by James Ellroy
Norma was nine years older than Geneva. She was the most beautiful woman in Tomah. Geneva was the most beautiful girl. Norma was married to “Pete” Pedersen. Pete owned the Tomah drugstore. He was 15 years older than Norma. He built her a beauty salon. Norma ran it as a lark. Norma and Pete had money. They gave Earle and Jessie handouts. Norma was a local cause célèbre. She allegedly had an affair with a Methodist minister. He allegedly left Tomah and committed suicide. Norma and Geneva acted like sisters or best friends. They didn’t act like aunt and niece. They were thick as thieves.
Geneva was a poised young woman now. She went to town dances. Earle came down from Bowler and played chaperone. He did not like other men snouting around his daughter.
Geneva graduated high school in June ’34. She wanted to be a registered nurse. She picked out a nursing school near Chicago. Norma said she’d pay her tuition and all her expenses. Geneva applied at West Suburban College. She was accepted. She left her mother and kid sister in Tomah. She left her drunken father in Bowler. She came back for brief visits only.
She moved to Oak Park, Illinois. She shortened her name to Jean. She got a room at the West Suburban dorm. She bunked with a girl named Mary Evans. They shared a room for six months. They moved to adjoining rooms and shared a bathroom for two years. They became close friends. Mary had a doctor lover. Jean liked Mary’s wild side. Mary liked Jean’s wild side. Jean dated boys and stayed out after curfew. It was like she blew off small-town life and went a little crazy. Mary and Jean worked a curfew dodge. They messed with the lock on their fire escape ladder. They could ditch the dorm and sneak back unseen. Mary could see her doctor. Jean could meet men and cut loose. Jean was quiet and reserved most of the time. She liked to read. She liked to sit around and daydream. Jean had a different side. Mary watched it develop. It was Jean with her blinders off. Jean started to drink quite a bit. Jean was always drinking. Jean went out drinking and came back after curfew. She sat on the toilet and peed for a dog’s age. She came back one night and commandeered the toilet. She lit a cigarette and dropped the match in. A wad of toilet paper ignited and singed her behind. Jean laughed and laughed.
Jean liked to brood. Jean held her own counsel. She never mentioned her parents. Her aunt Norma visited her. Her parents never did. Mary thought it was strange. Jean liked older people. She liked older men. She liked older women as friends. Jean became close friends with a nurse named Jean Atchison. Jean Atchison was ten years older than Jean. Jean Atchison did not date men. Jean Atchison was completely absorbed in Jean Hilliker. She followed her around. Everybody talked about it. Everybody thought they were lesbian lovers. Mary thought Jean Atchison was a lesbo. Jean Hilliker liked men too much to be lez.
Jean fell in love with a man named Dan Coffey. Dan was 25. Jean was 20. Dan was a diabetic and a far-gone drunk. Jean worried about him. She drank with him most nights. She saw him every night for a solid year and a half. Jean confided to Mary. Jean said she drank too much.
Jean knew how to balance things. She was a good nursing student. She learned quickly. She was dutiful and kind to her patients. She could stay out late and perform the next day. Jean was competent and capable and deliberate.
Dan Coffey left her. Jean took it bad. She brooded and chased men. She liked rough boys. Some of them looked like gangsters or hoodlum riffraff.
Jean graduated in May ’37. She was now a registered nurse. She got a full-time job at West Suburban. She moved out of the dorm. Jean Atchison found an apartment in Oak Park. She asked Jean and Mary Evans to move in with her. Mary had her own bedroom. Jean shared a bedroom with Jean Atchison. They slept in the same bed.
Mary’s boyfriend got Jean a watchdog gig. She had to drive two elderly drunks to New York City. The wife was dying of cancer. Her husband wanted to take her to Europe before she checked out. Jean was supposed to keep them sober and transport them to the boat.
The job was a pain in the ass. The drunks wandered off at rest stops. Jean found bottles in their luggage and emptied them. The drunks scrounged up more liquor. Jean capitulated. She encouraged them to pass out and let her drive in peace. She reached Manhattan. She dumped the drunks at the dock. The husband said he had a hotel suite booked in his name. She could rest up there before she drove back to Chicago.
