Winnie Ruth Judd

Winnie Ruth Judd, the quiet preacher's daughter and doctor's wife who became known around the world in the 1930s as the Trunk Murderess, died in her sleep Friday in Phoenix. She was 93. Judd was convicted of murder in the 1931 shooting deaths of two young female friends in their Phoenix duplex. She accompanied the two bodies by train to Los Angeles, after chopping one up so most of it would fit in a trunk. The parts that didn't fit she carried in her suitcase.

Winnie Ruth Judd, the quiet preacher's daughter and doctor's wife who became known around the world in the 1930s as the Trunk Murderess, died in her sleep Friday in Phoenix. She was 93. Judd was convicted of murder in the 1931 shooting deaths of two young female friends in their Phoenix duplex. She accompanied the two bodies by train to Los Angeles, after chopping one up so most of it would fit in a trunk. The parts that didn't fit she carried in her suitcase.

The precipitating incidence for this book (and reams of other journalistic efforts down through the years) is this: In October, 1931, in Phoenix, a young woman named Winnie Ruth Judd did or did not kill two other women, Anne Le Roi and "Sammy" Samuelson. The killings were nothing much in the larger scheme of things, but a day or two later, a very nervous Winnie Ruth took the train to Los Angeles with two large trunks which gave off a ghastly, suggestive smell.

In the sensation-hungry headlines of the Depression, Winnie Ruth Judd was a star, the apex of a triangle of love, adultery and murder, remembered as the "trunk murderess" who killed her best friends, then shipped their bodies to Union Station, where dismembered parts were discovered by railroad officials who had thought Judd was smuggling contraband venison. Even among the scandalous crimes of 1930s Los Angeles, the saga of Judd--a tiny, sweet-faced young woman with red hair and enigmatic blue eyes, a woman whose crimes, conviction and escapes would command headlines for 40 years--was remarkable, in part because her guilt is still being debated.

In the sensation-hungry headlines of the Depression, Winnie Ruth Judd was a star, the apex of a triangle of love, adultery and murder, remembered as the "trunk murderess" who killed her best friends, then shipped their bodies to Union Station, where dismembered parts were discovered by railroad officials who had thought Judd was smuggling contraband venison.

Murderer Winnie Ruth Judd wasn't too bright. She shipped the dismembered bodies of her two victims from Phoenix to Los Angeles by train, in two trunks and a carpet bag. The cops were waiting. "Tiger Lady," at the Tamarind Theatre, re-creates her true story. In Layce Gardner's tightly constructed chronicle play, most of the tale takes place in Winnie's mind, or at least the part of her mind she allows psychiatrist Elijah Martin to visit.

This year presented a challenge in picking the best of crime fiction, as perennial favorites and talented newcomers delivered a plethora of well-seasoned goods. But prolonged teeth-gnashing has produced the list of those I consider to be the most notable mystery and thriller reads. George Dawes Green makes a triumphant return to the genre after a 14-year absence with "Ravens" (Grand Central: 336 pp., $24.99). Terror is to be expected when desperate out-of-towners hatch a plan to bilk half the lottery winnings of a rural Georgia family, but Green, already a master of psychological twists, mixes in sly social commentary on religion and the downward economic spiral.

Sorry I missed the recent One Hundred Urns auction in Long Beach, because it sounded like the hottest art show to hit Southern California in days, if not months. While painters drew and painted models in the Space Gallery, spectators were invited to bid on the works. Art pieces that did not draw an offer of at least $15 were destroyed in a controlled burn outside the gallery, with the ashes sealed in urns.

The precipitating incidence for this book (and reams of other journalistic efforts down through the years) is this: In October, 1931, in Phoenix, a young woman named Winnie Ruth Judd did or did not kill two other women, Anne Le Roi and "Sammy" Samuelson. The killings were nothing much in the larger scheme of things, but a day or two later, a very nervous Winnie Ruth took the train to Los Angeles with two large trunks which gave off a ghastly, suggestive smell.

By 1936, Angelenos had already seen their fair share of captivating criminal acts such as the Tiger Woman and Winnie Ruth Judd--monstrous murderers who kept the public enthralled. Yet few held the sinister intrigue of Rattlesnake James, who earned his living and his nickname by marrying, insuring and murdering women. His real name was Major Raymond Lisemba, but he called himself Robert S. James.