every little detail in a scene. The
little bits of business that seem insignificant are what make good comedy."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
December 1922
Norbert Lusk
PICTURE-PLAY
...Many persons know Mabel Normand. She welcomes acquaintances as easily
as she curves her cupid's bow with a lipstick; but few can say they truly
know her. This gives me a proper opening to say that I do. That is, my
knowledge is enough to make me fond. It is no new happiness.
Five years ago [in 1917], when she was made a Goldwyn star, the prospect
of meeting mellifuous Mabel was quite enough to give me tremors of
anticipation, even though I was no younger than I ought to have been. Not
only was she on the crest of the glory that was Goldwyn, but her name
sparkled with reminiscent associations. Years before, when she was a mere
anonymity--her eloquent eyes and sure sense of fun had won my interest in
Biograph and Vitagraph comedies, the latter with John Bunny. As a tantalizing
typist in a one-reel comedy I remembered her sidelong glances and saucy
scorn. I knew meeting Mabel Normand would not be dull routine. It wasn't by a
long shot dull.
"I haven't time. I'm too busy. Later, maybe." She flung out this hope
when accosted, red-cloaked, in the studio corridor, where I had been sent to
worm from her information to be used in advertising her pictures. Then she
passed on, leaving me to make the best of her retreat, to exclaim at her
diminuitiveness and startling big eyes. But the tide of defeat turned in the
studio restaurant where, fortunately, I had sought reviving tea. She came in
with Mae Marsh and danced toward me, an old friend.
Then began an "interview" which she made absurdly comic when led on by
my puerile queries.
Q. "What do you like best to do?"
A. "Pinch babies and twist their legs. (Don't dare publish this. People
wouldn't understand.)"
Q. "What do you most enjoy?"
A. "Dark windy days when trees break and houses blow down."
Q. "Favorite flower?"
A. "Weeds--if I buy them myself. Orchids otherwise. (But I'll take
anything.)"
Q. "Ideal man?"
A. "A brutal Irishman who chews tobacco and lets the world know it. (Say
a Gibson man. It's more refined.)"
Q. Favorite food?"
A. "Chocolate cake, iced and inch high. (Fat or no fat, I love it)"
This went on, broken by Mabel's effervescing giggles. On November tenth
Mabel was given such a birthday cake as she hungered for and thanked me
fervidly, rapturously, like a child. She said she'd rather have had it than a
pint of pearls. Be that as it may, the chocolate cake made us friends, though
when she reads this she'll call it slandering her finer feelings. She'll
protest the cake had nothing to do with it. She's a great kidder.
It is this habit that stands in the way of understanding her. She jests
at all times. When she becomes serious she finds, to her discomfiture, that
she is still laughed at. For her attempts at gravity are likely to be
mirthful to others. I have never met any one more incorrigibly prankish, nor
more high-spirited and volatile. Naturally the sympathies of such a person
are easily roused and, when one is as generous as Mabel, lavishly expressed.
She spends money with the superb gesture of a runaway youngster playing
hookey from school...
Experienced actress that she is, Mabel is more than all heart. Her grasp
and understanding of her work are too strong and sure to be the promptings of
anything but her brain. Left to herself her choice of a story would be
reasonably certain to please her public equally as her bright imagination is
in devising "business." She has virtually grown up with the movies and brings
to her work the capability, deft, expert, of a veteran artist. After a single
reading of an involved scenario I have seen her run over the entire story,
embellishing here and there an incident that seemed to need more of the
comic, or advising her laughing director how to strengthen the whole. Then
whirling round to quip a passer-by or indulge in burlesque mimicry of a star
whose back was turned.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
April 28, 1918
NEW YORK TELEGRAPH
The appearances of screen stars in the interests of the Liberty Loan
drive are becoming more frequent as the need for patriotic response grows
greater, but rarely has an idol of the cinema faced an audience under more
exciting circumstances than marked the visit of Mabel Normand to the Harlem
Grand Theatre last Sunday night.
The house was filled. Manager Arthur Hirsch estimated the attendance to
be 4,000. John Case, representing the Forty-third District of the Liberty
Loan Committee, announced that Mabel Normand, star in Goldwyn pictures, had
consented to appear.
Then Mr. Case delivered his appeal and Miss Normand was the first to
answer, subscribing for a $5,000 bond. Her reward for this was cheers, after
which a few subscriptions for smaller amounts came in. Eight-year-old Clarice
Boehm sang a patriotic song and a few more hundred dollars came from the
audience. But it was not until Miss Normand seized upon a better method of
coaxing money from the audience that expectations were realized:
"Ladies and gentlemen," she cried, "if it means anything at all to you,
I will give any one who subscribes for a bond of any amount--a kiss!"
Mr. Hirsch and his assistants found difficulty in averting a panic, the
noise of these eager to see and those eager to be kissed adding to the
pandemonium. Finally some semblance of order was restored and the resourceful
Miss Normand was held to her bargain. Never mind how many osculations were
the price she paid, nor how many cheers, cries and whistles punctuated each
kiss. The result is more important. Twelve thousand five hundred dollars was
the total, all the more notable when it is remembered that the amount, except
for the star's initial $5,000, represented the savings of people of modest
means.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
November 3, 1918
NEW YORK TELEGRAPH
The principal attraction at the Victory Workers' rally at the Manhattan
Opera House Saturday afternoon was Mabel Normand. Miss Normand's function at
the rally was principally decorative and sympathetic. The speech she made was
distinguished for its brevity. What she said was as follows:
"There is nothing more out of my line than making a speech. I don't
think I could ever have got up the courage to stand up here in this
terrifying place and talk right out in meeting if this cause didn't mean so
terribly much to me that I simply have to say what is next to my heart in
this matter.
"You see, it has been brought home to me in the most intimate and
personal way. I have a brother 'over there.' A brother who is more to me than
anybody else in the world. Strangely enough--for I am told it doesn't always
happen in even the best regulated families--we are very fond of each other.
He is the best brother I ever saw.
"Now, every letter I get from him is full of stories of the wonderful
work that is being done 'over there' by the Y.M.C.A., the Salvation Army and
the allied organizations--I don't like to call them charities, because the
service they are doing is so much higher than what we usually mean by
charity. My brother tells me he doesn't know what on earth they would do if
it weren't for all these organizations that are working heart and soul to
bring a little comfort and happiness to the boys.
"I am not asking you to do anything I wouldn't do myself. I am in this
drive with everything I've got of energy and money. Every one of you here has
a brother, a father, or a friend somewhere in France. It is for us he has
gone to the front. It is for us that he is going through what can be
described as nothing less than hell. And the least we can do is to go to the
front for them in this drive. To work like beavers to get this $170,000,000
not only subscribed but oversubscribed.
