The Butcher In The City of Angels: Volume One

By Stacey K. Smith

This is a murder mystery novel about a professional butcher that resides in the Los Angeles, California area. The time frame takes place in the 1960's, while the United States goes through some major changes in civil rights and the breakout of the Vietnam War, a psychopath serial killer murders citizens of the Los Angeles area with a butcher knife and a meat cleaver. A young police detective takes on the case with unwavering passion to catch "The Butcher in the City of Angels". Needless to say, it is a suspenseful journey of close calls as the death toll of victims rises with each full moon. This novel will have you on the edge of your seat as you wonder what will happen next. Will this crazed serial killer finally be arrested and brought to justice? Or will the terror continue to reign in the city of angels?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Release date: Mar 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9781977273376

Book preview

The Butcher in the City of Angels

Volume One

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2024 Stacey K. Smith

v1.0

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Outskirts Press, Inc.

http://www.outskirtspress.com

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024904319

Cover Photo © 2024 Stacey K. Smith. All rights reserved - used with permission.

Outskirts Press and the OP logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS

Preface

Introduction

Chapter 1: Growing Up

Chapter 2: Early Policing Years

Chapter 3: Summer of ’63

Chapter 4: Early in ’64

Chapter 5: The Happiest Place on Earth

Chapter 6: Twenty-sixth Birthday

Chapter 7: The Chocolate Bar

Chapter 8: Yankee Blues

Chapter 9: A Halloween Massacre

Chapter 10: Early in ’65

Chapter 11: The Narrow Prediction

Chapter 12: Another Tragic Halloween

Chapter 13: Early in ’66

Chapter 14: The Long Nightmare

Chapter 15: Judgment Day

Acknowledgments

Abbreviations/10 Codes

PREFACE

This novel was developed over careful consideration of writing a murder mystery. I know many people who enjoy watching murder mystery shows, such as the CSI shows. I wanted to target that type of adult audience and try to give them a masterpiece. In my opinion, the most gruesome murders are done with knives or other cutting objects. Knowing that, I came up with a serial killer character that is a professional butcher.

I wanted the story to be told in the second-person point of view. I chose the lead detective who is trying to solve the case to be the one telling the story. This helps put the reader in the detective’s shoes so they can experience the anguish that he goes through with dealing with these horrible homicides. I wanted to emphasize the importance of family support and overcoming difficult times. I got the idea of the location and time frame from one of my all-time favorite movies, L.A. Confidential (1997).

I used real-time events to go along with my fictional story to make it appear to be a real story. The United States was going through a transition period with the John F. Kennedy assassination, civil rights, landing on the moon, and the breakout of the Vietnam War. The more factual information in the novel, the more it makes the story seem real.

INTRODUCTION

This novel is a murder mystery novel in the horror genre. The story takes place in Los Angeles, mostly in the 1960s. A professional butcher turns into a psychotic serial killer and terrorizes the citizens of Los Angeles. The story is told by Los Angeles Police Department Detective II Jonathan M. Rubbick. He eventually becomes the lead detective into trying to solve the Butcher in the City of Angels case. This serial killer was also known as the Hollywood Butcher and the Night Slasher.

Detective II Rubbick goes through personal anguish and an unpleasant home life because of the nature of his work. The horrifying crime scenes of decapitated and dismembered bodies of the victims start to have a negative effect on him. Many twists and turns occur in this story that will have you at the edge of your seat. This novel is full of suspense and gruesome scenes that might not be appropriate for some readers.

The purpose of this story is to both entertain readers who enjoy mystery murder novels and provide awareness for domestic abuse and murderers. We should always be aware of our surroundings and be prepared to defend ourselves. It’s a good idea to obtain a concealed weapons permit as I’m a big defender of the Second Amendment. I believe in the right for one to protect themselves from evil people. This world is not perfect, and a lot of evil people inhabit it and want to do harm and the defenseless prey.

CHAPTER 1

Growing Up

My name is Jonathan M. Rubbick, also known as (a.k.a.) Detective II Rubbick. I’m a detective for the Los Angeles West Hollywood Precinct. I am going to tell you a story of how I lost my family and my sanity from tracking down one of the most notorious serial killers in American history. Like most serial killers, he was someone you would most likely never suspect of being such an evil person. The atrocities this man committed were so gruesome that any witnesses could never be the same. The man I’m referring to was known as the Butcher in the City of Angels, a.k.a. the Hollywood Butcher.

