Hey guys, Nate Hale here. This is the second part of a special two-part episode.

If you haven't listened to part one yet, I suggest you go back and listen to that one first.

We'll be right here waiting for you to catch up. And now, on with the show.

There was a desert wind blowing that night.

It was one of those hot dry Santa Santaanas that come down through the mountain passes

and curl your hair and makes your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that, every

booze party ends in a fight. Meek little housewives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husband's necks.

That's how the legendary mystery author Raymond Chandler began his novella, wind. And that's pretty close to how some

people describe the warm mountain wind that blew through Brentwood in the early morning hours of

Sunday August 5th, 1962.

Tall trees swayed in the wind outside the home of Maryland Monroe that night.

A set of antique wind chimes that had been given to the actress by the poet Carl Sandberg tinkled noisily in the darkness.

Sometime during the evening, some of the neighbors reported hearing the sound of shouting,

than the crash of broken glass.

Then came the voice of a hysterical woman screaming,

Murderers, you murderers, are you satisfied now that she's dead?

Marilyn Monroe's next-door neighbors, Mr and Mrs. Abe Landau, returned home from a party in the late Saturday evening and claimed to have seen an ambulance and a police car parked in the cul-de-sac outside the actress's residence. Close to midnight other people in the neighborhood complained about the noise from a helicopter

hovering overhead.

Shortly before midnight a dark Mercedes was speeding east

along Olympic Boulevard through Beverly Hills. They were doing at least 55 miles per

hour in a 35 mile per hour zone.

Beverly Hills Police Officer Lynn Franklin flipped on his lights and siren and chased them down.

...