"This is our chance, the chance for all of us to show how much we love
and thank the lads who are over there for us, fighting for us, for your
freedom and mine, to show how much we appreciate their love and sacrifices.
"And remember, first, last and all the time, that every dollar we raise
is going to make somebody near and dear to us happy, to cut a little off his
loneliness, his discomforts and his hardships."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
November 3, 1918
NEW YORK TELEGRAPH
Mabel Normand delights in playing jokes on those who understand her. Her
mother, who lives on Staten Island, was the victim of the frolicsome Goldwyn
star's latest prank. Miss Normand's limousine drove up not far from the
Normand home the other day and out stepped a little old woman. In an unsteady
voice she asked to see the lady of the house, and on being received by Mabel
Normand's mother, quavered a request for old pies "for the war sufferers,
madam." A moment of embarrassed silence followed, whereupon Mabel dashed off
her wig and goggles and leaped into her mother's arms.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
July 1922
Herb Howe
PHOTOPLAY
The appointment for an interview was made for an afternoon. Mabel
declared she would be delighted to have "a good talk." Now it is a well-known
fact that Mabel Normand of all stars cares the least about publicity. She is
renowned for her ability to elude personal appearances, photographers,
interviewers and all that pertains to publicity. Yet such is the vanity of
man that he always makes an exception of himself. Besides, Mabel had seemed
so enthusiastically gracious. I arrived at Mabel's home at the hour
designated. Mabel had gone to the studio. I went to the studio. Mabel had
gone home. I went to her home. Mabel had not returned. I 'phoned the next
day. I 'phoned regularly every day for a week.
Mabel was always out. I seriously considered sending her a phonograph
record of "Home, Sweet Home." Finally I caught her on the wire. Before I had
a chance to demand an explanation, she cried--
"Why, where have you been? I've been trying and trying to get you--
'phoning and 'phoning--when are you coming to see me?
Quite overcome by this coup d'etat, I murmured weakly, "Any time."
"Tomorrow morning--can you make it early?" she cried eagerly.
I acquiesced with the feeling that Mabel would pace the floor,
sleepless, until I had arrived.
The next morning, after I had shaved with abnormal care, Mabel's
secretary 'phoned to say that Mabel had been called away on urgent matters.
Would I make the appointment for the studio the following day at eleven?
I was at the studio at eleven. I waited--and waited. For two hours I
waited. All the while I plotted what I would say as I stalked out, leaving
her an uninterviewed and stricken woman.
Finally I espied her through the window. She was humming to herself as
she leisurely strolled past the door of the publicity office in the direction
of her dressing room. The publicity man, in high confusion, rushed out to
tell her that I was waiting. She looked surprised, as though the visit were
totally unexpected. Then she turned and entered the room. At the threshold
she paused, regarding me silently with a wide-eyed innocence. Without taking
her eyes off my glowering countenance she moved solemnly toward me, then
stopped short--
"Kiss me!" she commanded.
As I showed signs of rallying, she swiftly changed the order to--
"Let's have some pie and coca-cola--I'm hungry, aren't you?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
July 1919
MOTION PICTURE
Of all the nutty news of the month, the prize goes to the announcement
that Mabel Normand has installed a peanut-roaster in her dressing room.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
September 12, 1919
LOS ANGELES TIMES
Mabel Normand, the vivacious Goldwyn star, is so full of brightness,
music and joy that she demands something to go with her temperament. Monday
the Schertzinger company went on location to Victorville, but no sooner had
they traveled two hours than Miss Normand asked "Paw" Schertzinger, her
director, where the band was.
"Band?" queried he, "what band do you mean, Maw?"
"Why, our own company band--where is our music for this trip?"
"We did not order a band--there is no dancing to be done."
"But I want a band," Miss Normand pouted prettily, "and you know it will
be nice to have at the little hotel, too--besides, we can always work
better."
The finish showed Director Schertzinger sending a telegram back to the
studio, and, although he had rather a doubtful expression on his jovial face,
he remarked, "Guess they'll send it, for she has always had one with her--
and, goodness knows, she needs something to go with her joyful spirit."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
November 18, 1919
Ray Frohman
LOS ANGELES HERALD
[from an interview with Mabel Normand]: "How old am I? Aw, I'm not a
hundred and five!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 15, 1922
Marie Prevost
OAKLAND POST-ENQUIRER
Nobody ever hears of the wonderful things Mabel Normand does. It is only
when she innocently gets into difficulties that people hear of her life in
any way. Mabel is the most generous creature in the world and she is always
doing things for other people. Why, I remember one day I was driving with her
through the poorer districts of Los Angeles. We passed a house where a
landlord was putting a mother and her five little children out of their home
because the rent was not paid.
You should have heard the things that Mabel told that man. And what do
you suppose she did? Dumped all the money she had in her bag into that
mother's lap and gave the owner a check for three months' rent.
That's the sort of a girl Mabel is, and I just wish everybody knew it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 1920
Delight Evans
PHOTOPLAY
"Happiness," said Mabel, "is simply a state of mind. I've never lost my
mind. When things go wrong with you--kid yourself."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 3, 1922
GARY POST-TRIBUNE
"Music," Mabel Normand says, "will do anything to me. If I come to the
studio feeling particularly upstage and patrician--I suppose there is such a
feeling as patrician?--the sound of a little tough music will set my heart to
jigging, my feel to wiggling and my pulses to jumping. In a trice, I am
lifted out of my ladylike languor into the person the music is talking about.
The minuet-ty type of melody has just the opposite effect. Right away it
slows me down, puts my best manners in place, and there I am--a perfect
lady."
Which is why, out of the album of what she calls her "mood music,"
pretty Mabel chose "When Francis Dances With Me" to be played while she made
"Molly-O," her new First National picture.
So they played "Francis" for three months while Mabel made "Molly." "I
never tired of it once," says Mabel. "It was the best director I ever had."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 25, 1922
MOVIE WEEKLY
I once asked a studio official if the company ever had trouble with
Mabel Normand. I had in mind her way of eluding engagements.
He was a hard-boiled individual, who bows to no star, and he looked me
straight in the eye.
"If anyone has trouble with Mabel Normand," said he, "he is to blame for
it. But I cannot imagine anyone finding fault with her."
While we were chatting, a gentleman called by appointment with the star.
He did certain work for her. She was unable to see him because she was having
her hair dressed. But she sent down a charming note of apology and enclosed a
signed check asking him to fill it out for whatever amount she owed him!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 5, 1922
Edward Doherty
NEW YORK NEWS
Mabel Normand likes to go to parties with the fellows of the film, and
many a party she has enlivened by her wish for "horseback rides."