Jean found the hotel and checked in. She met an artist there. He drew a charcoal sketch of Jean in the nude. They had a few wild days together. Jean called Jean Atchison and Mary Evans and told them to come to the Apple. They could stay in her suite until somebody kicked them out. Jean Atchison and Mary rounded up another nurse named Nancy Kirkland. Nancy had a car. They drove to New York and raised hell with Jean. They parried for four or five days.
The girls went back to Chicago. Mary moved out of the apartment. Her boyfriend set her up in her own place. Jean Atchison saw an ad for a glamour contest. It was sponsored by Elmo Beauty Products. They wanted to find four women. They wanted to crown them the “Most Charming” Blonde, Brunette, Grayhead and Redhead. They wanted to fete them and send them to Hollywood. Jean Atchison sent in an application and a picture of Jean Hilliker. She didn’t tell Jean. She knew Jean wouldn’t approve.
Jean won the contest. She was now America’s Most Charming Redhead. She got mad at Jean Atchison. Her anger subsided. She flew to L.A. on 12/12/38. She met the other Most Charming ladies. They spent a week in L.A. They stayed at the Ambassador Hotel. They got $1,000 apiece. They saw the sights. Talent scouts perused them. Jean took a screen test. The Tomah paper ran a piece on the Most Charming Redhead. She was “a quiet, unassuming and very attractive young lady.”
Jean returned to Chicago. The trip was fun. She made some money. She liked California. The screen test was fun and no more. She didn’t want to be a movie star.
It was 1939. Jean turned 24 in April. Aunt Norma ditched her husband. She took up with another local pastor. They left Tomah forever. Norma lost track of Jean. They never saw each other again. Jean lost track of Mary Evans. They never saw each other again. Leoda Hilliker married Ed Wagner on 6/7/39. Jean attended the wedding in Madison, Wisconsin. Jean had a lover or lovers then. She got pregnant. She called Mary’s boyfriend and asked him to abort her. He refused. Jean aborted herself. She killed the fetus and hemorrhaged. She called Mary’s boyfriend. He treated her. He did not report the abortion.
Jean moved to Los Angeles. She might have met the Spalding man there. They were married somewhere. It wasn’t Chicago. It wasn’t in L.A. County, Orange County, San Diego County, Ventura County, Las Vegas or Reno. Bill Stoner checked marriage records in all those locations. Janet Klock found some old notes. They pertained to the split-rail-fence portraits. My mother wrote the notes. She said the pictures were taken near Mount Charleston, Nevada. My mother alluded to “we.” She wore a wedding ring. They looked like honeymoon photos. The Hilliker-Spalding marriage could not be verified. Leoda never met the Spalding man. Jean’s friends never met the Spalding man. Nobody knew his first name. Two men qualified as heirs to the Spalding sporting goods fortune. One man died in World War I. The surviving son was named Keith Spalding. Bill Stoner could not link him to my mother. She might have married him. She might have married a Spalding with no blood ties to the Spaldings. The marriage was brief. Five witnesses confirmed that fact or rumor. Bill found a Geneva Spalding in the ’39 L.A. directory. Her occupation was listed as “Maid.” Her address was 852 Bedford in West Los Angeles. The ’39 directories came out in ’40. She had time to marry and divorce Mr. Spalding. She had time to find work and an apartment of her own.
Earle Hilliker died in 1940. He checked out behind pneumonia. Jean Hilliker was listed in the ’41 L.A. book. She was a stenographer. She lived at 854 South Harvard. She’d moved east to the Wilshire District. She was probably working toward her nurse’s certification.
And a rendezvous with my father.
My father moved to San Diego after World War I. He told me that. He was a liar. All his statements were suspect. Bill Stoner checked old San Diego directories. He foun
d my father in the ’26 book. He was listed as a deputy county auditor. He held the job through 1929. He was a salesman in ’30. He managed a hotel in ’31. He worked at the U.S. Grant Hotel for the next four years. He was a house detective and an assistant auditor. He changed jobs in ’35. He became a salesman. He worked for A.M. Fidelity. He wasn’t listed in the ’36 or ’37 book. He was listed in the ’37 L.A. directory. His occupation was not listed. He lived at 2819 Leeward. He was listed at the same address in ’38 and ’39. 2819 Leeward was Central L.A. It was four miles east of Geneva Spalding’s ’39 address. The ’40 book listed my father at 2845 West 27th. The ’41 book listed him at 408 South Burlington. The address was a mile and a half from Jean Hilliker’s ’41 address.
