Justice Times Two, Conclusion

Three alienists, Drs. Benjamin Blank, Victor Parkin and Paul Bowers, were called on to determine Gray McNeer’s sanity. The doctors testified at a sanity hearing on October 29, 1934.  They said that they had examined Gray and found him to be sane. The jury concurred. Gray’s trial for Betty’s murder would resume despite his loud and incoherent courtroom outbursts.

The day following Gray’s sanity hearing, S.S. Hahn announced that his client would take the stand in his own defense.  Putting Gray on the stand was a risky move. If he was incapable of controlling himself at the defense table, how would he fare on the witness stand? On more than one occasion the trial had to be adjourned because Gray became hysterical.  How would Gray, still swathed in bandages and wheelchair bound, comport himself under cross examination?

mcneer takes standGray was scheduled to take the stand on November 2nd but he was too ill to appear in court.  The trial was delayed for a few days until it was decided that if Gray couldn’t come to court, the court would come to him.  The trial resumed at Gray’s bedside in the County Jail Hospital.

Gray testified that on the night of the Betty’s death he met her at the apartment of a mutual friend, Lucille Herner, and then they drove to an isolated spot in Glendale where they argued. It was in the midst of their argument, Gray said, that Betty pulled out a gun. He said he felt a heavy blow to his head and then didn’t remember a thing until he regain consciousness in the Glendale Police Station. It was there that he was informed that his Betty’s body had been found in the car next to him.mcneer guilty

The remainder of the trial was conducted in the hospital with Dr. Benjamin Blank in constant attendance to monitor Gray’s condition.  The case went to the jury late on November 7th.  At 10 p.m., after hours of deliberation, the jury was sequestered for the night.

On the evening of November 8th the jury returned with their verdict.  They found Gray guilty of second degree murder.  Gray began to babble incoherently, but settled down after a reprimand from the judge. Gray’s mother, Lola, said she had no plan to appeal the verdict.  S.S. Hahn said, “Mrs. McNeer is convinced that her son’s condition is such that the probably will not live to serve his sentence.”  The doctors disagreed.  They believed Gray would recover from the bullet wound.

gray folsomGray was taken to Folsom Prison to begin serving his sentence of from 5 years to life. Gray’s mother said there was no plan to file an appeal.  But plans change.

gray new trial

The bullet in his head was removed by San Quentin physicians, so Gray was in much better shape for his second trial than he had been for the first go ‘round.

In Judge Vicker’s court, Gray’s second trial began with testimony from police chemist Ray Pinker. Pinker testified that powder burns on Betty’s arms indicated that she was directly in front of the gun at the time the fatal shot was fired into her head. The powder burns were not consistent with a suicide.

Gray took the stand on November 21st.  He reiterated the story he had told at his first trial.  Gray said that he and Betty had taken an automobile ride and attempted reconciliation.  When she refused to return to him Gray said he suggested divorce. According to Gray, Betty became angry, pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.  He said even though he was gravely wounded he struggled with Betty for possession of the weapon. He lost the struggle and,that’s when Betty turned the gun on herself.

The trial was going along smoothly until Deputy District Attorney Wildey asked Gray to repeat a conversation he’d had with Betty right before the shooting.  Gray snapped: “I will not repeat it.  It’s all cut and dried. Go ahead and shoot what you have.  I refuse to testify further in this case!” Gray then grabbed his crutch and hobbled away from the witness stand, ignoring the judge’s order to answer the question. That was it for Gray.  He didn’t take the stand again. gray quentin

The case went to the jury of six men and six women who, just as the jury in the first trial, had to be sequestered.

When the jury returned, Gray was found guilty of first degree murder and sentenced to life in prison. He’d rolled the dice on a second trial and come up snake eyes. His second sentence was harsher than the first.

In 1958, after 24 years in prison, Gray appealed again on the grounds of double jeopardy. The plea was rejected. Shortly afterwards he sought legal relief via habeas corpus. He wasn’t represented by S.S. Hahn because Hahn had died mysteriously in the swimming pool at his son’s cabin in Castaic. The two public defenders representing Gray were successful and he was ordered returned to Los Angeles for re-sentencing for the crime of second degree murder. I haven’t been able to find out what happened at the re-sentencing hearing.

Gray Everett McNeer died in Sacramento on July 27, 1964.

NOTE:  I’m going to try to find out what happened to Gray. If any of you find anything please let me know!

