On Friday, March 26, 1920, Los Angeles police responded to a call at 681 South Bonnie Brae Avenue. A woman had been found dead, and was believed to have been murdered.

When the police entered the apartment, they found the body of 27-year-old Ruby Reed, half dressed in tattered silky pajamas. It was immediately apparent that she had indeed been murdered.

There was no trace of the man who had put an end to Ruby Reed’s life. But that a man had been there and committed a violent atrocity was not in doubt. The little apartment had been the scene of a violent struggle. Letters, books, clothing, and phonograph records littered the floor, along with bottles and glasses and articles of clothing.

The phonograph was open and the record Love’s Old Sweet Song was just where it had been on the night of the murder. The phonograph had run down, and needle was still on the wax where it had stopped playing. The police fingerprinted the record’s surface, hoping perhaps the killer had touched the album.

Ruby had been garroted with a silk chemise, which still lay on her body. Black and blue finger-shaped bruises were visible on her neck, which was broken. A man’s bloody handkerchief was stuffed in her mouth. The police thought she had been dead at least two full days–they later determined she died around midnight on March 23.

They reconstructed the scene.

Ruby Reed had a man over.

They were drinking and decided to dance.

“Just a song at twilight. when the lights are low…”

“And the flickering shadows, softly come and go”

“And the heart grows weary, sad the day and long”

But as the song played on, the killer, for reasons unknown,  grasped Ruby’s neck violently, The girl struggled and fought with him. He grew enraged. He ripped her pajamas and shoved a bloody handkerchief into her mouth. Then he seized a chemise that was lying nearby and strangled her with it. As he did, Ruby, with her last ounce of strength, grabbed his hair. Two strands were found clutched in her cold dead fingers. The murderer then struck the girl such a heavy blow that it broke her neck.

The killer spent some time in the apartment after committing the murder. Then he  slipped away into the night, undetected.

The only person who was there to greet the police was Miss Myra Peet. She was a friend of Ruby’s—had known her about eight years, she said. She had been trying to reach her friend for days and finally appeared at her home to check on her. The landlady let her in and they found the place “in the wildest confusion—chairs overturned. glasses and bottles everywhere, the dead girl lying beside the bed.”

While Miss Peet was able to give some valuable details about the victim to the police, newspapers decided that Ruby Gertrude Reed was essentially a woman of mystery.

The police learned from Myra that Ruby was a grass widow—slang for a divorced woman. She had married a man named George Reed in Leavenworth, Kansas years ago when she was just a girl. They had moved to Los Angeles and obtained a divorce in San Francisco in 1915. Miss Peet said she thought Mrs. Reed had not heard from her ex-husband in more than a year, though he still lived in the city. At times, Ruby used the aliases Mrs. R. Norby and Mrs. W.B. McDonald.

Miss Peet’s info about Ruby was helpful, but police were more interested in what she could tell them about potential suspects.

Next: The Suspects