Answers in the Attic

That makes sense. That was the judge. It was so handsome. No, no, not not a judge, my grand The voices you're hearing with me are a Phyllis Briggs Turner and her daughter, Beth Turner. Phillis owns a breakfast spot just outside of Seattle, and Beth is a freelance writer for an online magazine. Here they were taking me through some of the belongings left behind by Phyllis's late father, Hank Briggs, a private detective in the Los Angeles area in the nineteen fifties.

Can you help me with this? Oh? Yeah, of course, thanks? Mom? Was this photo from the war? Uh? No, it's basic training, I think, Ah, Jesus, I can't believe we kept all of these. There's so much stuff. Hank died just over two months ago, and the arrival of all of his

belongings to Phyllis's house is fairly recent and was somewhat unexpected. See, Hank had lived alone for years with little to no contact with anyone, so when Phillis and Beth showed up to clean out his house, they expected to find just a bunch of junk trinkets, old photographs, clothing, and they're like but hidden away in the attic of hank briggs home. We're missing pieces in one of the most famous unsolved murders Hollywood has ever known. From Vot's Popula and the

Los Angeles, Harold, this is the Angel of Vine. Why old heart ain't gain and no ground because my Angels. I'm Oscar Simons of the Los Angeles, Harold, and welcome to the Angel of Vine. A little bit about me and my involvement in this crazy story before we begin. Some of you already know me in my podcast, so

please bear with me. As I explained to those who may be listening for the first time, I promised to try and make it brief I've always been fascinated by investigative police work, specifically when that work reaches its limit, where there are no more clues or leads, and all information and options seem to have been exhausted. A cold case. Now, one of the most famous of these cases is the Angel of Vine. Chances are you've heard the name, even

if you don't know the details now. Like so many others, this case has always been of great interest to me. It was a gruesome murder for any time period, but especially for that time and after the only suspect in the case was released from custody, the police work stopped in its tracks when it seemed as if there was nowhere left to look. Everyone just stopped looking. Everyone except for Hank Briggs so Beth for the record, for our listeners, Why am I here such deep questions so early in

the morning. No, Um, you're here because I called you about my grandfather's tapes that I found, that my mother and I found. And what about those tapes led you to me? We have to go back a little. Um. So, my mom got a call from the Los Angeles Police Department. Right yeah, l A p D contacted Seattle p D, who showed up here out of the blue. And what do they say that Hanks died peacefully in his home in Los Angeles and left everything to me? Wow? Yeah,

that's your average house call. No, not so much. How long had it been since she's senior Valley? Long time? Not since my mother's funeral. I'm sorry, don't be so After that, you had l A. Yes, we flew down the following week to meet with the probate lawyer. How is that expeditious? Relatively clinical? The afternoon that we arrived in l A, the lawyer hand us a check from hanks bank account, the keys to the house and keys tweet car that hadn't been driven in years. Did you

go to the house that day? We did that afternoon. We didn't meet the realtor there until the next day. But when you're hand at the keys to a house, do you go see the house? I'm assuming that wasn't the house you grew up in. It wasn't. What was it like? It was depressing before we even walked in. I was starting with that old car, and not like old car, like a classic car and eight three colss

Sierra haven't been maintained in years. The fender was rusted cobwebs around the hub caps that the felt from the interior ceiling was sagging, depressing. So what was it like walking into the house for the first time, Like entering any stranger's home. Completely foreign, and it was very dark. The blinds were all closed. Not much in the way of furniture either, feel very lonely. There was a reclining chair in the center of the living room and one

of those TV dinner stands you know there's. The TV was on a loose sight rolling cart old, not antenna old, but everything felt old, as if there was a filter over everything. I mean, the couch had a plastic cover on it. We stepped into a different era and the bedroom was completely bare except for the book of poetry and the photograph of you, Arolene and Grandma and an ashtray ashtrays in every corner. The whole house smelled like stale cigarettes and catfood, but there wasn't a cat, not

that we found anyway. So when did you find the attic? We didn't actually know there was an attic the first day. We were only there for what maybe fifteen minutes. It was when we met the realtor there. I heard her say, what's up here? And there was the ladder. It was one of those pool string panels in the hallway ceiling on the way to the bathroom. So you climbed the ladder, and what do you see the trappings of a mad hoarder. File boxes, file box upon file box upon file box.