"Mabel wants horsebackie rides," she'll say and climb up on the back of
a willing friend, to be ridden around the cafe, shouting, singing, laughing,
waving her arms. Great times when Mabel's around.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
November 27, 1921
Edwin Schallert
LOS ANGELES TIMES
Mabel said, "You see, I don't like Ritzy people. You know what I mean.
And as for people in general I either like them or I don't. If I do, I can
act like I like them. And if I don't--well, I can't bother about them--"
Mabel Normand was, I felt, defining herself. I was conscious also that
it would be highly unsatisfactory to be classed among the Ritzy people. The
nearest equivalent is "full of airs."
"I don't believe in all this bally-hoo stuff about art," she remarked.
"You know what I mean. This saying that I am thus and so, and when I was in
London I met so and so, and oh-er-ah my art, my art, my art!
"If a person is a real artist he doesn't care to talk about it. He's too
sensitive about it to let it really be known. Art makes people sensitive, the
greatest thoughts you feel you can only express through your art, and you
have less to say outside of your art all the time about your art."
A rather keen defining of the artist that, for a girl who loves to fling
slang words at an astonished hearer, and who is the life of a party through
her capricious gayety.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 20, 1922
Adela Rogers St. Johns
BOSTON ADVERTISER
[Mabel Normand visited William Desmond Taylor shortly before he was
murdered on February 1, 1922.] I talked with Mabel Normand last night over
the long-distance telephone between here and Los Angeles.
Her voice haunted me all night. She was crying. Her nurses didn't want
her to talk, but she wanted to ask me if I believed she had anything to do
with the Taylor murder, if anybody back here believed it?
And I told her what I believed, that no one connected her with it, no
one believed she had done anything that had any connection with the shooting.
And I told her that I loved her and for her to take care of herself. Mabel's
health is not good. Doctor's verdicts last year were discouraging--and no one
can make Mabel take proper care of herself.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 14, 1923
SAN FRANCISCO EXAMINER
(New York)--Feb. 13--"Ooh, but he's adorable. No. I won't tell who he
is, what or where he is. Ooh, but he's grand." and Mabel Normand, vivacious
screen comedienne hugged the two nearest reporters to whom she was announcing
that she was married. It happened when Miss Normand arrived today from
England on the White Star liner Baltic.
Mabel didn't intend to tell a soul about it. It was only when a
newspaperman noticed a diamond-studded, platinum wedding ring on her finger
that the secret was out.
"Oh, I should have kept my glove on," cried the blushing Mabel, "and
then I would not have let you fellows in on the secret."
When the reporters resumed their questioning she said:
"Ah, I was only kidding. Gosh, I'm so glad to be back home. I was only
fooling. I'm not married. Honest."
And then she chirruped: "Come on, cheer up, fellows. I'm so happy over
being married. I just hate to see you looking like funerals."
Then followed affirmations and denials, the last being a sweeping denial
that she was married.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 1924
Herb Howe
PHOTOPLAY
Mabel Normand is another charmer of child-naturalness who is instantly
ensnaring to men. She is an unbelievable combination of gamin and angel. And,
curiously, the demon never seems to affect the deity in the least. She is the
angel child of the song: When she is good she is very, very good, and when
she is bad she is very good company.
I attended a dinner party which Mabel graced. Among the guests was an
icy dowager who simply refused to melt. Suddenly Mabel looked across at her
and cried, "I'll bite you, baby!" The dowager collapsed.
I don't believe there ever was created a more sincere, unselfish mortal
than Mabel Normand. She is that exhalted type of feminine charmer who can
give a man friendship in lieu of love and still make him feel a triumphant
Lothario.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
January 3, 1924
Edward Doherty
CHICAGO TRIBUNE
(Los Angeles)--Jan. 2--Mabel Normand and Edna Purviance, movie stars,
who were present when Mabel's chauffeur shot Edna's sweetheart, Courtland S.
Dines, last night, will have to tell their stories to the police at least
once more.
...An unvoiced, passionate love for his "movie queen" employer and
jealousy of her host is believed by the police to have caused Horace A.
Greer, the driver, to shoot Dines.
But Mabel herself objects strenuously to this view;
"A chauffeur with a gun!" she said tonight. "Deliver me."
Mabel was more articulate today but not so full of pep. Her fingers
trembled a little as she lit a cigarette. She had just been reading the
newspapers and the police version of the affair seemed to anger her.
"Blah, blah," said Mabel. "Slush, the poor boob was nuts. He was only
one of the servants, and he was treated like one. Why, I didn't even treat
him like--well I've had a lot of good chauffeurs. And good gawd, I didn't
even hire this egg. My secretary did that."
Some one asked Mabel about the gat.
"Well my gawd," she said, "I didn't know how he had it. He says he got
it out of my room. What business had he in my room--my bedroom? Say, I hope I
drop dead if this ain't the truth--that man had been in my room only twice
that I know of--once to fix my curler and once to fix an electric plug.
Honest.
"Somebody gave me that gat to shoot bottles with. I broke a lot of nice
mountains shooting at bottles, but I had a lot of fun. And he says I was in
the room when he cut loose with the gat, and he wasn't shooting at bottles,
either. I wasn't in the room at all. I was in Edna's room. She was putting on
her evening gown and it wasn't hooked up and I didn't want this egg to see
her.
"Then all of a sudden, bang, bang, bang. I thought they were
firecrackers. The kind I used to throw at Ben Turpin. Poor old Ben, he'd look
at me so funny."
Mabel tried to give an imitation of Ben doing the east and west and
nearly strangled on cigarette smoke....
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*****************************************************************************
*****************************************************************************
"The Humor of a Hollywood Murder", Part 7
The Kidnaping of Henry Peavey
February 22, 1922
LOS ANGELES TIMES
Astounding charges that Henry Peavey, negro servant of William D.
Taylor, murdered motion-picture director, was held prisoner for nearly twelve
hours in the office of the Los Angeles Examiner, and that Examiner reporters
late at night took Peavey to the tomb of Taylor, where they attempted to
bully and terrorize him by confronting him with a "ghost," were made last
night by Dist.-Atty. Woolwine, who characterized the Examiner's actions as
"presumptuous, dangerous and dastardly."
The energetic denunciation of Examiner tactics by Mr. Woolwine followed
a long conference between the District Attorney and William F. Eldridge,
managing editor of the Examiner, who went to Mr. Woolwine's office on the
eleventh floor of the Hall of Records.
Mr. Eldridge was preceded in the District Attorney's office by Peavey,
who related in detail the asserted offenses of the Examiner's
representatives. Twelve typewritten pages comprised Peavey's statement to the
District Attorney.