My father married a woman in San Diego. The date was 12/22/34. Her name was Mildred Jean Feese. She came from Nebraska. My father “willfully deserted” her on 6/5/41. She filed for divorce on 9/11/44. She said my father treated her in a “cruel and inhuman manner, which caused this plaintifif grievous mental suffering and distress, resulting in her becoming extremely nervous, suffering physical anguish, and becoming physically ill.”
My father received a court summons. He did not appear in court. A default decree was filed on 11/20/44. The divorce was finalized on 11/27/45. The marriage produced no children. The final decree did not mention alimony payments.
My father was listed in the ’41 book. He deserted his wife on 6/5/41. Mildred Jean Ellroy was listed in the ’42 book. She lived at 6901/2 South Catalina. Jean Hilliker was listed in the ’42 book. She was listed as a nurse. She lived at 5481/4 South New Hampshire. It was three blocks from 6901/2 South Catalina. My father said he lived with my mother at 8th and New Hampshire. He said they lived there when Pearl Harbor was bombed. His memory was spotty. They lived three blocks north at 5th and New Hampshire.
Bill and I reconstructed the probable events.
My father met the redhead in 1941. He met her in LA. He deserted his wife. He moved in with Jean Hilliker. He ran from a woman. He ran to a woman. The jilted woman gave up the pad she shared with him. She moved to a pad three blocks away from her husband’s love nest. The move was coincidental or spitefully planned.
Maybe she stalked my father.
Maybe she moved three blocks away to punish herself.
Maybe she moved there to see the redhead and gloat. She knew what my father was. She knew what the redhead had coming.
There were no L.A. directories issued for the rest of the war. The ’46 and ’47 books were missing. The Beverly Hills books were missing. We couldn’t nail the move to 459 North Doheny.
They shacked up somewhere. The Spalding divorce was finalized in ’39 or ’40. My father’s divorce was finalized in late ’45. They were free to marry then.
They were married in Ventura County. The date was 8/29/47. My mother was 32. She was two and a half months pregnant. The marriage license listed a common address. It was 459 North Doheny. The license stated that this was the second marriage for both parties.
I was born in March ’48. Jessie Hilliker died in ’50. She had a stroke and keeled over. My parents moved to 9031 Alden Drive. The marriage went bad. My mother filed for divorce on 1/3/55.
She cited “extreme cruelty.” She listed her joint property as furniture and a car. She stated her desire to be my full-time parent.
My father accepted her terms. He signed a property settlement on 2/3/55. She got the car and the furniture. She got me for my school months and part of the summer. He got two weekly visits and some summer time with me. He had to pay her lawyer’s bill and $50 a month child support.
A hearing was held on 2/28/55. My father was summoned. He did not appear. My mother’s lawyer filed a default motion. My father told me she was fucking her lawyer.
The default decree was granted on 3/30/55. It was interlocutory. The divorce would be finalized a year later. My mother filed a nuisance claim against my father. The claim summoned him to court on 1/11/56. The claim laid out her specific charges.
She said my father brought me home Thanksgiving night. He stood outside the front door. He eavesdropped. He broke into the apartment on 11/27/55. He went through her clothes and her bureau drawers. He cornered her at the Ralph’s Market at 3rd and San Vicente. He yelled insults at her as she shopped. The incident occurred in late November ’55.
My father got a lawyer. He wrote up a brief and countered my mother’s claim. He said my mother’s mode of life was inimical to my moral and social development. My father feared for my health and safety.
My parents saw a judge. He appointed a court assistant. He told her to investigate the charges.