I mean there were boxes everywhere. What did you find in those boxes? We found the tapes? Where was he? Right? This guy's wife, you know, they just know, right, she just knew he was running around behind her back with the neighbor girl, this gorgeous blonde actress from Utah, Mormon girl shirked her husband and sister Winds or whatever to move to Hollywood and kiss matten the adols, you know,

the usual. So this guy, he's not even trying to hide it, leaves work for a lunch, goes right down the street, buys flowers, candy, breath mints, starts driving back to his neighborhood. And I'm thinking, well, this job lasted a day, right, Maybe I shouldn't lose him. I don't know, stretch it out till the weekend or whatever. I mean, I got a mortgage in office rent, you know, all right, So I'm following the guy, and he drives right past the actress is little Bungalow, and I think, Okay, not

so predictable after all, not this guy. After about half an hour, he finally pulls over downtown, right near that giant warehouse near sixth. He goes into one of those new I don't know, animated buildings, you know, across the street. I don't know what they call him. So so now I'm hustling to get in after him, because christ I lose this guy and he's gone god knows how long, which again, not such a bad thing, right, Maybe I will make my mortgage after all, who knows, But not

if I don't get anything on him. So I sneak in there and I see him talking to someone on the first floor, practically begging this guy to be let into the place. I pretend I'm checking the mail and the lobby until he goes in, and then one, two three, I count the doors in the hall. He goes in the number three, so I pop outside. I make my way to the windows of the place. One two three, I sidled up the window. Three, I grabbed my camera and pay him. Got him. You want to know what

this freaking guy's doing. I got him in a diaper being held by a very large woman. He's in this big diaper, pacifier in his mouth and every time I can you believe? Then, how the hell am I going to tell his wife with a straight face? So that's what he's been doing. I may to forget about him. When I showed the pictures to each his own, I guess, but I don't know. Hey, hey, my drinking alone again. I'm coming. Charlie's unbelievable, right. Parnell has got to be steaming.

Didn't even get a full month to celebrate his no hit her. Hey, how's aunty? She's killing me? To be fair, I wanted to throw all the tapes out with the rest of the stuff, decades of case files and this entire life that none of us were privy to, but Beth insisted on shipping it all here. I never met him,

I mean I had never wanted to. But when I saw all of those boxes, all of his cases, and the tapes, all of those tapes there are hundreds of hundreds, and suddenly I wanted to hear what my grandfather had to say. I wanted to know about him. Would you like some more coffee. Thanks. Okay, so you ship all this stuff back here and then and then one well everything was thrown into these boxes, no logs, no order

to it, just chucked in a box. And once everything was unloaded into the garage and just staring at me, I thought, where the hell do I begin? So? Where did you start with the ones that I found? With the mini phone? For those who who don't know, can you describe what a mini phone is? Yeah? So it's a clunky handheld recorder about the size of a three hundred page paperback, and each tape, that's what you want to call it, is a spool of metal wire, basically

a small reel to reel. But what's really crazy about it is that it came with this phone attachment, a watch with a microphone and a hole ster. Sounds like spy gear totally so. So he could be wearing it under his coat or recording you from the microphone and his watch. Can I see that? Yeah? Ever, no, you're being recorded? Uh wow? Yeah. There's also a foot pedal. Must have been for his office. Yeah, the pantilet shows

it used under a desk. That would make sense. Okay, so you find the mini phone and then what So I picked one of the tapes, and after a few delicate minutes trying to figure out just how to load it, I impressed play and there he was my grandfather, and there was this immediate sense of urgency and his voice, and so I stopped it. Why it was darring. I also realized that I didn't have any context. I didn't know what I was listening to. I mean, none of

the information would make any sense to me. What do you mean? Well, I knew the name the Angel of Vine. I had heard of it, but not much else. So I turned to the internet technology just to get the basics about the case. Your blog came up with the most recent article about it, and after a quick read, that's that's when I knew I might be in over my head. And that's why you're here. So you saw the crime scene, botus, I did. Jesus Christ. A warning

to the possibly squeamish. What you're about to hear is Hank reading Detective Lieutenant Robert Perkins report of when he first arrived at the crime scene. The victim in question would later be identified as Marlene Murray Evans, dubbed by the media the Angel Levine. Body was lying souppine let's face up in the parking lot, head pointed south, feet

pointing to the north. The legs of the victim were crusted and the arms were pointing downward each of the forty five gray angle with the poems facing up towards the sky. Victims ribs were protruding outward from behind the torso and I either side of the body at a forty five degree angle, pointing solid blood, presumably the victims was splattered on the pavement outward from each rib directly over the head of the body formed a semi circle

of twelve bones. Jesus, there were no visible ascerations of bruises that would indicate a struggle anywhere on the front of the body. Seems that the victim had been killed at a different location. No kidding, Perkins, as it appears to have been cleaned prior to being placed here. What kind of sick o. It's like he was getting the camera ready, Dad, That poor girl's parents further warning. What follows is from the autopsy performed on March six by

