Tag Archive for: All Signs Point to Murder

With each Zodiac Mystery, I try to find a unique section of the city in which to place a story, or search for historic or unusual buildings.  No problem there, because San Francisco is a city that truly values and preserves its architecture and history.  In the first Zodiac Mystery, The Madness of Mercury, I ‘borrowed’ a mansion on Telegraph Hill.  All Signs Point to Murder highlighted Pacific Heights and the dangerous currents of the Golden Gate straits.  Tail of the Dragon takes place downtown in the Financial District, Enter a Wizard, Stage Left, at a theater in North Beach, and now, Serpent’s Doom, focuses on Chinatown, one of my favorite neighborhoods. 

I was reminded recently of two really unique structures that I hadn’t thought about for years — the windmills of Golden Gate Park.  When I first lived in San Francisco, I spotted them in the distance, as I stood at the curve of Point Lobos leading down to the Great Highway and the Pacific Ocean.  I couldn’t believe my eyes.  Windmills!  Two of them!  I had never seen anything like it and I couldn’t imagine why there were windmills at the western edge of Golden Gate Park, right across the road from the ocean.  I asked every native San Franciscan I met about them, but never got a satisfactory answer, sometimes a vague reference to wind power to pump water.  Water for what, I wondered?  I investigated further and drove into the Park to get a closer look, or at least as close as I could get because they were off limits at the time, unsafe to get any closer.  They had stood unused for almost a hundred years, the structures and the sails were in terrible disrepair, rotting from insect and water damage. 

But it was those windmills that made Golden Gate Park possible.  Once upon a time, the western end of the peninsula that is San Francisco was absolutely uninhabitable, nothing but miles of sand dunes over bedrock, layered in fog.  The now densely populated and extremely expensive area was considered unlivable.  It was a 25 year old civil engineer, William Hammond Hall, who designed the Park.  The area was so problematic that even the renowned landscape designer, Frederick Law Olmsted, turned the job down. 


The windmills were needed to pump 1.5 million gallons of groundwater per day to irrigate the park.  The Dutch (North) Windmill was built in 1902.  It stands 75 feet tall, somewhat restored, it’s surrounded by thousands of tulips in the Queen Wilhelmina Tulip Garden.  The Murphy (South) Windmill was built in 1907.  Six short years later, a motorized system was installed and eventually, the windmills were no longer needed. 

Finally, in 2011, the Murphy Windmill was beautifully restored, but operates only occasionally, and with caution.  Inside are floors of gleaming wood and stairways leading upward, a cozy lounge with chairs, rugs and a desk, even a shelf with wooden shoes.  Hopefully, no one will throw a sabot into the works of that windmill!  And the view from the top is incredible. 


Years ago, I remember reading a Marcia Muller novel in which her detective hides out for the night in the abandoned and rotting Murphy Windmill!  Now that these are restored, I guess the windmills won’t have the same haunted cachet for a setting in the Zodiac Mysteries.


What do you think?  Could there be a crime there?  Was a worker crushed in the machinery of the windmill?  Did he jump?  Or was he pushed from an upper deck?  Maybe I’ll think about that and see if I can use the windmills in my next story. 


(This post first appeared in Novels Alive on June 13, 2022.)


I’m always casting about for interesting locations to use in the Zodiac Mysteries.  Not just the historic or beautiful settings all around San Francisco, but the mysterious — secret stairways, dark alleys, and weird and haunted tunnels.

Julia Bonatti, my San Francisco astrologer, is a native – a rare thing, since most people come to the city from other places.  She grew up in her grandmother’s house on Castle Alley in North Beach, but now has her own place out on the Avenues, near the ocean where the fog rolls in every afternoon. 

Right around the corner from Julia’s apartment was (in real life) one of the most infamous residences in the city.  The home of Anton LaVey, San Francisco’s celebrity occultist and founder of the Church of Satan.  The house at 6114 California Street is gone now, but I remember it well.  It was completely black and surrounded by a dilapidated fence.  Local gossip and legends surrounded LaVey and his family.  His wild parties and Friday night sabbats in his home with his followers, and his pet panther Zoltan, were legendary. 

LaVey sported an immaculate goatee, always wore a flowing black cape and drove around town in his coroner’s van.  He had started his career playing the organ in a burlesque show but once his fame was established, he could be found playing the Wurlitzer at a local bar, the Lost Weekend, in the Sunset District.  He performed satanic blessings at the Wax Museum at Fisherman’s Wharf and he’s honored by his wax likeness there now.

Many legends and stories have followed LaVey – that he worked for the San Francisco Fire Department, played the devil in ‘Rosemary’s Baby,’ performed satanic rituals in a rock tunnel at Land’s End and put a curse on the Sutro Baths that caused it to burn to the ground shortly after. 