He said that two men came to his room before noon last Sunday and asked
him to come out.
"I am not doing any talking to newspaper reporters"--Peavey said he
informed the pair. One of the men, he said, replied: "Newspaper reporters? We
are not newspaper reporters; we are officers from New York and we have
authority to come down here and get you and have you go over your statements,
and we want you to go down to the Examiner office and answer one question."
Peavey said that he asked them to tell him what question he was to be
asked, but that they said they did not know, adding, he said, "there's $1000
in it for you."
Instead of taking him direct to the Examiner office, however, he said,
one of the men announced, "It is a beautiful day and we will drive around for
awhile."
He says he got into an automobile with the men and was driven through
Hollywood and through the cemetery where Mr. Taylor's body lies. Returning,
he says, the automobile picked up another man at the Alexandria and then
proceeded to the Examiner office.
Upon arriving there, according to Peavey, "we went in and a gentleman
asked me what movie man it was in Hollywood that was paying me to keep my
mouth shut, and I looked at him and said, 'Nobody has ever given me a penny
for anything excepting this gentleman here, who gave me $10.' " This money,
Peavey said, was handed to him during his automobile ride Sunday afternoon.
Peavey told the District Attorney that he was kept waiting for some time
in the Examiner office and that he asked to be permitted to get something to
eat, whereupon, he stated, one of the men said, "No, we will send out and buy
you some." He described the supper brought into the Examiner for him and said
that after further questioning he was taken to Hollywood by the three
Examiner reporters.
He said the Examiner men referred several times to a spiritualist who
would, according to his story of their assertions, cause him to talk with Mr.
Taylor's spirit.
His remarkable story of the appearance of the Examiner's "ghost" and the
fiasco that ensued is taken from the transcript of his testimony on file in
Mr. Woolwine's office.
"They drove into the cemetery and said, 'Gee; goodness! it makes me
nervous to drive into a cemetery at night. How do you feel, Henry?' I
replied, 'It doesn't bother me.' They drove up to the vault where Mr. Taylor
was lying. They said, 'Turn quick.' They turned the car and all the lights
went out to make it dark.
"I got out of the car and walked over to the vault and just as I got
there a man walked out from behind the vault with a white sheet over him and
they said, 'Look! look! look! there is Taylor!'[1]
"I stood and looked at him and he commenced to make some funny noises
and dropped down and got me around the feet and commenced groaning. They kept
trying to make me run, and I wouldn't run, and said:
" 'What in the hell are you guys trying to make out of me anyway, a
fool?' "
Peavey related that a further attempt to intimidate him was made by the
Examiner last night, but that he paid no attention to his asserted
tormentors.
Mr. Woolwine's statement denouncing the Examiner follows:
"Henry Peavey, the negro servant of William D. Taylor, deceased, who has
shown a very deep and genuine grief over the murder of Mr. Taylor, and who
has at all times given the authorities every assistance in his power in their
effort to unravel the mystery of the murder, and who has held himself ready
to respond to repeated calls by the officers for such information as he could
give, was taken from his room by a pair of conscienceless blackguards who
represented themselves to be officers of the law, and held a prisoner from
noon until about midnight on last Sunday. During this imprisonment, he was
subjected to the most outrageous treatment. He was held for hours in the
office of the Los Angeles Examiner, not even being permitted to leave the
premises to get necessary food when he became hungry.
"To add to the unspeakable injustice of this high-handed procedure, he
was conveyed to the cemetery by night by these two scoundrels, who first took
him from his room, and another rascal who joined them, was taken to the tomb
of his former employer and every effort made to bully and terrorize him.
"It should be remembered that this man, Peavey, had been subjected to
the most searching examination, not only by the District Attorney's office,
but by the skilled officers of the Los Angeles Police Department of many
years' experience in the detection of crime. He has at all times shown the
utmost anxiety and eagerness in his effort to render to the duly constituted
authorities every assistance possible. Is is regrettable that the District
Attorney has no jurisdiction over the offense committed by these miscreants
for the false imprisonment of this witness. I have not been able as yet to
ascertain their names, but if I knew them, and had such jurisdiction, they
would be in jail tonight.
"It seems that this witness's only offense is that he is a simple-minded
colored man, who has little knowledge of his real rights as an American
citizen and can neither read nor write. This presumptuous, dangerous and
dastardly interference by a newspaper with the orderly course of procedure by
the duly constituted authorities, is calculated to and does so terrorize good
and well-meaning people that they, for their own protection, keep secret
important facts that might lead to the discovery to the perpetrators of foul
crimes. Such acts are a positive menace to the people at large.
"I feel it my duty as District Attorney of Los Angeles County, to expose
such vile, cowardly and unlawful practices, for the perpetrators of which
every decent citizen should feel a most supreme and utter contempt."
*****************************************************************************
Odds & Ends
February 18, 1922
MIAMI HERALD
We have been feeling a little guilty recently ever since we said that
the movies were not true to life. We really didn't expect that our words
would have such an immediate effect on Hollywood, Cal., that they would feel
it necessary to make their lives true to movies.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 17, 1922
H. I. Phillips
PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER
On the Hollywood Grill
Prosecutor: Now go on and tell us all about it.
Movie Actress: There really is nothing much to tell. I had simply
dropped in to borrow a copy of the Fireman's Weekly Herald. We were both very
literary. We talked a short time, and then I got into my sedan and went home.
Somehow I felt uneasy and I went back to the bungalow. As I entered it I saw
Bartholomew in a heap on the floor. An overturned piano rested on his chest
and there was a bookcase across his neck.
Prosecutor: Whadja do then?
Movie Actress: Nothing. It didn't strike me as suspicious at first.
Bartholomew was often that way when I called!
Prosecutor: Often that way?
Movie Actress: Well, I mean he was often in a heap on the floor,
although I don't recall that he ever had the furniture scattered over him
before. So, not thinking anything of it, I sat down on the floor and tried to
talk to him. He didn't answer. Then I shook him, and when he didn't respond I
began to think something was wrong.
Prosecutor: You finally became suspicious?
Movie Actress: Yeah. I think it was the way the furniture was arranged
over him. Suddenly the thought flashed over me that he had been a victim of
violence!
Prosecutor: Then whadja do?
Movie Actress: I rushed out on to the front porch and cried for help.
Prosecutor: Did anybody answer?
Movie Actress: Why, er, it was most peculiar; there were six other
bungalows in the block and there was a movie actress on the front porch of
each one yelling for help, too. I shouted, "Oh, girls, my director has been
murdered!"
Prosecutor: What'd they say?
