As she rides by

Jonathan E. Flint, (address given) were, at 11:10 p.m., in 2-DR. BMW on Sunday, March 14, 1989, returning from the Alameda Theater to the Western Music, Inc., recording studio (address given), to allow Mr. Flint to retrieve his vehicle, which had been left there, and for Mrs. Jones to drive her husband home (address given) as his vehicle was in the garage for repairs.
    At the juncture of 8th St. and Berendo, while stopped for a 4-way stop sign, an as yet unidentified male, black, approx. height 6 ft., approx. age 25—30, wearing black/dark windbreaker, black/dark woolly top, wraparound shades, on a motorcycle, inserted arm in open car window and held handgun against Mr. Flint’s head, demanding Mrs. Jones’s purse, watch, and necklace, then Mr. Flint’s wallet, ring, and watch. All were duly handed over.
    Then, apparently, Mr. Flint made either a threatening gesture or derogatory comment (or both). One shot was fired. (Details of angle of entry, precise ultimate location of bullet in medulla oblongata, or pathologist’s report in full, on request.) Death occurred almost instantly. Perpetrator then slashed Mrs. Jones on right temple, told her not to move for five minutes, gunned his hog, turned left on Berendo, and disappeared from view. Mrs. Jones subsequently discovered, in shock, by Ptrlmn. T. Tasely and Sgt. Brav of LAPD vehicle Fox Victor Fox, at 11:27 p.m. responding to anon, phone call received 11:22 p.m., seated in dazed condition on curb.
    There followed a whole mess of additional reports and records of subsequent interviews, in fact there were so many bits and pieces in all that I thought briefly but seriously of upping Sneezy’s fee another fifty bucks. Some extracts thereof: A note from ballistics stated that the bullet had been probably fired from a homemade handgun—i.e., a zip gun, of all the old-fashioned things.
    Note: Say, kids! Want to make your very own genuine old-fashioned zip gun some rainy afternoon? Using only a bit of car antenna, easily stolen from your neighborhood scrap dealer, a clothespin spring, and a couple of other easily obtainable household items? Minimal skill required! If you can use a hacksaw, you can hack this one easy, kids. Will fire a standard .22 Long or .22 Short. Results guaranteed! Just send me the once-in-a-lifetime low, low price of $10, and I’ll rush the plans to you by return mail. Be warned—if you are under sixteen years of age, U.S. Federal Law requires the signature of a parent, guardian, or parole officer on your application.
    Apropos of the above, I hate to see the old skills die out, don’t you, old-timers? That hard-won lore that was once so proudly passed on from generation to generation? What kid today knows how to make a stink bomb, or a bomb from an empty Prince Albert tobacco tin and the heads of a large box of wooden matches? And, speaking of matches, with a penknife and a wooden clothespin, in five minutes you can make a little gun that not only shoots them at your brother, but lights them first. Yes, the old arts are dying, dying... opening a car door with a coat hanger... opening vending machines without a key... hot-wiring... boosting records... how to shoplift small items without risk... the soft drink scam... how to make money from those opera glasses many large theaters have for temporary rental... the proper price to charge another kid for letting him sneak in the emergency door of a movie house... the screen door technique... three funny and one dangerous thing to do with a Coke bottle... bubble-gumming Ma Bell... Enow! I must cry enow before tears begin to trickle down a couple of well-worn furrows in a pair of equally well-worn cheeks.
    Back to business. Also from Sneezy: From Sergeant Brav’s report, the information that Mrs. Jones was treated for shock and possible concussion and had her wound treated by the doc on duty at the Marsden Hospital Emergency, 11:52 p.m., then returned to studio, 12:24 a.m. Present in studio—4 members of a group called “Meal Ticket” (names and addresses given), one technician (ditto), and Mr. L. R. Jones, all of whom appeared to have been on or about the premises continually since 7:20 p.m. Also from Sergeant Brav: the subsequent statement from Mrs. Jonathan E. (Deborah) Flint (nee Smith) given at her home, in which she denied knowledge of any possible business worry Mr. Flint might have had, denied knowledge of any enemies he might have had, and denied there had been any marital discord between