The Black Dahlia fiasco
LAPD doctor enlists the Gangster Squad in an attempt to trap 'the best suspect we have ever had' in the unsolved killing. Their unorthodox tactics, however, backfire.
The Police Department psychiatrist wanted help catching the killer of the Black Dahlia but didn't want the help of homicide detectives who had been on the case since Jan. 15, 1947, when the body of 22-year-old Elizabeth Short was found in a vacant lot, cut in half. Dr. J. Paul de River told associates that the homicide crews were not adequately using his expertise on sex offenders, perverts with "abnormal appetites."
Homicide seemed to have its hands full anyway, monitoring the crazies drawn to the crime, 50 of whom confessed to killing the wannabe actress with the alluring nickname. By the waning days of 1948, approaching the second anniversary of the slaying, the Los Angeles Police Department psychiatrist didn't trust them to handle his hot new suspect.
De River had shared his views on the crime in popular detective magazines, and after one article he received a letter from a Florida man who identified himself as Jack Sands. This "Sands" was fascinated by sexual "psychopathia" and knew a lot about the case -- too much, De River thought. Plus he'd lived in California at the time, or so he said.
Chief C.B. Horrall was sold. And Jack O'Mara was told to forget about having a normal Christmas.
Dr. De River kept "Sands" on the hook with friendly letters and phone calls, then invited him to come West to continue the dialogue in person -- perhaps he'd serve as the doctor's assistant. When the man seemed leery of coming to Los Angeles, De River suggested they meet in Las Vegas and mailed him a plane ticket. "Sands" took off from Miami on Dec. 28, 1948.
The plan: O'Mara would pose as the doctor's chauffeur. He'd keep his ears open and his gun close. If leads emerged, others from the Gangster Squad would track them down.
The man who stepped from the airplane was a slender 6-footer. As he and De River began talking, he confided that his real name was Leslie Dillon -- and the backup teams got to work: He was 27 and a nomadic nobody. He'd held jobs as a hotel bellhop and in restaurants. He'd lived in San Francisco and near Los Angeles, in a trailer park on Pacific Coast Highway. He'd lost a lot of weight. He'd changed his hair color.
The squad eventually accumulated 4,000 pages on the man who Chief Horrall became convinced was "the best suspect we have ever had."
