"On February 1, 1922, William Desmond Taylor was enjoying a rich, full life. In that silent film era, he was one of Hollywood's most successful and respected directors. He had directed such acting greats as Mary Pickford, Dustin Farnum, Wallace Reid and Mary Miles Minter. His notable films included Davy Crockett, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. He had recently directed The Green Temptation starring Bett Compson and Anne of the Green Gables. Both motion pictures had been well received (perhaps green was a lucky color for him) so he could look forward to directing many more movies.

The director resided in a California neighborhood called West Lake Park, at the time a fashionable area. His home was in Alvarado Court, a collection of bungalows grouped in a U-shape around an elaborately landscaped garden. Each house was built in a Spanish style with white stucco and red tiled roofs. The occupants of Alvarado Court tended to be people in the movie business. Another director, Charles Maigne, lived next door to Taylor. Acclaimed screen actors Agnes Ayres, Douglas MacLean and Edna Purviance also lived in Alvarado Court.

Taylor's life was not entirely charmed. Earlier that year, his valet had defrauded and stole from him. Taylor had been in England when plump Edward Sands, the director's cook, valet and secretary, wrecked Taylor's car, forged checks for over $5,000, and stole jewels and clothes from his employer. Sands was not caught. He appeared to have simply vanished before the director returned to America.

Taylor's replacement valet and cook, Henry Peavey, had gotten into some trouble unconnected with his job. Peavey had been arrested for vagrancy and indecent exposure, charges often made against homosexuals cruising for partners in those days. Taylor had put up bail for his beleaguered servant. The director had also promised the court that he would appear on Peavey's behalf on February

Taylor was close to the actress Mabel Normand and, for good reason, deeply concerned about her. In some accounts of the case, Taylor and Normand were in love. In others, they were close friends who shared books and laughs. In either case, Normand, like so many people in Hollywood in the post-World War I era, had experimented with mood altering drugs. She became addicted, and Taylor wanted to help her kick the habit.

Normand visited Taylor that day, February 1, to pick up a book on German philosophy. She left Taylor's home at about 7:45 p.m. The director walked her to her car where he teased her about having a copy of the Police Gazette in the vehicle, a lowbrow magazine considered racy in its day. The philosophy book and the cheap, raunchy magazine certainly made for eclectic reading. Normand blew kisses at Taylor as he waved goodbye.

Shortly after, at about 8 p.m., Taylor was shot in the back inside his home. A single bullet killed him. Many people believe his killer slipped through the door that he had left open while he saw Normand off. The assassin likely waited for the director to return to the house, then ended his life with a single shot.

In the bungalow directly to the east of Taylor's, Faith MacLean, wife of actor Douglas MacLean who had appeared in films directed by Taylor, was seated at her table and enjoying the last course of her evening meal. Her husband had finished his dinner and was upstairs playing cribbage. Suddenly she was startled by a sudden, explosive noise.
Faith looked outside in the direction of the sound. A stranger, who appeared to be a man in his late 20s, came onto the lighted doorway and their eyes met in the early evening's darkness.

The man calmly turned around and went back into Taylor's house. A few minutes later he emerged and strolled out of the courtyard through the area between the MacLean and Taylor homes. Reassured by the stranger's unhurried manner, MacLean assumed she had heard a car backfire and thought no more of it--until the next morning.

At about 7:30 a.m. on February 2, Henry Peavey arrived at Taylor's home to fix the director's breakfast. He was carrying a bottle of milk of magnesia that his employer had requested. The valet bent down to pick up the morning newspaper from the doorstep. He had a key, and when he opened the door, let loose a blood-curdling scream.
The fully clothed body of William Desmond Taylor lay on his living room floor. A chair was astride one of his legs. It was later discovered that his pockets held a wallet with $78 in it, a silver cigarette case, an ivory toothpick, and a Waltham pocket watch. A two-carat diamond ring was on his finger. Above his hand he wore an item that had just come into vogue: a wristwatch.

A crowd gathered, and someone phoned the police. But some people got there before the police did."

SOURCE: Denise Noe, Court TV's "Crime Library."

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