The Hollywood Story that Shocked America

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: I offered a prize package in an auction recently, and the winner lives in Alaska. I took this huge box to the post office, and the guy weighed it, and said: “That'll be eighty dollars to go first class.”

“EIGHTY DOLLARS!” I yelped. “How much to send it a cheaper way?”

He consulted his computer, and said: “Ground is twenty dollars.”

“Great,” I said. “How long will that take?"

He paused, calculating. And got a funny expression on his face. “A month? Mayyyybe?” he eventually said.

“A MONTH?” I yelped again.

He shrugged.”It’s Alaska.”

I said, “Well, yeah, but there are airplanes.”

And he said, “True. But this is ground shipping. You are thinking of sending something overland from Boston to Alaska. Good luck with that.”

We both paused, as I imagined that.

“How long for first class?" I finally asked.

“Three days.”

And so it went.

(And if you are curious, UPS was MUCH MORE.)
So, Alaska. Faraway, unless you are already there. And it’s where the intrepid James T. Bartlett found a riveting and compelling true crime story--which he developed into a fascinating book: The Alaskan Blonde: Sex, Secrets, and the Hollywood Story that Shocked America.

Oooh, right?

(And read on for the giveaway!)

Your Favorite Deadly Place

by

James T. Bartlett

 When you’re writing fiction, particularly a mystery or thriller, you can choose an obscure place for a corpse to be discovered. It can even be a selling point you can construct the story around.

 

It’s the opposite for true crime, where you have to deconstruct the story around where the victim was found. You could cherry pick one with an especially “cool” murder site, but often a real-life case grabs you by the throat and compels you to investigate, no matter where it took place.

 

Once you’re hooked, the fact that it happened in a town, state or country you have never heard of, or that it occurred in 1953, 1902 or 1817, makes it more interesting and challenging.

 

This happened for me in relation to Alaska.

 

I loved The Terror, and I devour books about the search for the Northwest Passage and the agony and ecstasy of expeditions led by Scott, Shackleton, and others. So, it was rather a disappointment to learn that Fairbanks, where my murder happened, was right in the center of interior Alaska.

 

It’s at least 500 miles from open ocean too, which meant that I was more likely to see a grizzly than a polar bear, let alone be savaged by one.

 

The closest I got were taxidermy examples at Fairbanks airport, where I soon learned that my idea of a research trip timed to the October anniversary of the murder was a misstep. Locals repeatedly told me “winter is coming” without irony, and I quickly had to adjust from 75 degree California to 25 degree Fairbanks.

 

I also began to wonder why Alaska didn’t feature more regularly in true crime books.

 

It’s often top of the charts in violent crime statistics, and arguably it’s a killer’s paradise, no matter how stunning the Aurora Borealis looks swirling in the night sky. Vast, gun-heavy, largely uninhabited, often inaccessible, and subject to strange and dangerous weather conditions that can twist the mind, it seems to have been made for malicious intentions.

 

My murder however was of the standard domestic variety: successful businessman Cecil Wells was shot in his bed at the fancy Northward Building in Fairbanks, and his glamorous, blonde wife Diane – some 20 years younger than he – was beaten unconscious.

 

Diane said that two masked men had broken in, but then police got a tip she’d been having an affair with Johnny Warren, a married, Black musician, and the story exploded out of what was then a largely-ignored US territory.   

 

It scandalized Jim Crow America with the film noir-stylings and illicit (for the time) sex talk, and made the pages of Life, Newsweek, Ebony and more. The pulp magazines thrilled over it too, and it hit the headlines as far away as England and Australia.

 

To add extra pressure, Alaska was trying hard to become a state, and such lawlessness was, to use a modern phrase, “not good optics.” I found territorial records were often shambolic, and that after attaining statehood, officialdom hadn’t been keen to look back into the past. No wonder the Wells family hired private eyes, and felt Cecil’s murder had been swept under the carpet, despite Diane and Johnny both being accused of first-degree murder.

 

Alaska is however a popular backdrop for fiction, and several US states have miles of dusty desert or endless acres of dense woods and forest. There are plenty of lakes, rivers and lagoons to choose from too. So, imagine for a moment you had some dark deeds in mind: which location would you choose, and why?

    

 

HANK: I’d still adore to go to Alaska–by air, not ground. And I cannot even imagine how big it is. And I loved The Terror, too.

 

SO, as James asks, where would you imagine a dark deed? And have you ever been to Alaska?

 

AND! He’ll sign and mail a copy of The Alaskan Blonde to two randomly-picked commenters. 

 

 

Journalist James T. Bartlett has written for over 130 publications including the Los Angeles Times, BBC, Westways, American Way, Hemispheres, Crime Reads, Real Crime, ALTA California, Atlas Obscura and others. His latest true crime book, The Alaskan Blonde: Sex, Secrets, and the Hollywood Story that Shocked America, is available now. Find out more at www.thealaskanblonde.com .

THE ALASKAN BLONDE

Nicknamed "the most beautiful woman in Alaska," 31-year-old Diane Wells was bruised and bloodied when she screamed for help in the early hours of October 17, 1953. Her husband Cecil, a wealthy Fairbanks businessman, had been shot dead, and she claimed they were the victims of a brutal home invasion.

 

Blonde, glamorous and 20 years younger than Cecil, police were immediately suspicious of Diane’s account, and after an anonymous tip the investigation turned toward her alleged lover, Black musician Johnny Warren, who had left town the night of the murder.

The scandalous mix of money and sex in Jim Crow America saw the story hit the pages of Newsweek, Life, Ebony, Jet and the pulp detective magazines, and nearly 70 years later, James T. Bartlett uncovers new evidence including an unpublished memoir as he re-examines the FBI files. He also tracks down and interviews the people close to Cecil, Diane, Johnny, and the mysterious “Third Suspect”, dance instructor William Colombany, to reveal the story of what was called “the most notorious and baffling murder in the history of Fairbanks.”