Dr John Lemery, Los Angeles County Corner. In the report, it states all of her details. She was five ft six weighed pounds. She had brown hair and hazel eyes. G L seventy residue was found on the front of her central and lateral incisors, as well as the underside of her upper right, second and third molars. Like with Perkins report, there was nothing out of the ordinary when it came to the front side of Marlen's body. Her

back is a whole other story. The body had been cut longitudinally, that is to say, vertically, from the base of the skull to just above the sacrum. The trapezius and latissimus dorside muscles of her back had been peeled away and removed. Her ribs were then peeled outward, and the twelve bones above her head were the twelve intact vertebrae of her entire thoracic spine, her wings, and her halo.

The body had been drained of its blood, except for the amount splattered at the crime scene, which was later assumed to be Marline's as it matched her known blood type. Lemery also noted that there was extensive echymosis or bruising at the sites where the muscles had been removed, which means she was alive during this If there is any

good news here, and I'm trying to find some. It is that the official cause of death was ruled an overdose from a combination of two barbeto It's pento barbatral and Cicco barbatal sedative used for a wide range of conditions from insomniato epilepsy. For Marlene to have had enough of these in her system to cause her death, it is safe to say that she was not aware of what was being done to her, and that is the good news at least I choose to believe that. Now

we do know the body was cleaned. But I want to go back for a second to when I mentioned something called g L seventy that was found on her teeth. So what is g L seventy. Well, g L seventy was a compound found in glee toothpaste that supposedly fought oder. Think about that for a second. She's been essentially dissected, right, her body intricately mutilated beyond belief, and the killer takes the time during all of this to brush her teeth.

Like Hank said, it's like he was getting her camera ready. Hollywood, California not just the home of glitz and glamour. No beneath the limousines and mink coats looks a dark underbelly of crime, narcotics, and yes, even murder. The Angel of Vine, a murder straight from the pages of a dime store thriller, has captured the minds and fuelled the nightmares of the

nation and baffled law enforcement in Los Angeles. And how could it not the life of Marley Marie Evans just twenty three years old with a burgeoning film career, and did tragically on March nine nine in an empty part lot just north of Hollywood Boulevard. Her body mutilated, her life cut short, and her killers still at large. And with numerous false confessions, countless individual's questions, and no viable suspects on the horizon, will the Angel of Ning be

one Hollywood tale to go without a third act? Oh, late time, we'll tell. After my first interview with Beth and Phillis, I reached out to a self proclaimed expert in the case and asked him if he wouldn't mind meeting me at the scene where it all started. David, Yep, Hey you you ask her? Yeah, nice to meet you. Yeah you too, Yeah, thanks for meeting me here of course. Hey, welcome to dead Hollywood Tours. That's what I do. Man.

So you want to know about Marlene Ribbons Huh, the grizzly unsolved murder of a young actress, the angel as they call her. Well, they found her right over there in that parking lot. Yes, sir, flayed imposed and angelic staring at the heavens. You know what I find amazing is how many crazy theories people have about the murder. How many? Why can you tell me one? I'm sure people love to latch onto the idea of a southern

California that they've heard about. When it comes to cases like I don't know, the Manson family or the Zodiac Killer. Everyone wants to attach a half naked, wacko culture, a hooded madman whose m O is always somehow satanic rituals. And you don't think that that was the case here, Oh, absolutely not. The likelihood that Marlene Maray Evans was a sacrifice to a secret society is as plausible as the idea that she was murdered by the FBI, the CIA,

and the mafia. Interesting, how can you be sure? Well, because because of the care and the attention paid to her body, the ribs made to look like wings, and the use of her spine to create a halo. I mean, it's all too clean, man, it's the theatrical. It's too much of a presentation. I mean, I certainly don't think the killer had Ernie Newburn in mind as the dude

that was going to find Winder. I mean, here's this laborer on his way to treat himself to some pancakes, a through pars and instead of staying on Yucca, which I would have done, takes the lot that cuts through from Ivart de Vine and finds himself an angel, you know, pancakes for any of that day. I mean a construction worker.

