Dad returned home at the crack of dawn to shake my mother awake to hear his theories and motives about an actual murder that had happened only a block from where they slept. He predicted, even before the Los Angeles Times or Confidential magazine hit the stands, that Lana Turner did the stabbing, but her teenage daughter, Cheryl Crane, would take the fall since she was too young to go to prison. His excitement bewildered my mother, neither of them realizing that his fascination with crime stories would one day make him famous.