UPDATE 5/29/2017:  Many thanks to a reader, Katie, for letting me know that Gray McNeer committed suicide in Folsom prison in 1964.  With her information I found the following paragraph from the Long Beach Independent dated July 28, 1964:

mcneer

Justice Times Two, Part 2

A Coroner’s jury found Gray McNeer responsible for the murder of his wife, Betty.  The gun used in the murder and attempted suicide was a weapon Gray had stolen from Harry Harris, a friend of his.  Harris, a harbor guard, discovered his gun and some shells were missing after Gray’s visit the night prior to the shooting.  When detectives showed Harris the weapon, he identified it as his own.

Gray wasn’t able to appear at any hearings because he was in serious condition. On August 6th his attorney, S.S. Hahn, announced that Gray would appear in court that morning. The defendant was in bad shape as a result of the gunshot wound to his head. He was blind in one eye, deaf in one ear,  partially paralyzed and he still had a bullet lodged in his brain. Despite the gravity of his injuries, Gray appeared for his preliminary hearing before Municipal Judge Galbreth, just as S.S. Hahn said he would. The defendant’s head was swathed in bandages and he was in a wheel chair, but at least he’d made it.

mcneer and motherGray’s mother, Lola, remained at her son’s bed side and on August 24th it was reported that she had given her official consent for an operation to remove the bullet from his brain.  It isn’t clear why a man in his 30s would need his mother’s consent, but it may have been that he was in no condition to give it himself.  S.S. Hahn told the court that in his present condition Gray was in imminent danger of death and that, even if he survived, he might be become “an imbecile.”  The operation was given odds of 100 to 1 that it would succeed; but it was Gray’s only hope.

S.S. Hahn requested a continuance of the trial so that Gray could undergo the potentially lethal surgery.  The request was granted. But would any of the local surgeons be willing to undertake such a delicate procedure?  The answer was no.  Specialists at General Hospital declined to perform the surgery even though they agreed that Gray was doomed without it.  The same group of surgeons put Gray’s odds at less that 1000 to 1 for survival.

Of course S.S. Hahn had a lot to say about the doctors’ refusal: “His mother wants that chance to be taken.  She wants to save her son and we are going to operate if it takes a court order to do it.”  The attorney found four brain specialists who were willing to volunteer for the surgery, but General Hospital balked.  Hahn said: “They tell us that nonresident physicians are not permitted to operate at the General Hospital and since the patient is charged with murder he cannot be removed from there.  Well, we will see what the courts have to say about that, too.” Judge Schmidt responded with a court order which permitted the outside physicians to perform the surgery on Gray’s brain.

Surgery was scheduled for September 8, 1934, but after he took a turn for the better the operation was put on hold indefinitely. Ten days later, Gray appeared in court once again. He was still bandaged and in a wheel chair. He entered a not guilty plea and he still publicly contended that Betty had shot him first and then killed herself.

McNeer and Hahn were in court on October 25th for opening statements. Gray was a pathetic sight. Would the jury be swayed in his favor even if they believed his misery was self-inflicted?  Hahn outlined his case for the jury.  He said that he was going to prove:

  • That Mrs. McNeer on three previous occasions had threatened to end her own life.
  • That several nights before the shooting, Mrs. McNeer went to the home of Harry B. Harris, special officer, at 1030 Hyperion Avenue, and sought to borrow his gun.
  • That the day before the shooting Mrs. McNeer called again at Harris’s home and remained there alone for some time.

Court adjourned when Gray collapsed and had to be returned to the County Jail Hospital.

The following day Gray was in court moaning, groaning and muttering incoherently. He yelled out: “You wouldn’t treat a yellow dog like you are treating me; why don’t somebody give me something?”  Following a few more outbursts, Judge Burnell addressed Gray: “You will have to keep quiet; this sort of thing will not be allowed at all, Mr. McNeer.  Thi sort of theatricalism has got to stop right now, and you might as well know it.”  Then the judge turned to Hahn and said: “Can’t you do something with your client, Mr. Hahn?”

mcneer and mother at trialHahn objected to the Judge’s admonition and there was a short recess.  Once back in the courtroom, Judge Burnell spoke to the jury:  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I am making this statement to you at the suggestion and with the consent of counsel for both sides, the People and the defendant.  You, of course, could not help but observe the fact yesterday afternoon that the defendant was making more or loess noise, talking and groaning, and the Court made some remarks about ceasing the theatricals, or something of that sort.  That, of course, is something that you haven’t any business to pay any attention to, and I want you to entirely disregard it.  The defendant is here   on trial for one specific offense, and all the jury have any right to consider whatever is the evidence in the case and nothing else.  I know you will appreciate that and be able to do that, but for your information, in view of the apparent condition of the defendant, I am trying now to get hold of Dr. Blank, the jail physician, to come down here and tell us whether he thinks from his examination of the defendant there is any reason why the case should not continue. In other words, whether or not the defendant is in a condition physically and mentally that will preclude going ahead with the trial.  Until we hear from Dr. Blank, we will go ahead, and if there is any demonstration on the part of the defendant, you will disregard it.  You are not here to try anything except the facts in this case.”