October 31, 1967, was the day the Butcher in the City of Angels committed his last horrific homicide. I wish I could say it was a joyful day bringing that man to justice, but it was an unforgettable day for his last victims. The house I raided that night was at 2903 Christmas Tree Lane on the outskirts of West Hollywood. The dismembered bodies of the entire family still linger in the back of my mind like a pinched nerve. Every so often I get a sharp pain, and that’s the reminder of the horror I saw that day and previous days. In my opinion, it’s a life sentence of hell but on earth.

Before I continue with the full story of the Butch in the City of Angels, let me tell you my story leading up to tracking down that serial killer. I was born on June 6, 1938, in Oceanside, California. My parents are Michael and Elizabeth Rubbick, who got married a few years before I was born, and I would be the only child. My father served in the United States Marine Corps from 1935 to 1955 and retired as a first sergeant with the First Marine Division. As you might expect, he was a disciplinarian and was extremely tough on me. My mother was a housewife and somehow managed to stay married to my father until he retired in 1955. She decided she took enough abuse and divorced my father in 1956.

My father became a functional alcoholic when he returned from fighting the Japanese in World War II. He was decorated with a Navy Cross, Bronze Star, and two Purple Hearts for his contributions in the Pacific. My mother said he was never the same man after returning home from war. He became an abusive drunk, and I became my mother’s protector. I learned to be the man of the house at a young age, as my father was often gone on deployment with the Marines. My father deployed often, and we moved often, but by the time my father retired from the Marine Corps, we ended up back in California where we started.

It was hard for me to make friends because of the moving and my role as the man of the house when my father was gone. I felt I was robbed of my childhood, but it did make me a stronger person with all the responsibilities I had growing up. I managed to be an above-average student all throughout school and even played some sports. My father would beat me if I got anything worse than a B grade. He wasn’t involved with my education other than reading my report cards from my teachers.

My favorite hobby was collecting baseball cards and playing baseball. I grew up a huge Ted Williams fan, considering he was from San Diego like me, and he was a Marine like my father. I was more of a Dodgers fan, but I cheered for the Boston Red Sox because of Ted Williams. Watching him play was one of the few highlights of my childhood. The few friends I had would play baseball with me in the street or at the nearby park.

I would practice impersonating the batting stance and swing of Ted Williams. I got so good that you could not tell the difference. I was also tall and skinny like Ted Williams who was also known as the Splendid Splinter. As I got older, I actually played less baseball because I had too many responsibilities at home. I even had a part-time job working at a diner when I was in high school to help out with bills.

My freshman year in high school started a couple of months after the Korean War ended. My father came home from the war the same week as I started high school. By this point in my life, I could easily notice that my mother was happier when my father was deployed overseas. It seemed like she lived in fear when my father was home, and many times, I witnessed it firsthand.

My father was born in Brooklyn, New York, on April 5, 1916. His father was a plumber in Brooklyn, and his mother was a stay-at-home parent like my mother. She was born on September 11, 1917, in Trenton, New Jersey. They were both murdered in their apartment when I was only three years old. I have no memory of them, and my father rarely talked about his parents. All I know is my grandfather served in the Army during WWI, shortly after my father was born.

My parents met in high school after my mother moved to Brooklyn with her family in 1931. It was during the Great Depression, and her family moved to Brooklyn to find work. Her father worked in construction, and her mother worked as a nanny for some wealthy business owner. They were fortunate to provide a good home and life for my mother during hard times. My parents were high school sweethearts and fell in love at a young age. They got married on September 18, 1935, which was a week before my father shipped off to Marine Corps boot camp in Parris Island, South Carolina.

My father’s first duty station was at Camp at MCB, San Diego, as Military Police (MP). After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, he joined the First Marine Division at the newly built Camp Pendleton in early 1942. After months of training and preparing for combat, he deployed to the Pacific to fight the Japanese. He was awarded the Navy Cross and Purple Heart at the Battle of Guadalcanal. Later, he was awarded the Bronze Star for his actions in Iwo Jima. My father never talked about the war, but I read his DD-214 to see his military experience.

