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The thing escalated into a hick-town cause célèbre.
    Ellis was convicted for drunk driving. Appeals kept him out of jail for over a year. Ellis and his pals beat the bribery rap.
    The drunk driving appeals ran out on June 19th. A judge confirmed the conviction. Ellis was ordered to appear for sentencing on June 27th.
    The Desert Inn was venerably shitkicker—and high-class by El Monte standards.
    Spade Cooley played there on his way down from local TV. The quasi-Ink Spots played there on their post-Vegas slide.
    Negro customers got the bum’s rush. Spies got a wary welcome—if they didn’t show up en masse.
    The Desert Inn was a good place to drink and scout nookie. The Desert Inn was safe and civilized—by 1958 El Monte standards.
    Jim Bruton met Hallinen and Lawton at the bar. It was 6:30 p.m.
    They hit Al Manganiello up for the Desert Inn guest book. Al showed them a ledger filled with names and addresses. They skimmed it and found two men named Tom.
    Tom Downey: 4817 Azusa Canyon Road, Baldwin Park. Tom Baker: 5013 North Larry Street, Baldwin Park.
    Al said he didn’t know Tom Baker. Tom Downey was more their speed—sort of a slick dark-haired guy like the one they said was dancing with the redhead.
    Hallinen, Lawton and Bruton drove to Downey’s address. A woman answered the door and ID’d herself as Mrs. Downey.
    She said Tom was still at work—he sold Fords at El Monte Motors. He should be home in a few minutes.
    They told her they’d be back later and staked out the house in Bruton’s car. “A few minutes” stretched to nine and a half hours.
    They called it quits at 5:00 a.m. Bruton radioed the station and told them to dispatch a patrol unit to relieve the stakeout.
    A black & white arrived five minutes later. Bruton drove Hallinen and Lawton back to the Desert Inn to get their cars. Everybody dispersed and went home.
    The patrol guys watched the Downey house. Tom Downey showed up twenty minutes into their stakeout.
    The patrol guys grabbed him. They radioed the El Monte switchboard and told the operator to rouse Captain Bruton.
    Tom Downey was pissed off and bewildered. The patrol guys drove him to the El Monte Station and placed him in an interview room.
    Jim Bruton walked in. His first impression of Tom Downey: This guy is too stocky to be our suspect.
    Bruton questioned him. Downey said he was out chasing cunt—and boy was he tired. Bruton told him to run down his Saturday-night activities.
    Downey said he was at the Desert Inn on two different occasions. The first time was between 8:00 and 9:00. He sat at a table with Ben Grissman and another guy while they ate their dinner.
    Ben and the other guy left. He stayed another ten minutes or so. He hit a few more spots, returned to the Desert Inn and had two drinks. He cashed a 20-dollar check with the bartender and split just prior to midnight. He went to another bar and met up with a friend. They drove to a steak house in Covina and had a late supper. He got home real late.
    Bruton described the victim, the blonde and the dark man, and placed them at the Desert Inn roughly concurrent with Downey’s visits. Downey said he didn’t notice anybody resembling them.
    Bruton wrote down “Ben Grissman” and got the name of Downey’s other buddy. He told Downey that some Sheriff’s men might want to talk to him.
    Downey pledged his cooperation. Bruton sent him home in a patrol car.
    A letter arrived at the El Monte Station Tuesday morning. It was scrawled on the back of a bank deposit slip and an employee’s time clock sheet.
    El Monte Chief of Police 6/23/58
    Dear Sir,
    I would suggest, in relation to your latest rape murder (that I read about in today’s paper) you should question E. Ponce, a TV repair man, works for Dorn’s, lives in Monterey Park. This is rather near El Monte and my wife charges that he raped her in April of last year, in my home. He also threatened her at that time and the rest of the family. Our matter is in the courts