Dr. Blank examined Gray and ascertained that he was in more pain than he had been in previously and that he was on sedatives continuously.  The doctor feared that Gray’s sanity was being affected and advised the judge to suspend the proceedings until a determination could be made.

The judge did exactly what Dr. Blank had advised him to do, and the trial was continued to October 29, 1934 at 10:00 a.m.  Gray’s sanity would be decided then based on an examination conducted by Drs. Benjamin Blank, Victor Parkin and Paul Bowers.

NEXT TIME: Will Gray McNeer’s trial continue

Justice Times Two, Part 1

Los Angeles has been home to some of the wiliest and most wicked criminals in the world.  And where there are criminals there are attorneys to defend them.  I’ll leave it to you to decide which group is worse.

Among the defense attorneys who practiced in the city, one of the most fascinating was Samuel Simpson Hahn.  Known as S.S. Hahn, which makes him sound like a luxury liner, Hahn was born Schrul Widelman on September 18, 1888 in Ternova, Besarubia, Russia.  He is believed to have arrived in the U.S. on June 30, 1906 and changed his name to Samuel Needleman.  Contrary to the persistent belief that xenophobic immigration agents arbitrarily changed the names of newcomers many people opted to change their surnames to adapt to their new lives in America.  In any case, by 1912 the newly minted Samuel Needleman had moved to Los Angeles and had changed his name one last time. He became Samuel Simpson Hahn.  That moniker stuck with him for the rest of his life.

S.S. Hahn with a witness in Aimee Semple McPherson's trial. [Photo courtesy of LAPL]

S.S. Hahn with a witness in Aimee Semple McPherson’s trial. [Photo courtesy of LAPL]

On July 22, 1915, having passed his exam, Samuel Hahn was admitted to the California State Bar and for the next four decades he defended some of the most notorious criminals in the city.  Hahn’s client list reads like a Who’s Who of local crime.  Among those who sought his services were serial killer Louise Peete and naughty evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson.

Hahn didn’t limit his practice to felons. Following WWII there was a sharp uptick in divorces.  Starry-eyed couples who married in the heat of passion during wartime found themselves dreading the prospect of thousands of dreary days in each other’s company. In 1945, LIFE Magazine featured Hahn in an article on divorce mills.   Interestingly, he appears to have met his second wife, Mary Monroe, when she came to him to dissolve her marriage.

HAHN_MARY MONROE

I intend to write more about S.S. Hahn in the coming months.  I find his career worthy of multiple posts.  He was disbarred as a young attorney in the 1910s, possibly for suborning perjury, but appears to have won an appeal to restore his license. His death by drowning in a backyard swimming pool in 1957 was ruled a suicide, but it was highly suspicious. I’ll get to more of Hahn’s life later—I think you’ll find it compelling.

Today I’m going to cover a 1934 case from the Hahn files in which he defended a man accused of murdering his wife.

Shortly before midnight on Wednesday, June 27, 1934, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Kilborane of 4919 Bemis Street were driving on a lonely stretch of dirt road between the Southern Pacific tracks and the Los Angeles River. They were about 200 feet West of the intersection of San Fernando Road and Colorado Boulevard when they noticed a car.  It isn’t clear what caught the attention of the couple but they decided to investigate.  They found a woman sitting upright and dead on the passenger side. Seated next to her behind the steering wheel was a man.  He was severely wounded and semi-conscious. Both had suffered gunshot wounds to the head.

betty mcneerPolice identified the victims as Gray (Grey) Everett McNeer and his estranged wife, Beatrice (Betty) Helene Harker McNeer. While fighting for his life in the General Hospital Gray managed a brief statement in which he laid the blame for the shootings on his dead wife. Unfortunately for Gray the physical evidence suggested a far different scenario.