Movie Actress: They all yelled back, "So has mine!"
Prosecutor: Then whadja do?
Movie Actress: We all got together, and I found all the girls had had
exactly the same experience I had.
Prosecutor: Didn't that strike you as unusual?
Movie Actress: Well, it was the first time we'd ever had six crimes in
the same block on the same night.
Prosecutor: Did you see anybody else in the neighborhood?
Movie Actress: I saw a stout man in a cap and muffler looking around the
lawn of a hotel across the street.
Prosecutor: What was he doing?
Movie Actress: At first I thought he might have been connected with the
slayings, but I later found he was a prominent screen comedian and knew
nothing about them.
Prosecutor: What was he looking around the lawn for?
Movie Actress: It seems he had been giving a little dinner party in the
hotel and had thrown a young lady guest out of the window in a playful mood.
He was trying to find her when I saw him.
Prosecutor: I have been told by my detectives that a large motor truck
was in the vicinity immediately after the shootings. Did you see it?
Movie Actress: Oh, yes, indeedy.
Prosecutor: What was it doing there?
Movie Actress: Must I tell?
Prosecutor: Yes, it may have an important bearing on the case.
Movie Actress: Well, we girls sent for it to come and cart our letters
away.
(Curtain as the prosecutor collapses.)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 15, 1922
Mae Tinee
CHICAGO TRIBUNE
"Tillie?" Yes, we've seen "Tillie"--featuring Mary Miles Minter--and it
was sickening, entering the theater to see how many people were NOT there to
witness the photoplay but to gape at Mary with morbid eyes, eager to discover
in the lovely face that had charmed them so many times, signs of
dissoluteness.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 17, 1922
VARIETY
The Taylor murder is proving costly to practically all coast production
companies at this time. Star, director and cameraman have been busily engaged
in the discussion of the case each morning at a time they are scheduled to
"shoot." It is safe to say an hour or two were wasted daily last week on all
of the bigger lots as the result of the "post mortem" the Los Angeles dailies
were holding over the character of the slain man.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 12, 1922
LOS ANGELES EXAMINER
(Chicago)--Solomon Fink read aloud to his family last night newspaper
dispatches describing diamonds and automobiles owned by the motion picture
folk of Hollywood. Two hours later a patrolman found Herman Fink, 5, and
Mollie Fischer, 4, a neighbor's child, wandering hand in hand through the
Northwestern Railway Station. The children told the patrolman, "We are going
to Hollywood, where all the rich people live."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 20, 1922
SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE
Blonde Killed Taylor, Says Psychoanalyst
(New York)--"If a woman murdered William Desmond Taylor, she was a
blonde," says Dr. Andre Tridon, eminent psychoanalyst.
Dr. Tridon, interviewed at his home today on aspects of the Taylor
slaying, explained:
"The adrenal gland, a small gland located above the kidneys, is the
physical center of the soul-differences between blondes and brunettes. In
blondes this gland has a large center and a thin covering or cortex. The
center of the gland makes excretions as a result of fear, and the covering
makes an excretion of anger. The blonde has more fear and less anger than the
brunette. It is a simple matter of physical fact.
"In the case of a man who is shot in the back, evidently from ambush or
by an unseen assailant, it is almost dead certain that the woman who did it,
if it was a woman, had blonde hair and a fair complexion. A brunette, being
more violent in temperament, would have faced the man she killed in order to
have the violent pleasure of letting him know she was doing it.
"This does not mean that blondes are less emotional than brunettes.
There is no law, physical or psychological, to regulate the emotions. I mean
only that blondes are less violent than brunettes.
"The dark peoples of the earth, moved by tremendous angers and passions,
are the people who use knives and like to get a close quarters with their
victims when they go out to kill.
"If a brunette had committed the Taylor murder she might have used a
stiletto, or knife of some kind. At any rate, she would have faced him and
shot while he realized what she was doing. The brunette demands actual
contact with the object of her love or hate."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 26, 1922
Louella Parsons
NEW YORK TELEGRAPH
Social Requirements
If one is invited to dine or to luncheon, or to tea outside the industry
one is expected to have at least one original idea on who murdered Taylor. At
first it was rather a shock to have someone say:
"Oh come, you know all the inside dope, tell me."
Not having had any previous experience with unraveling murder mysteries
and not being a graduate of a Sherlock Holmes school it was something of a
blow to be prepared to given an explanation of who killed the most talked of
man in the country.
To our earnest, "Really I did not know Mr. Taylor. I have no idea who
could have killed him," we have been met with suspicious looks and a manner
as if we were concealing some of the inside facts.
But every one else in the motion picture industry has had the same
experience. To be connected with motion pictures in any way is enough to make
the layman believe one should know more than State's Attorney Woolwine and
the men who are unraveling this murder mystery.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 28, 1922
CHICAGO POST
Now that the road of financial success starts with pre-eminence in
federal politics, and the movie magnates select their sergeants-major from
the available supply of national postmasters-general, we may expect the
converse of the rule to take effect and the people's rulers to be taken from
the amusement field:
PILLAR NOMINATION
For Postmaster-General, to succeed Will Hays, we nominate:
MISS MARY MILES MINTER
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 10, 1922
WICHITA EAGLE
"Mary Miles Minter is as clean and lovable a girl as is on earth,"
declared L. D. Balsly, publicity manager for the Wichita Theater. "The only
successful films she was in were directed by Taylor, so why should she not
have admired him?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
June 10, 1922
Karl Kitchen
LITERARY DIGEST
(reprinted from NEW YORK WORLD)
Just as an oil-well may be described as a hole in the ground owned by a
liar, Hollywood may be described as a collection of bungalows and motion-
picture studios written about by liars.
It is an actual fact that more lies have been written about this dreary,
desolate suburb of Los Angeles than any other part of California.
Hollywood is in no sense a city. It has no local government, no art
galleries, no museums, no institutions of learning aside from primary schools
and kindergartens--nothing that makes the slightest pretense to culture--
civic or otherwise.
Its only restaurants are cafeterias--self-serve tooth and jaw gymnasiums
where it is as fashionable to use a toothpick in public as it is to leave the
spoon in one's cup. It doesn't boast of a single theater except the cheapest
movie playhouses.
There are no evidences of any life--wicked or of the night variety--
anywhere within its precincts. If in the daytime more than two people walk
abreast on Hollywood or Sunset Boulevards--broad avenues that lead nowhere--
the inhabitants mistake them for a parade. In fact, no inmate of this quiet
suburb leaves his home after sundown except, perhaps, to buy an evening
paper.