She interviewed my father. He said Jean was a good mother five days a week. She drank two-thirds of a bottle of wine every night and “went berserk” on the weekends. He said she was a sex maniac. Her drinking went along with her sex mania. He said he didn’t eavesdrop that night. He brought his son back at 5:15. Jean answered the door. Her hair was mussed up. She had liquor on her breath. This Hank Hart guy was sitting at the kitchen table. He was in his undershirt. A bottle of champagne, three cans of beer, a bottle of wine and a fifth of whisky were out in plain sight.
He left the apartment. He decided to visit some friends in the neighborhood. He walked past the apartment again. He heard his son yelling. He heard some “other confusion.” He walked to the kitchen window and peered in. He saw his son walk into the bathroom and take a bath. He saw Jean and Hank Hart lie down on the living-room sofa. They started necking. Hart stuck his hand under Jean’s dress. His son walked into the living room. He was wearing pajamas. He watched TV. Hank Hart teased him. The boy went to bed. Hank Hart took off his trousers. Jean lifted her skirt. They had intercourse on the sofa.
My father said he went home. He called my mother. He asked her if she had no shame. Jean said she would do as she pleased. He didn’t browbeat Jean at Ralph’s Market. He brought his son home a few days after Thanksgiving. Jean wasn’t there. His son showed him how to enter the apartment. He opened some French windows. He entered the apartment. He did not look through Jean’s clothes or open her bureau drawers. He never called Jean filthy names. She phoned him and called him filthy names.
The investigator talked to Ethel Ings. She said Jean was an excellent mother. Jean paid her 75 cents an hour. She looked after Jean’s son. Jean never left her son home alone. He went to a Lutheran church every Sunday. Jean never raised her voice to him. She never used foul language.
The investigator talked to the principal of Children’s Paradise School. She said Jean was an excellent mother. The father pampered the boy and did not make him study. The father used the boy. He used him to get back at his mother. He called him every night and asked him questions about his mother. He told him to answer “yes” or “no” when his mother was nearby.
The investigator talked to Eula Lee Lloyd. She said Jean was an excellent mother. Mr. Ellroy was not a good father. She saw Mr. Ellroy several times recently. He was crouched outside Jean’s apartment. He was looking in the windows.
The investigator talked to my mother. She contradicted my father’s account of her actions. She denied his charges of sex mania and dipsomaniacal behavior. She said her ex-husband lied to her son repeatedly. He told him he owned a retail store in Norwalk. He told him he was buying a house with a swimming pool. He wanted to possess the boy entirely. Her ex-husband called her vile names. He did it in front of her son. Her ex-husband was a latent homosexual. She had medical proof.
The investigator sided with my mother. She cited my mother’s salutary work record. She said my mother seemed to possess a sound character. She did not act like a drunk or a slattern. The judge sided with my mother. He issued a formal decree. He told the plaintiff and the defendant not to annoy or harass each other. He told my father not to break into my mother’s apartment. He told him not to lurk and loiter outside it. He told him to pick me up and drop me off and stay the fuck away.
The decree was dated 2/29/56. My mother was two years
and four months away from Saturday Night. The notes and records catalogued her life in misalliance. I could label the investigation successful. I knew one thing past all doubt. I did not know who killed my mother. I knew how she came to King’s Row.
31
It wasn’t enough. It was a momentary pause and a spark point. I had to know more. I had to honor my debt and pursue my claim. My will to look and learn was still strong and still perversely attuned. I was my father crouched outside my mother’s bedroom window.
I didn’t want it to end. I wouldn’t let it end. I didn’t want to lose her again.
King’s Row was just a window facing backward. The Swarthy Man was just a witness with a few memories. I was a detective with no official sanction and no evidential rules to restrict me. I could take implication and rumor and hold them as fact. I could travel her life at my own mental speed. I could linger at Tunnel City and El Monte and all points in between. I could grow old in my search. I could fear my own death. I could relive her Sundays at that church by the railroad tracks. They preached heavenly reunions there. I could learn to believe. I could write off my search with a godly dispensation and await the time we lock eyes on a cloud.
It won’t happen. She walked away from that church. She went to that church at gunpoint. She sat in her pew and dreamed. I know her well enough to state that as fact. I know myself well enough to state that I will never stop looking.
I will not let this end. I will not betray her or abandon her again.