There were a couple of major problems with Gray’s statement.  First, Betty had been shot three times in the head and second, she was right handed. Even a contortionist would have found it difficult to shoot herself on the left side of her head if she was right handed. Besides, if Betty was the shooter why would she leave her intended victim moaning and alive?  Wouldn’t she have made certain he was dead before she turned the gun on herself—three times? Detectives were convinced Gray was a killer and placed him in the prison ward of the hospital—not that he was capable of taking it on the lam.  Doctors weren’t convinced that he would make it through the night.

gray mcneerWith Gray in the hospital, Detective Lieutenants Sanderson and Hill of the police department began their investigation into the backgrounds of the McNeers.

At 33 years of age Gray already had an extensive criminal record.  The 1930 Federal Census lists Gray as an inmate in the Oklahoma State Penitentiary where he was a machine operator in the pants factory. He was in prison for his part in the robbery of a paper company in Oklahoma City.  If his life since his release from prison was any indication of his future plans he had no intention of going straight, ever.  At the time of the shooting Gray was wanted for questioning in a recent string of robberies in Los Angeles.

Betty was 29 when she died and she had been married and divorced twice before she tangled with Gray.  She was 19 when she married a wealthy Altadena inventor, E.P. Pottinger. They divorced after two years and Betty wed Arthur Nollau who owned a knitting mill at 1409 West Washington Boulevard.  The marriage to Nollau also lasted roughly two years.  Twenty-four months seemed to be limit of Betty’s attention span for marriage.  In the days prior to her death she had filed for divorce from Gray to whom, you guessed it, she had been married for approximately two years.

Gray’s condition appeared to be improving; which meant that the ex-con would likely be indicted for  his wife’s murder.  In that case he would require the services of an attorney.

NEXT TIME:  Justice Times Two continues.

 

1901

The Plot to Kidnap America’s Sweetheart, Part 3

There may have been no corpus delicti and no overt act but Charles Z. Stevens, Claude Holcomb and Adrian Woods were going to be tried for conspiracy to commit kidnapping anyway.

kidnappers pic

The accusations against C.Z. were taking a toll on his wife. The sight of her husband behind bars was too much for her–she collapsed in the County Jail and had to be taken home.

While Pauline was getting over the initial shock of seeing C.Z. in jail, a Sheriff’s deputy had been attempting to serve Mary with a subpoena. Mary’s fame gave her privileges not enjoyed by mere mortals. The subpoena was supposed be delivered personally but the deputy was unable to get anywhere near the star. Finally, in frustration, he handed the summons to Mary’s secretary.  To ease judicial fears her attorney guaranteed her attendance in court if needed.

Mary Pickford conferring with defense attorney S.S. Hahn. [Photo courtesy of UCLA Digital Collection]

Mary Pickford conferring with defense attorney S.S. Hahn. [Photo courtesy of UCLA Digital Collection]

The trial was originally scheduled to be held in Department 17 in the Hall of Justice on Buena Vista Street, but it was deemed too small to accommodate the crowd that was expected to turn out to see Mary and Doug.  The trial was moved to the larger courtroom of Judge York on the eighth floor of the Hall of Records.

L.A. County Courthouse flanked by Hall of Records (L). [Photo courtesy of LAPL]

L.A. County Courthouse flanked by Hall of Records (L). [Photo courtesy of LAPL]

Attorneys on both sides began trying their cases in the press.  Some things never change.  S.S. Hahn told reporters that he had new evidence that he would reveal later, and the Deputy District Attorney announced that he was ready to unequivocally prove the State’s case.

Glen G. Gravatt, a police department stenographer and secretary to Chief of Detectives Home, was the first to take the stand. He read from notes he had taken while he was listening through a physician’s stethoscope under the door of the room in the Hayward Hotel where the conspirators were meeting. With the stethoscope he was able to eavesdrop on Stevens, Holcomb, Woods and another possible conspirator, Louis Geck (aka “Louis the Spider”), and he got an earful.

As Gravatt continued to listen and take notes Geck asked Claude “Fat” Holcomb what he’d do if Mary Pickford “…picked up a big .45″. Holcomb replied: “I’d have to shoot her just like anybody else, that’s all.”

In an effort to speed up the trial the defense attorneys agreed to combine their efforts and offer the same defense for each of the men simultaneously. The attorneys also agreed to divvy up the responsibilities: S.S. Hahn would conduct all the direct examinations, Public Defender Aggeler would handle the cross-examinations and John A. Holland would prepare the rebuttal.