My own theory is that William Desmond Taylor committed suicide rather
than remain in Hollywood another fortnight.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 15, 1922
Neal O'Hara
NEW YORK EVENING WORLD
Hollywood Notes
A consignment of seventy-two deaf and dumb men arrived in Hollywood
yesterday to serve as chauffeurs.
* *
A delightful informal party of the upper screen set was enjoyed at the
Mussey bungalow last evening. Games were played and frolicking indulged in
till an early morning hour, when a ride in the patrol wagon was enjoyed by
all.
* *
Eustace Gwick has been signed to play the role of Morphine in the new
super-hypo-photoplay, "Ten Nights in a Drug Store." Genevieve Sickle will
play the part of the Heroin.
* *
Police report a new clue in the Hollywood murder mystery. Can of
alphabet soup has been found in mystery bungalow, containing initials from A
to Z, inclusive. Every film staress in the colony denies the can of soup is
hers.
* *
Members of the Hollywood set are enjoying sleigh riding this winter.
* *
Markdown sale of pink nighties, initialed handkerchiefs and other
incriminating lingerie at Blitz Brothers' Dept. Store, Hollywood. Closing out
a fine line of goods owing to unexpected lack of demand.
* *
Mudington Frizz, the well known hop lover, is having his arm
revulcanized.
* *
Reformers at Venice, Cal, urge that film bathing girls be kept out of
the water. Claim gals are giving the Pacific Ocean a bad name.
* *
POSITION WANTED--Butler with wide experience and closed mouth wants
position in reliable bungalow. Best of references, tongue-tied and eyesight
poor. Also skilled as buyer of ladies' wear.
* *
Winnie Whoozis, petit favorite of the screen, admits making X's on mash
note, but claims she thought it was Australian ballot. Election officials
have been called in.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 24, 1922
William Parker
SAN FRANCISCO BULLETIN
My friend said to me, "Look here now, you can't tell me--to be specific-
-that little Miss ------ ------ is the sort of a girl she should be."
"No," I replied frankly, "she is not. Were Miss ------ ------ an
ordinary girl a good sound spanking would be of vast benefit to her and to
the motion picture industry as a whole."
"It is so easy--" there was a sneer in his tone. "--then why isn't it
done?"
"I will tell you why. In the days before motion pictures came into
vogue, Mama ------ ------ , a blue-nosed Yankee [sic] woman, was a stock
actress of mediocre ability and with a sniveling brat on her hands. She never
knew whether her next week's booking would be in vaudeville or the poorhouse.
Can you imagine Mama ------ ------'s feelings when this same brat jumped into
public popularity and a large salary because of a winsomeness which appealed
to motion picture audiences! Mama ------ ------ now has diamonds, limousines,
a mansion and an English accent. And you would ask her to spank the source of
this luxury!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 21, 1922
H. I. Phillips
NEW YORK GLOBE
Analyzing a Hollywood Clue
A new mystery woman has been brought into the investigation of William
Desmond Taylor's murder. A garage man has told how a young woman, bareheaded
and in evening gown, appeared to be fleeing from Los Angeles the night of the
murder.
"She stopped at a garage in Ventura, Cal., at 3 A.M. and ordered all the
gasoline and oil her car would hold," says the dispatch. "She had driven up
at a terrific speed, her hair was blown awry, her face was pale and drawn,
and she bit nervously at her gloves. She gave a bill in payment, and did not
wait for change."
Maybe she shot Taylor, but her actions, according to the above account,
were only those of a woman whose husband had become too helpless to drive,
and who was doing her best to get him and the car home before sunrise.
Probably, had the garage man looked, he would have seen him asleep on the
floor of the car muttering: "Who shays I'm too drunk t' drive ish car? All
right, then, you drive ish!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
March 12, 1922
BOSTON GLOBE
George Ade, who recently spent several weeks in Hollywood, tells an
amusing story about the scramble of some of the film stars to appear
"respectable" following the sensational stories recently coming out of
Hollywood. According to Ade it got to be quite the fashion for youthful film
stars to be photographed with their mothers in order to show how well they
were protected.
"And do you know," says Ade, "some of the gelatine stars spent two or
three weeks finding where their mothers lived so that they could wire them to
come to Hollywood to have their pictures taken."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 13, 1922
Walter Anthony
SAN FRANCISCO BULLETIN
We wondered why a guard was placed around the home of Mary Miles Minter,
following the publication of her passionate "I love you, I love you" letter
to Taylor.
When Miss Minter broke into print in an interview the reason was clear.
She, or some one wiser than she, surrounded her with guards to prevent her
from talking for publication. Of the man who deserted his wife and baby and
whose whole career is a mystery and a camouflage, Mary said:
"I don't believe he ever had a wife. He never told me he had, and our
acquaintance was such that I'm sure he wouldn't deceive me. He could only be
compared with God, he was so good."
Mary doesn't need a guard, she needs a gag.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 8, 1922
Roy Moulton
NEW YORK MAIL
Twinkle, Little Movie Star, How I Wonder Where You Are!
The motto of the fillum colony seems to be "Fillum up again." But that
doesn't lead us any closer to the solution of the crime. We are now getting
our own news from Hollywood and in the rush of getting out an afternoon paper
we are obliged to present it in a sort of disjointed way, mingling the
strictly editorial utterances with the news items. That such a thing could
happen in the motion picture colony is shocking and unexpected. To begin
with, according to my reports from the scene, everybody is agreed that the
victim was not fond of any woman, didn't associate with them and was
practically a hermit. Never a breath, you understand--
FLASH: Quantities of silk lingerie and negligee found in bureau drawers
of bungalow. Silk nighties neatly folded, some with hairpins in them.
TO EDITORS--ADD FLASH--Taylor did not wear silk nighties or hairpins.
The plot thickens.
Miss Mazie Tabasco, prominent and beautiful screen star, told the police
today that she never knew Taylor, never saw him and that he did not tell her
he was going to beat up his valet. Miss Tabasco last appeared in 1909 in "The
Tribulations of Tillie." She maintained under close questioning that she
never heard of Taylor. Nobody in the film colony ever heard of her. So it
looks like a draw.
Bill Taylor was a man's man. Everybody in the movie colony knew that. He
associated with men who did embroidery and knitting and point lace. All the
love letters in the bungalow were tied with blue baby ribbon.
ADD MAZIE TABASCO: Miss Tabasco wore a charming mink coat and rolled
stockings when questioned by the police. She was almost overcome by emotion
but was not too weak to be photographed.
Miss Juniper Berry, a beautiful screen star, was bewitchingly dressed as
she alighted from her motor in front of police headquarters this morning,
where she went to volunteer what information she didn't have concerning the
crime. She wore a saucy turban with red cherries, a mauve sport coat. She
didn't know a thing about the crime, but the photographers got some excellent
pictures. Miss Berry is one of the most prominent unknown screen actresses in
the country. She is looking for a job.