LaVey was likely more a showman than a sorcerer so I doubt most of these stories are true.  What I do know for a fact is that he kept his pet lion Togar in his home.  His neighbors were very concerned about the lion, to say the least and one day, the lion escaped its cage and tore through the house, demolishing walls and plumbing.  LaVey and his family barricaded themselves in the bathroom and called out the window to neighbors for help.  Thankfully, Animal Control arrived and the family was saved. 

Some claim the rock tunnel at Land’s End is still haunted from LaVey’s rituals, and now a new apartment building stands where LaVey’s all black house once stood.  I do have to wonder if the people living in the new building at 6114 California Street know about LaVey’s legend or hear any eerie groans in the night. 


I knew when I started to write my first mystery that it should be set in San Francisco, a city noted for its artists, poets, musicians and writers, not to mention breathtaking views, dark alleys, secret stairways and FOG, lots of fog!  And I wanted my protagonist to have an unusual profession, one that would put her in touch with people from all walks of life.  That’s how my crime-solving astrologer, Julia Bonatti, came to life. 

I’m not alone, of course.  There are many San Francisco mystery and thriller writers who have lived in, or written about the city.  And many people have investigated where some of these famous writers actually lived, or used their own address(es) for their fictional sleuth(s), like Sam Spade.

For example, Jack London was born at 615 Third Street.  Mark Twain, Samuel Clemens, worked at the San Francisco Morning Call at 612 Commercial Street, now the location of the Transamerica Pyramid.  One of my favorite locations is the Seal Rock Inn at 545 Point Lobos Avenue at Land’s End.  The Seal Rock Inn is still there and still welcoming guests, but for a long time, it was the residence of author and journalist, Hunter S. Thomson.  Thomson wrote Hell’s Angels (1967), Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1971)and Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail (1972).  Those last books were written in Room 204, a room with a breathtaking view of Land’s End.  Thomson’s lines conjure up the setting: 

“Dawn is coming up in San Francisco now: 6:09 a.m. . . . at the Seal Rock Inn . . . out here at the far end of Geary Street: this is the end of the line, for buses and everything else, the western edge of America.”

He also wrote that listening to the 200 seals (actually sea lions) on the rocks at Lands End was a lot like spending the night in a dog pound. 

But my all-time favorite San Francisco author is Dashiell Hammett, who lived in several different apartments while he wrote The Maltese Falcon, The Continental Op, The Glass Key and other books.  Hammett lived at 620 Eddy Street in the early 1920’s.  He suffered from the Spanish Flu (his generation’s pandemic) and tuberculosis.  He was so worried about his wife and young baby, that he moved to 891 Post Street, Apartment 401 where he wrote Red Harvest, The Dain Curse and The Maltese Falcon, and finished The Maltese Falcon while living at 1155 Leavenworth, Apartment 2. 

If you’re interested in the works of Dashiell Hammett, check out Up and Down These Mean Streets, the website of Don Herron, a San Francisco mystery and thriller (particularly Hammett) enthusiast and expert.  And if you’re ever in the city, don’t miss his famous walking tours!

Hammett used the apartment at 891 Post Street for Spade’s residence in The Maltese Falcon.  And 20 Monroe Street is now re-named 20 Dashiell Hammett in his honor. 

Just before the Stockton Tunnel overpass is a well-known plaque that reads: 


My sleuth, San Francisco astrologer Julia Bonatti, lives at 366 30th Avenue, just a few blocks from the Seal Rock Inn.  I won’t reveal why I chose that address for Julia, but I can tell you she loves living close to the ocean and hearing the sound of the fog horns day and night! 


Iceland Noir began in 2013, founded by Icelandic writers Yrsa Sigurðardóttir and Ragnar Jónasson. The team today includes Óskar Guðmundsson, Lilja Sigurðardóttir and Kristjan Atli Ragnarsson and probably many more that I didn’t have a chance to meet.  If you haven’t heard of these authors, you’re missing out, so be sure to check out their books.

I first heard about this crime writing festival in 2015 and I was fascinated.  I knew if there was any way possible, I wanted to attend. 

This year, the conference had the biggest press-team ever with journalists from the Sunday Times, The Telegraph, ITV, LBC, RÚV, DV, Fréttablaðið, GayIceland, Mannlíf and Vikan, plus bloggers and freelancers from Crime by the book, the House of Crime and Mystery, the Killing Times and travellingbookjunkie.

I’m a huge fan of Nordic Noir of all sorts and had become very interested in Icelandic writers after discovering Arnaldur Indridason at my library and caught the series Trapped on Netflix.  I was delighted to meet Dr. Noir, aka Dr. Jacky Collins of Newcastle Noir, a passionate supporter of crime fiction.  Even the first lady of Iceland, Elísa Reid, and the founding director of Iceland Writers Retreat and the Prime Minister of Iceland, Katrín Jakobsdóttir, both crime fiction aficionados, participated in the conference.  I even had a chance to say hello to Martin Edwards often seen at Malice Domestic and many other attendees.  For a full list of authors, click here.