Defense attorneys Vercoe, Holland, Hahn and Aggeler [Photo courtesy of UCLA Digital Collection]

Defense attorneys Vercoe, Holland, Hahn and Aggeler [Photo courtesy of UCLA Digital Collection]

The defense made a motion to acquit the defendants based on an interpretation of the laws governing conspiracy.  They argued that because no overt act had been committed the charges should be dropped and the men released. But the defense arguments didn’t pass muster and the trial went forward.

third degree

Failing to get the kidnapping charges dropped, S.S. Hahn then accused Detective Harry Raymond of beating confessions out of Stevens and Holcomb. Jurors leaned forward in their seats as Holcomb told his story:

“I was brought down to Chief Home’s office and Harry Raymond said to me, ‘Fat, we want a statement out of you and we want to get it free and voluntarily.'”

Holcomb continued:

“We went there (the movie studio) with Louie (aka The Spider) to see a friend of his about a job.  Then he (Raymond) struck me in the nose. I threw up my hand to protect my face and Mayer stopped me.  Mayer then took me to the wash bowl and washed the blood from my face and coat by using water and paper.  The George Home came in.  He looked at Raymond and smiled.  Then he went out and bought me some cigarettes.”Holcomb said that he had made and signed his confession because he was beaten up and because he was afraid that Raymond would “stomp the hell out of me every day until I did.”

Was there any truth to Holcomb’s accusations?  It’s difficult to say. During the 1920s it would not have been unheard of for a detective to smack a suspect around to gain a confession; but unfortunately for Holcomb and the others it was incumbent upon the defense to prove that the beatings had actually occurred–which they failed to do.

NEXT TIME:  Mary and Doug in court and the outcome of the trial.

Death on the Driver’s Side

It was about 2:30 a.m. on February 1, 1931, when Julia Tapia met Manuel Quintanna at Alfonso’s Cafe at Temple and Figueroa Streets in Los Angeles. They wouldn’t know each other for very long.

Twenty-four year old Julia had been out with a few girlfriends night clubbing and drinking before the group stopped in at Alfonso’s for a bite to eat. Prohibition didn’t keep anyone from a bottle of booze who wanted one, and there were dozens of speakeasies in L.A. where a drink could be found. Julia had gone to the cafe to fortify herself, and maybe sober up a bit, before leaving on a quick trip north to Tehachapi (where the women’s prison was under construction). A friend of hers, Harvey Hicks, had missed the train back to his home and Julia had told him that she would drive him there. She didn’t relish the idea of making the return trip on her own, and she later said that the girlfriends she’d been out with were “family girls” and wouldn’t have wanted to take an overnight trip.

Julia didn’t scoff at the family girls, but she knew she wasn’t one herself. She was married, but her husband had gone to Mexico five months earlier and he appeared to have no plans to return. She’d also been vagged (a vagrancy charge, usually prostitution) a couple of times in recent months and had done ten days in county jail rather than shell out $50 for the fine.

Woman driver c. 1930s

Woman driver c. 1930s

She was scanning the cafe for another girl, not the family type, who would be willing to accompany her on the Tehachapi jaunt when she spotted Adeline Ortega. Julia and Adeline weren’t close, but they’d seen each other around and had chatted before at Alfonso’s. Adeline had also been vagged, and was easily persuaded to make an overnight roundtrip to Tehachapi. Adeline had only one request; that her friend Manuel Quintanna be allowed to join them. Julia didn’t object; what the hell, the more the merrier. Four young people in a car, a pint and a half of illegal hootch, and a few hours on a dark highway – it would be a miracle if trouble didn’t find them. Miracles had never happened to Julia.

The trip to Tehachapi was uneventful.  They had taken Harvey to the home of a friend of his and spent about thirty minutes passing a bottle of whiskey around. When it was time to leave, Manuel Quintanna said he was tired and wanted to lie down on the back seat of Julia’s car. Manuel stretched out on the back seat and nodded off, while Julia drove and Adeline kept her company.  It wasn’t too long before Adeline began to get sleepy and switched places with Manuel.

Manuel behaved himself for a quite a while before he began to make a nuisance of himself. He pestered Julia to let him drive her car. She refused. The two had words and Manuel tried to throw the car out of gear and grab the steering wheel.  Julia was accustomed to dealing with men who’d had a few drinks and then felt that they were entitled to push her around. She wasn’t going to stand for it; she told Manuel to cut the crap or she would put him out on the highway. Manuel got belligerent and said he’d get out of the car willingly. Good riddance.