FLASH: The gun was a .38-caliber. Important.
ADD FLASH: Jealousy was the cause. A well-known actor was in love with a
beautiful actress who had an ice cream soda with Taylor three years ago, and
he swore vengeance. He will be arrested before night, but we don't know what
night.
FLASH: It has been definitely proven that jealousy was not the cause.
The actress mentioned is Miss Hyacinth De Vere. She never met Taylor, and she
says it was not an ice cream soda she had with him that day anyhow, but a nut
sundae.
IMPORTANT: Miss June Bugg, the beautiful film favorite, has hastened
here to deny a statement that has never been made to the effect that she was
in the bungalow at the time of the murder. She was in Kansas City that night.
She indignantly denies that she was engaged to Taylor. Nobody ever said she
was, and the incident has been dropped.
"I loved him with all my heart and soul," sobbed Miss Lutie Bibbins, the
beautiful film star, after she had fought her way into police headquarters to
give her version of the affair. "I loved him, but there was nothing
sentimental about it. We were just good pals." Miss Bibbins wore attractive
furs and a Paris suit, also galoshes with buttons not buttoned. She carried a
walking stick with gold head incrusted with diamonds.
FLASH: Miss Ida Frothingham, the well-known and beautiful screen star,
informed the police today that Miss Bibbins had never seen Taylor in her
life. "I am the one who gave him the $1,800 ebony cigarette holder," said
Miss Frothingham. "He was my best friend and I am all busted up. If you have
got to get my picture don't get a profile. I am simply overwhelmed."
Others who denied to the police today that they were engaged to Taylor
were Misses Ivy Stump, Hazel Wood, Rose Bush, Celludid St. Claire, Amethyst
Binks, Geraldine Gimme, Minnie Maggie Mudge, Tapioca Todd and Lucille
Luscious.
One hundred and thirty-seven beautiful film stars denied themselves to
callers today. The plot thickens.
Miss Anastasia Hash, prominent and beautiful film star, volunteered some
important evidence to the police today. Miss Hash's story was as follows,
taken from stenographic notes:
"I passed right by the bungalow three evenings before the crime and I
didn't see a thing. I got this sable coat in Paris. I never met Mr. Taylor.
My next picture will be produced by the Punkart people. I have never been in
love."
Miss Oleomargarine Pipp, the beautiful film star, told the police today:
"I had lunch with Mr. Taylor in 1919 in Los Angeles. I didn't notice anything
wrong with him then. I have not seen him since."
FLASH--IMPORTANT: The bungalow was built of wood.
FLASH: New and important witness sought. He is a man high up in the
screen profession--very high indeed. He does airplane stunts. Evidence is
very strong against him as the possible murderer, as he was in New York at
the time of the shooting.
Miss Gardenia Geranium Julap, the well-known and beautiful screen star,
is hastening to Hollywood from Alaska to be interviewed. She was there on
location at the time of the crime and never heard of Taylor before. She is on
the verge of a nervous breakdown.
The police believe they have rounded up nearly everybody who doesn't
know anything about the crime and who never knew Taylor.
Was it jealousy? Was it business rivalry? Did some woman hire an
assassin to fire the bullet? Was it a holdup?
One feature of the thing has baffled the police from the start. There
doesn't seem to be any woman mixed up in it.
And then again, it has come to a pretty pass when the movie colony
cannot pull off a murder or two without the police getting all steamed up
over it.
Please pass the smelling salts.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
February 13, 1922
Herb Westen
SAN FRANCISCO CALL-POST
(Los Angeles)--Out of a population of 567,000 today in this city there
are 575,996 amateur and professional detectives seeking the murderer of
Taylor.
Out of the remaining four two are deaf, dumb and blind and do not read
the newspapers; one left town this morning and the fourth is--the slayer
himself.
The sleuthing fever is at a high heat and book stores report a
phenomenal run on Sherlock Holmes, Craig Kennedy and the lurid Nick Carter.
With the incentive of two $1000 rewards, one offered by a local
newspaper and the other by the Screen Writers' Guild, everyone is suspicious
of everyone else and the chief of police is considering ordering everyone but
the slayer to wear a badge.
*****************************************************************************
Tall Tales #3: The Atlantic City Confession
March 5, 1922
Edward Doherty
SYRACUSE POST-STANDARD
Police Say Educated Man Sent Letter of Confession
Out of the hundreds of letters touching on the William Desmond Taylor
murder mystery that have come to the Los Angeles authorities, one was
selected today for investigation.
It was written by a man who says he committed the murder out of revenge.
The letter was sent special delivery.
Captain David L. Adams of the detective bureau, while keeping secret the
name of the writer, declares the man is evidently a scholar. "I am confident
the writer will be under arrest in 24 hours," Captain Adams said. "I am
convinced that the writer is not a fanatic."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
March 12, 1922
LOS ANGELES EXAMINER
Taylor Death Note Revealed
The startling letter of "confession" received by Captain of Detectives
David L. Adams last Saturday is the only letter out of many hundreds received
at police headquarters that is receiving the serious attention of Captain
Adams.
The letter in question is as follows:
"Hotel Traymore, Atlantic City, N. J.
"As I am of the opinion that the JUST murder of ONE W. D. Taylor has
just a bit too much limelight and that he is being defended by too many duped
friends, I take it upon myself to write these few lines to you, for I have
accomplished my purpose by killing the DIRTY CUR, and even this is a mild
description of the man who had hidden behind a clean, polite and polished
personality.
"This much, my dear friend, I will inform you, not one of the women
whose names have been brought into this affair had anything to do with his
death, nor his secretary and valet, Peavey could, in my own personal opinion,
say much if he would of W. D.'s relations with several women callers,
although W. D. never had him remain all night at his home.
"Just nine years ago Taylor entered into my wife's life and always a
lover of everything that was good and an admirer of a real gentleman, she was
very soon under my friend's GOOD INFLUENCE, and here, Captain, I might add
that Taylor was my friend.
"He always at first made it his business to gain the complete confidence
of all his women. As to my wife she fairly worshiped him, and while I was a
good husband and tidy I had not the personality that W. D. had. My wife soon
fell to contrasting the two of us and would tell me I should do so and so and
be like so and so, and so on until I began to spend my evenings at the club
because it became too irksome at home, and because I was too much of a
gentleman to ask W. D. to leave until his visit, which in truth was a
vacation, had expired, for he was my guest by invitation.
"But, oh H--, Captain, why should I bother you with so much detail;
suffice it to say (here follows story of alleged relations between Taylor and
the writer's wife).