Although I know combat changed my father for the worse, I am thankful and proud of his sacrifice for our country. I know he gave the Marine Corps all he had to give, but he failed to give the same effort with his family. My mother and I know he loved us, but he was too broken from the horrors he saw in combat. After the things I have seen as a detective in the Los Angeles Police Department, I understand his pain and his loss of compassion. I could never physically abuse my family, but I emotionally shut them out of my life.

It was sometime during the spring of 1946, the first time I saw my father physically abuse my mother. I was only eight years old when I saw my father slap my mother across her face, leaving a red hand mark on her face. I don’t remember what instigated that kind of reaction from my father, but I made myself a promise that I would do everything I could from that point on to protect my mother from him. A few months later, my father came home from work and found some dirty dishes in the sink, and he went after my mother like a lion stalking a gazelle.

As he was screaming at her and making a fist, I stepped in front of him to try to stop him. He knocked me over like I was a bowling pen. He grabbed my mom forcibly by her shoulders and shook her as she cried. I got up and started hitting him in his back, but he didn’t stop until her face was welted from his backhand slap. He turned around and smirked at me as he walked to the living room to watch television. I remember comforting my mom as she fought back the tears from falling down her wounded face.

That became a common theme in the Rubbick household for most of my childhood. He never roughed me up to bad, just pushed me away from protecting my mother, but she would be bruised and battered at least once a month. Almost always after he had been drinking and the demons took over his body. He could drink all day and night and still function as a productive Marine. That amazed me that he never let his drinking interfere with his service to the Marine Corps.

In June of 1950, war broke out in Korea; and by the wintertime, he was off to war again. My mother would never admit it, but I believe she was happy to see him go to war. My father would be wounded in combat, and he received his second Purple Heart. This was a more serious injury, and he would be out of commission for almost five months. The rehabilitation of his leg wound was hard on him, and he had to stay sober the whole time while in the hospital. In the summer of 1953, I got a part-time job washing dishes at a diner.

My father returned home from the Korean War in September 1953 for the start of my sophomore year in high school. It appeared he was a changed man since he stopped drinking, and months went by without any violent incidents. My mother and I were overjoyed that he wasn’t his abusive self until one night in early 1954, he started to drink again. That night he gave my mother a black eye and bloody lip for no reason at all. He was back to drink, and he wouldn’t stop again for the rest of his life.

He got promoted to company first sergeant in June of 1954 and spent his last year in the Marine Corps sitting at a desk. He was home more often, and the abuse on my mother and me was more than ever. In May of 1956, I graduated high school; and I moved to Burbank, California, with my future wife. Jennifer Grunisky was born on February 14, 1939, in San Diego, California. She was thin and fair skinned with long shiny black hair and green eyes. We got married in Burbank on July 15, 1959, at the courthouse. It was the happiest day of my life, and I was finally content with my life.

Jennifer didn’t have much family as she was the only child as well. Both her parents were killed in a tragic airplane crash accident. Her aunt Kathleen Grunisky from her father’s side of the family raised her from the age of fifteen. Her aunt was a wealthy widow from the inheritance she received from the sale of her deceased husband’s real estate business. She didn’t like talking too much about her parents because it was too painful for her.

She worked as a waitress, and I worked as a laborer for a concrete company. I helped pour concrete for construction on the Santa Monica Freeway. It was backbreaking work, and I would be tired by the time I got home. My wife would already be home and have dinner prepared for me. She was an excellent wife who always put me first. She deserved nothing but love and support that I would eventually fail to give her and my son.

CHAPTER 2

Early Policing Years

The Los Angeles Police Department was known as the best or at least one of the best law enforcement agencies in the world. I knew I didn’t want to serve in the military and end up like my father, but law enforcement appealed to my interest. The city of Los Angeles was expanding, and the police department was on a hiring frenzy at that time, so I decided to apply. I counseled my wife about joining the police department, and she fully supported that decision. A few weeks later, I took the police exam and passed.

The next phase of the hiring phase was a