Death of a Transvestite by Ed Wood Jr

Author:Ed Wood Jr [Wood, Ed Jr]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adult, crime, gay, media tie-in, prison, pulp
ISBN: 9781568581217
Google: fG2ukj2RTZIC
Amazon: 1568581211
Publisher: Da Capo Press
Published: 1967-02-15T03:59:48.701000+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

LA. POLICE INTERVIEW #1812 FILE – MARY KLAUS - SALESLADY

The Killer fitted the third pair of red, high heeled shoes to his feet under a speculative look from the shoe saleslady. He got up confidently and once more paraded in front of the full-length mirror as he had done twice previously. He lifted his trouser legs so as to better see the turn of his nylon-clad ankles, the only piece of feminity he wore except for the panties and brassiere under his outer male clothing.

After several long moments and steps in front of the mirror, he turned to the patient saleslady. "These will do fine," he said, then walked back to the fitting chair and sat down, where he calmly removed the shoes and handed them to the girl. At no time had he lost the seriousness of purpose, determination or features.

The girl gazed at her customer. Two things bothered her immediately. She wasn't quite sure if she should call him "Sir", or "Madam." And the shoes were $35.95. Her customer didn't look as though he could pay $5.95. However, she certainly didn't want to offend the customer. It had been a very bad week on Hollywood Boulevard for shoe sales. She needed every sale she could get.

As to watching a gaunt, not very good-looking man parading in front of her mirror wearing girls' shoes, well, when one had been in and around Hollywood as long as she had, the incident was nothing new. There had been a time when she was clerk in a ladies' clothing store and the boys would come in all the time and try on nearly everything she had in the store. And they were always good sales. Another thing she remembered: all of them without exception wore girls' panties. She couldn't help but wonder what color this guy was wearing. She figured him to be the sharp pink, or lavender type. Where he could show no beauty in his features, she visioned, he would try to show the beauty in the undergarments. But why red shoes? He certainly didn't appear to be the red shoe type; the red anything type. But that was none of her business. The sale was the most important thing, and it was apparent the sale was made.

The Killer paid her with a fifty dollar bill, and as she gave him the change, she said. "Come back again."

"I doubt it," he said as he fitted the shoebox under his skinny arm and left the shop.

WARDEN'S NOTE

The early evening air, cool with the coming of darkness, felt good against his face. He took several deep breaths, then hailed a taxi cab on the corner of Hollywood and Vine. His first thoughts were to get to his motel room and change. Pauline, in red, would make her debut to the Sunset Strip for the first time that night. It was certainly about time Glen should be showing up.

He'd had long enough to make the trip from Colorado. Too bad Glen hadn't gone to Chicago or New York.

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