"He had wanted my wife as he had wanted other women that took his fancy.
He was a gentleman always to all persons outwardly. And he went about it by
acts of kindness and charity to such a degree that he convinced even the most
skeptical, and now, Captain, in the midst of my condemnation of the man, I
ask you not to lose sight of the fact that W. D. played four women and a girl
at one time and had the complete confidence of each and had each visit him
separately, and yet played each so skillfully that they each of them were
absolutely convinced that he had only their future welfare in mind at all
times, and so gained their complete confidence and later their affection
though his by-play of friendship and paternal interest.
"Until he became involved with (mentioning the name of a film actress) I
was inclined to let him go because in time I think (another luminary of the
film world) would have gotten him in revenge, for she was the only woman who
saw at least partly through W. D., and I think a little later intended to
compel W. D. to do her bidding, for he meant much to her both in financial
and other ways, for ----, like Taylor, enjoys both freedom and a good name,
and she could go a long ways toward making a bargain with a man like Taylor.
"The three women connected with Taylor (here follows a bitter
denunciation of both Taylor and the women named). But the other actress was a
good girl, and as I and my wife knew Taylor well enough to know that he would
get her and my wife swore to me that if he did she would kill him, I thought
it about time to take a hand myself, for I had sworn to get Taylor some day,
but in a way that I would never hang for it, and so I set about planning how,
and here, Captain, I might add that in spite of all any one tells you to the
contrary (that W. D. feared no one) he lived constantly in fear that I would
some day get him, for he knew me well and he feared more than ever when he
learned that my wife's love had turned to hate, for he knew her, too.
"South American women, you know, can hate as deeply and intensely as
they can love, and with all his smooth personality he was not diplomatic
enough to carry her along with others as he did his American women. There are
two facts that have been overlooked to date, Captain. They are these:
"We had been living in the central section of the financial district at
a hotel on Spring Street and were out in the colony daily and only on one
occasion did we let Taylor see us, and that only after we had made a careful
study of his everyday habits and life as he lived.
"I even came East on two occasions on the same train. Well, Captain,
what is the use of detail? I return again to the two facts. On the afternoon
of the night of the killing we borrowed a friend's car and drove to the home
of another acquaintance near Venice. We returned to L.A. and changed clothes
and dined.
"We then drove out to Hollywood to within two squares of W. D.'s home
and left the car and proceeded on foot up Alvarado. Being familiar with the
time Peavey left, we intended to go in on Taylor after he was alone. I had
pass keys to both the front and back doors. Seeing a woman coming down the
street we separated, my wife turned away from Alvarado and circled and I
struck off up the street and behind shrubbery and foliage.
"The woman, I believe, was a nurse and I believe saw me, but owing to
the distance and the way I had my muffler and cap she could never recognize
me anyhow. A car was at the curb and I joined my wife at the back of the
house.
"I let my wife in the back door. My wife went to the living room, where
she listened unobserved, and then I slipped the front door, and any one at
all could have seen me do it. Taylor returned and went to the drawer of the
table and put a letter there from his pocket and turned and sat down in the
chair, where he remarked to himself:
" 'I wish I were away from there. This ---- place is getting on my
nerves, and most of all, these ---- women.' (Follows an alleged opinion upon
the part of Taylor concerning some of his friends.)
"Then my wife stepped into the room and I with her and she spoke to him
and she said:
" 'Well, well, William dear, I see you still have a little influence
over women.'
"He said, 'God, I knew it.' and turned and I fired. As he fell forward
he called my wife by name and said he knew she would do it but he would
rather have her do it, for it was her that he had hurt more than any one he
ever knew and deserved it. He did not die for fully fifteen minutes, and what
few things he said concerned only us.
"For a few minutes my wife's old infatuation came back to her and she
knelt beside him and cried, and then laid him out tenderly. God, man, but
women are mysterious creatures.
"I woke her up by telling her we were guilty of murder and so far were a
long way from safe as we had planned. She cursed the fool and put her cloak
around her and I went out back to see if everything was clear. Oh, by the
way, I forgot to mention that we were both inside when the chauffeur for W.
D. came up and we watched him go away. I sent the wife out the back way and
she went around the block and I walked out the front door and down Alvarado
Street.
"The wife was sitting in the car and I got in and drove to L.A. We did
not go right back to the hotel, but took in a moving picture because the girl
was nervous. Then back to the hotel.
"Wife continued nervous and I realized that she had best get away. Sent
her in car to friends at Santa ----. She did not change clothes still having
on evening gown. Bell-boy took a grip down to car for us and I bid her good-
bye. Checked out next day and joined her. We then came back and took train
for Chicago. From Chi to Buffalo. Left her in Toronto and I came to New York,
from there to here.
"Have settled business interests here and in N.Y. and now on way to ----
. Could do a lot towards clearing up things but there is no such thing as
immunity for a self confessed murderer and I believe I did a just thing and
if not God in his good time will punish me.
"When you receive this I shall be on the high seas and I have very
powerful influence where my wife and I are going, and what is the use of
California spending so much money goose chasing? I would like to see you get
the reward Capt. but under circumstances must disappoint you. Am writing to
you because you are the only one out of all connected that will stick to your
own deductions and convictions. There were only two people who knew who
killed W. D. and when you receive this there will be three. The more you
investigate along wrong paths the more you hurt the M.P. Industry.
"Adieu captain."
The name of the man signed to the alleged confession is that of a person
well known in picture circles.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
March 8, 1922
MEMPHIS COMMERCIAL APPEAL
(Los Angeles)--Police detectives assigned to the William Desmond Taylor
murder mystery announced they had discarded the "confession" recently mailed
here from Atlantic City, N.J., as the work of an unsound mind.
They declared that the handwriting of the man whose name was signed to
the "confession" said to be a prominent figure in the motion picture
industry, in no way corresponds to that in which the correspondence was
written.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
(to be continued)
*****************************************************************************
NEXT ISSUE:
"Hollywood Mysteries"--Shredded
"The Humor of a Hollywood Murder" Part 8:
Confessions, Confessions, Poetry Potpourri, The Public Speaks;
Epilogue: August 1923
*****************************************************************************
NOTES:
[1] According to Florabel Muir in Headline Happy, this episode was
masterminded by Frank Carson, and the "ghost" was Al Weinshank, who would
later become one of the victims of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre.
*****************************************************************************
For more information about Taylor, see
WILLIAM DESMOND TAYLOR: A DOSSIER (Scarecrow Press, 1991)
Back issues of Taylorology are available via Gopher or FTP at
etext.archive.umich.edu
in the directory pub/Zines/Non_Fiction/Taylorology