This year, the festival was held on November 16th and 17th at the lovely Iðnó theatre at Vonarstræti 3, Reykjavik, by a pond filled with ducks and swans.

I was thrilled to be included on a panel exploring the supernatural – ghosts, trolls, elves and things that go bump in the night – with authors William Ryan, James Oswald and Michael J. MaloneDavid Headley of DHH Literary Agency and Goldsboro Books was our moderator. 

Icelanders are unashamedly mystical.  They truly believe in elves and trolls and the hidden folk (Huldufolk).  And let’s not forget ghosts.  it’s a terribly important subject even for locals who admit they’ve never seen an elf.  I chatted with a tour bus driver who told me, very seriously, that his grandmother could speak to the elves.  In Iceland, if a large rock is in the way of a building project or a new road, it must not be moved or disturbed until an elven translator is called in to communicate.  This is serious stuff!  If you’re interested in learning more, here’s a very informative YouTube video about the hidden people.

The panels started at 9:00 a.m. on the first day and continued till 7:00 p.m.  By the way, did you know it’s still dark as night at 9:00 a.m.?  My hotel was a few blocks away and braving the dark, the wind and the cold, I sat through as many panels as I could.  On Saturday evening, everyone was invited to a showing of I Remember You, a film based on the book of the same title by Yrsa Sigurðardóttir.  I hope it reaches the U.S. soon because it’s one of the best supernatural thrillers I’ve ever seen.  The actors were brilliant and the production values were excellent.  After the film, the festival continued with a ‘Drunken Authors Panel’ and a live band.  I wouldn’t have missed this conference for the world!

Needless to say, I did all the touristy things too.  The Golden Circle tour led to a field of active geysers and the Strokkur geyser at Geysir Hot Springs that erupts every five to eight minutes.  We crossed the rift valley between the North American plate and the Eurasian plate on the surface of the land, which is constantly moving and slowly making Iceland grow larger by an inch or more a year.  Then the tour moved on to the gorgeous Gullfoss waterfall.  Certainly not the biggest waterfall in Iceland , but it’s considered to be the most beautiful.

I was hoping to check out the Icelandic Museum of Sorcery and Witchcraft, especially in light of the panel I had taken part in, but time did not permit.  It’s located in the town of Holmavik in the Westfjords of Iceland and a little too far for me to travel on this trip.  The museum is curated by a sorcerer and If you’re really curious, you can read more here.  Fascinating and creepy!  There’s even more about Viking magic in this interview with the sorcerer himself at his cottage in Bjarnarfjörður.

Of course, I signed up for the Hop On-Hop Off bus tour of Reykjavik which was very informative, but I think my favorite pastime was taking pictures of the charming Christmas shops and Nordic style homes.

I visited the Hallgrímskirkja Lutheran cathedral in Reykjavík.  At 74.5 metres high at the top of a hill overlooking the city, its architecture echoes the basalt columns of the island.  In the 10th century, Icelanders worshipped the old pagan gods of their ancestors.  But later, conversion to Christianity was a matter of law after a compromise between the Christian and heathen chieftains around 999 or 1,000.  Unlike the U.S., there is no separation of church and state in Iceland, although there are ongoing debates about changing this.  But there are even more changes in the wind.  The old Norse pagan religion is still alive and a new Odinst temple is being erected for the first time in 1,000 years.

The northern lights were at the top of my list but sadly my tour had no luck that night.  The bus took about thirty of us out to a vacant field near the town of Akranes to wait in the cold.  It was a crystal clear night, with clouds low on the horizon, far away from light pollution.  We waited till midnight but only saw a slight glimmer.  Our tour guide’s hopes were high, but the sun’s protons or electrons were not cooperating.  Reykjavik Excursions generously offered a free tour for the following night, but I had other plans and couldn’t make it.  I later learned from other tourists they had a great experience on a boat tour out to sea, where the northern lights cooperated.  Sigh . . . maybe someday I’ll see them.

The best tour of all was the Blue Lagoon.  There are other less expensive thermal spas, but the Blue Lagoon is very impressive.  For the basic admission, you receive flip-flops, a comfy robe and a towel.  This also includes a silica face mask and a free drink from the bar in the pool.  A wrist bracelet with a scanner was attached to my wrist in case I wanted to purchase different face masks or drinks that were not included.  A shower in the nude is the first step, then donning my bathing suit, I ventured out to a very cold meeting room and finally to the outdoors.

It was quite cold but utterly beautiful.  A huge baby blue lagoon among black lava rocks with mist rising everywhere.  I hung my robe on a rack and ran down the ramp into the water as fast as I could.  Two hours later, I climbed out, feeling as though I was embarking on a planet with much greater gravity than our earth.  My hair was super shiny from the silica and my muscles felt wonderful.