She was found by a freaking construction worker who panics, grabs every other worker on the job to confirm that what he's found is in fact a dead girl, and by the time the cops show up, it's a zoo. I mean, if if you're gonna lay a body across from an active construction site before dawn on a weekday, there's no question she was absolutely meant to be found

and seen by the public. I mean, once the press in this town got wind of the crime scene, they nearly destroyed any evidence in that lot, trying to scoop each other. I mean, can you imagine trying to keep that lot safe from a mob of reporters. That's a ton of space to block off from vultures, let alone comb for evidence with flashing bulbs going off and question is being yelled at that you don't have the answers to It must have been absolute mayhem, absolute mayhem. And

Hollywood ate it up. I mean, not just Hollywood, everyone ate it up. I'm still leading it up. I mean, have you heard those awful newsreels from back then? I have, Yes, Yeah, they're they're pretty colorful, colorful, they're grotesque and if you ask me, which you are the only benefit of the killer. The grandiosity of the drama on that scale of reporting just created more hysteria. Little known fact where poor old

Ernie found her in that parking lot. He was actually closer to Ivar Marlene Marie Evans is actually the angel of Ivor. That's not as catchy, is it? So the reporters use angel of vine everybody knows fine Hollywood and Vine bang instant headline. Everybody's hooked. My mother used to say, all he cared about was that dead girl meeting the angel? It makes more sense now, So what else can you tell me about Hank? We know he was a police officer.

What my mother used to call him a professional peeping tom. But yes, he was a cop for many years until he left the force. Do you know what? Something to do with politics within the department. They wanted to make an example of him, and so he left. After that, he opened his private detective agency. Spends less and less time at home. My mother kicks him out. G was a tough cookie, understandable. I can't say a blamer, said just a second meeting here, I'm not going anywhere. Yeah,

how can I help you? Hank breeze? That's what it says on the door. May I see that's what it's there for? You come? Highly recommended, Mr Briggs. Urban was especially pleased with your discretion. You don't strike me as a Hollywood type. I'd like you to help me find someone how You're gonna have to be a little bit more specific, Mr Briggs, I want you to help me find whoever killed Marley Marie Evans. The Angel of Vine was a case with little to no information surrounding it.

There were no prints, no clues, few suspects, and nothing connecting it to any other victims in any other cases. The investigation had such a dead end that the entirety of the l a p D gave up after eight months. I want you to think about that for a second. The l a p D gave up any hope that

they would catch Marlene Marie Evans killer. And here we are, decades later, with an entire attic filled with audio recordings of an ex cop turned private detective who got closer than anyone to solving the murder and didn't tell us all. I want to know what made Hank Briggs the guy for the job. I want to know how he found a trail that no one else could. And more than anything, I want to know if he can tell the world

who killed. The Angel of Vine. The Angel Levine is a podcast produced by Vox popular on behalf of the Los Angeles Harold. Thank you for listening to the Angel of Vine. If you'd like to support us, please leave a review and tell your friends to subscribe. The Angel of Vine is available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher, and all major podcast apps. If you can't wait for the

next episode of the Angel of Vine. Starting tomorrow, you can listen to episodes two through five exclusively on Stitcher Premium, as well as Angel Levine bonus episodes, extended episodes, and add free episodes. Go to Stitcher Premium dot com slash Angel and use promo code Angel to get your first month of Stitcher Premium free. The Angel Levine is directed by E. Ryan Martz, written by Oliver Vacare, Story by E. Ryan Marts, Jason Somwalt and Oliver Vacare. Sound designed by

Joel Robbie. Produced by Vox Populi in association with Forever Dog Podcast Network. This episode's performances by Joe Manganello, Constant Zimmer, Camilla Ludington, Alan Tudeck, Nolan North, Eric Bowsa Cree Summer and Oliver Vacare. Angelis is performed by Desy Dennis Dylan piano and arrangement by James Harper, composed by Matt Dennis Lyrics by Earl Brent from downtown Los Angeles. This has been the Angel Levine. You'll hear more from us soon. Oh is my Joe? H excuse me? While I did supppear