CHEV6_RESIZEJulia drove her car, a 1930 Chevrolet, slowly down the road. She was more of a soft touch than she seemed, and she really didn’t want to leave Quintanna on the side of the road, not if he’d promise to behave. Minutes after Manuel had left her car, Julia saw a light colored Ford or Chevy, with three guys in it, pick-up Manuel.  The car caught up with Julia and Adeline (who was still asleep in the back). When the car pulled up alongside Julia, Manuel shouted to her that he’d left his overcoat and hat behind and he wanted to retrieve them. She reached over to the passenger’s side and grabbed Quintanna’s belongings, which she tossed at him.

juliaManuel was pissed that Julia had thrown his coat and hat at him, and he managed to jump onto the running board of Julia’s car. He was on her side of the car and he shouted abuse at her, reached over and pulled her hair, and then smacked her hard on the jaw. At that point I’d have been tempted to shoot him – Julia gave in to temptation. She later told cops that she’d noticed that Harvey Hicks had left his .38 revolver stuck in the seat cushions. She grabbed the weapon and shot Manuel about one and a half inches above his heart. He dropped to the pavement.

Julia braked the car to a stop and ran over to Manuel who was lying in a pool of blood, wheezing.  He was about two heartbeats away from death. She dragged him to the side of the road. The car that Manuel had hitched a ride on sped off into the night, just as another car with three men in it pulled up to see what was going on. In the car were Dean Markham and his buddies, Joe Frigon, and Bob Tittle.  The trio had been rabbit hunting in Mojave, and they were headed back to L.A.  Markham got out of the car and walked over to speak with Julia. On his way over to talk to the distraught woman he noticed a pool of dark colored liquid on the pavement. He stepped wide; he didn’t think it was water.

The car that the rabbit hunters had been riding in was overheating so they took Julia’s car to go and fetch help in the relatively nearby town of Lancaster.  They arrived at a hotel in Lancaster, and explained to the clerk that they needed a cop. The hotel clerk pointed to a pool hall down the street and told them they’d likely find an officer there.  Markham, Frigon, and Tittle found the officer and gave him a brief summary of the situation they’d left behind.

The good samaratins piled back into Julia’s car and returned to the scene. They could hear the wailing of the siren on the police car ahead of them on the highway.

During the time that Markham and his pals had been gone, Manuel Quintanna had died.

Markham, his friends, and the constable pulled up to the scene of the crime only to discover that there wasn’t much for them to do. Julia and Adeline were standing in the road looking shell-shocked. It was no wonder.  The local undertaker had beaten the cop to the scene, loaded Quintanna’s body into his hearse and driven away.

In the days following Manuel’s death his business partner asked about the $350 that Manuel had been carrying. He was supposed to have made a deposit. The morgue property slip listed the dead man’s belongings, but there was no mention of any $350. In fact, no one could explain what had happened to the money. Nobody who had been at the scene of Quintanna’s death claimed knowledge of the money at all. It was as if it had never existed.

headline

Julia Tapia was indicted for the murder of Manuel Quintanna, and on April 27, 1931 the case was called for trial in Department 27 of Superior Court; Judge Walton J. Wood presiding, Deputy District Attorney Barnes representing the People, and S.S. Hahn representing the defendant. Because the Deputy D.A. who had prepared the case against Tapia was unavailable, Barnes requested a continuance. Judge Wood denied the motion and ordered Barnes to proceed with the trial. Which he did.

Strangely, just prior to the case being submitted to the jury, Deputy D.A. Barnes made a motion for dismissal on the grounds of insufficient evidence! Tapia’s attorney, S.S. Hahn, objected and requested that the judge instruct the jury to return a verdict of not guilty. The motion was granted.

tehachapi_style

Fashion at the Women’s Prison in Tehachapi.

Julia Tapia was freed. The missing $350 was never found.

I don’t know if Aggie reported on this story or not, but it is just the sort of crime story she would cover many times over the years. Aggie would become well acquainted with the women’s prison at Tehachapi. She would get to know many of the staff and inmates, and in the mid-1930s she would write a series of articles for the Herald-Express describing what it was like to be a woman doing time. There will be more on Aggie and Tehachapi in future posts.

NOTE:  Many thanks to Mike F. who knew I’d love a story which involved a bad girl, a car with a running board, and the opportunity to expand my vocabulary to include the term “vagged”.