Harvey Murray Glatman: First of the Signature Killers

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Harvey Glatman reached Los Angeles in January, 1957.

Alone and unsupervised for the first time in years, his psyche went crazy. Without much hesitancy, his fantasies of naked women in bondage screamed aloud, and brazenly. By the time he would be restrained by police a year and a half later, he had killed three women and nearly a fourth.

The first thing he did when arriving in California was to renew an old hobby of his: photography. He had excelled in the art during high school; it fascinated him. He never could quite explain his captivation — maybe because he was able to capture the world in whatever tones and in whatever fashion he wished, and box it into a size eight by ten, dull finish or glossy. Whatever the charm, he devised a new outlet for it now, one that made his libido quiver. Up and down the main thoroughfares of downtown L.A., small modeling studios promoted their own array of girls willing to pose for a price, clothed, semi-clad or in the buff. Seedy, yes, but it was a dream come true for Harvey Glatman with a lot of time, and fantasies.

Pornography provided a release in the only way he knew.

Murder would cover it up.