Oh, and last but not least, I visited the Phallological Museum.  (Dr. Noir had graciously given me a free ticket.)  The “Penis Museum” was started by Sigurður Hjartarson, a retired teacher, who began a life-long search for peni and research into all sorts of animal and sea creatures.  When Mr. Hjartarson’s collection became too big for his living room, his wife put her foot down and insisted the collection had to go, so he set up his first museum in a small Icelandic town.  Later with the help of his son, the museum moved to a location in Reykjavik.

The museum claims that its collection includes the penises of elves and trolls, though, as Icelandic folklore portrays such creatures as being invisible, they cannot be seen.  There are even lampshades made from the scrotums of bulls.  The museum’s quest now is to obtain a human penis and believe it or not, one or two men have volunteered.

I was able to cover a lot of ground on foot and there was no lack of restaurants of all types – Arabic, Vietnamese, French, Italian, not to mention Icelandic.   But I have to say after what I’ve heard, I didn’t want to actually try fermented shark.  Would I visit Iceland again?  Yes, in a heartbeat.  The landscape is absolutely awesome and there is so much more to see there.

My trip may have been a once in a lifetime journey, but I do hope I can return someday and continue to explore this fascinating island at 66 degrees north latitude.

Ten things we don’t know about Julia Bonatti?  Well, let me think.  As the author of the Zodiac Mysteries, I’m not sure there’s anything my protagonist Julia hasn’t already revealed.  I’ve tried to make her fairly open and honest about who she is and what motivates her.  But maybe I can go further . . .
Let’s see . . . Julia’s a Sagittarian and because she’s an astrologer she lets everyone know that her Sun sign indicates optimism, generosity, a free spirit, one who isn’t afraid to take on challenges or tackle danger.  But her birthday?  So far, that’s been a secret.  So here goes — Julia was born on December 3, 1981 at 11:51 a.m. PST in San Francisco.

You can see her chart here.  Notice that her Sun, Mercury and Uranus are all clustered around her 10th house cusp (her career).  Uranus always figures significantly in the charts of astrologers.  Neptune is in the 10th as well.  Her profession is linked to the mysterious, to the occult arts.  Jupiter, Pluto and Saturn are clustered in her 8th house, a mysterious arena, the house of death.  Her Ascendant is Aquarius.  She’s eccentric, doesn’t really fit into the norm of a woman her age.  And her Moon is in Pisces.  She’s sensitive and a pushover for people in trouble.

We do know that her parents were killed in a car crash on the Bay Bridge when she was just a child.  She really can’t remember them too well, just an occasional vague memory.  And she’s an only child raised by her grandmother.  What she doesn’t talk about very much is her sense of displacement, her sense of not belonging.  Her grandmother is her only link to the past.  Then of course there’s Kuan, her grandmother’s friend who lives in the first floor apartment of her grandmother’s house in Castle Alley and practices Chinese medicine.  Kuan was a dear friend of Julia’s grandfather (now deceased).  In fact, Kuan saved her grandfather’s life many years before, but that’s something I’m holding back for a future story.  To Julia, he’s a surrogate grandfather.

With such a small family, her friends, Gale and Cheryl, are terribly important to her.  Julia had hoped that when she and Michael married, that haunting sense of not belonging would be healed.  Together they would start a family, but sadly that was taken away from her with Michael’s death.  But what does Julia not talk about in the Zodiac Mysteries?  Her fears.  None of us can talk very lightly about our deepest fears.  Maybe we’re superstitious, as if talking about the things we fear will bring them about.  Julia fears her grandmother will die.  After all, everyone else has left her.  She knows logically that her grandmother will die someday, but it’s more than she can get her head around.

She fears she’ll be alone for the rest of her life.
She fears she’ll never fall in love again.
She fears she’ll make a terrible mistake with a client’s chart and make a wrong prediction.  That would destroy her reputation and her practice.
She fears her skills as an astrologer won’t help her prevent another disaster, like the death of her fiancé.
And she fears if she keeps sticking her nose in crime, she’ll die young.  Then she thinks, maybe that’s better than being alone and the last one left on earth.
She fears she’ll find out her parents weren’t the wonderful people her grandmother claims they were.  And most of all, she is still terrified of driving across the Bay Bridge.
Is that 10?  Oh, not quite.  One more thing — she absolutely loves bitter-sweet dark chocolate!

I hope you’ll get to know Julia even better in the books of the Zodiac Mysteries and tag along with her on her crime-solving adventures.  Don’t worry, she’s not going to talk about her fears, she’ll be following the clues and tracking down a murderer!  And hopefully entertaining you.

This post first appeared at Cheryl Loves to Read on July 20, 2018.