Illuminating and captivating, New York Times bestselling author of Tinseltown and Bogart offers the first definitive account of the Black Dahlia murder—the most famous unsolved true crime case in American history—which humanizes the victim and situates the notorious case within an anxious, postwar country grappling with new ideas, demographics, and technologies.
The brutal murder of Elizabeth Short—better known as the Black Dahlia—in 1947 has been in the public consciousness for nearly eighty years, yet no serious study of the crime has ever been published.
Short has been mischaracterized as a wayward sex worker or vagabond, and—like the seductive femme fatales of film noir—responsible for and perhaps deserving of her fate. William J. Mann, however, is interested in the truth. His extensive research reveals her as a young woman with curiosity and drive, who leveraged what little agency postwar society gave her to explore the world, defying draconian postwar gender expectations to settle down, marry, and have children. It’s time to reexamine the woman who became known as the Black Dahlia.
Using a 21st-century lens, Mann connects Short’s story to the anxious era after World War II, when the nation was grappling with new ideas, new demographics, new technologies, and old fears dressed up as new ones. Only by situating the Black Dahlia case within this changing world can we understand the tragedy of this young woman, whose life and death offer surprising mirrors on today.
Mann has strong opinions on who might’ve killed her, and even stronger ones on who did not. He spent five years sifting through the evidence and has found unknown connections by cross-referencing police reports, District Attorney investigations, FBI files, court documents, military records, and more, using the deep, intense research skills that have become his trademark. He also spoke with the families of the original detectives, of Short’s friends, and even of suspects, and relied on advice from experienced physicians and homicide detectives.
Mann deftly sifts through the sensationalized journalism, preconceived notions, myths, and misunderstandings surrounding the case to uncover the truth about Elizabeth Short like no book before. The Black Dahlia promises to be the definitive study about the most famous unsolved case in American history.
William J. Mann is a New York Times bestselling author of The Contender: The Story of Marlon Brando, for which he was granted access to Brando’s private estate archive, as well as Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn (named a Notable Book of the Year by the Times); Hello Gorgeous: Becoming Barbra Streisand (praised by USA Today for its “meticulous research and insightful analysis”); Edge of Midnight: The Life of John Schlesinger, for which he worked closely with the Oscar-winning director; and The Black Dahlia: Murder, Monsters, and Madness in Midcentury America. His book Tinseltown: Murder, Morphine and Madness at the Dawn of Hollywood won the Edgar Allan Poe Award. Mann is a professor of film and popular culture at Central Connecticut State University.
4.5 stars. I don't read a lot of true crime but if I do it's usually on Jack the Ripper, the Golden State Killer or the Black Dahlia murder, which I have a sort of connection to. In 1991, I was living in Westminster, CA when the yard behind my townhouse got dug up by cops with dogs and metal detectors, etc. - we watched it all weekend and didn't know what it was until we read the papers later and it was due to a "repressed memory" which was later discredited and they found nothing connected to this long cold case. But now I needed to know more so I've seen the movies, gone to the site & read a lot of the books about poor Elizabeth Short (some of the very first ones that I put into GR) So, this new book was a must read for me.
In "Black Dahlia: Murder, Monsters, and Madness in Midcentury Hollywood" we get a very deep dive into this case and also an attempt to humanize the young woman at the heart of the story. We learn about her life and what brought her west to L.A., her family and friends. We also learn about how the LAPD worked (or didn't) back in the late 40's and how the newspapers were often calling the shots and what a mess of the case was made by too many hands in it. There is also a good look at the leading suspects and a debunking of several that were suggested in more recent years. There are good source materials, photos of those involved and more. It's a very detailed and interesting look at a long-ago point in time and a young woman who never received justice. Highly recommend if you're into this or similar cases.
What an exhaustive review and analysis of the Black Dahlia case! I learned so much about Elizabeth Short, the police, the journalists, the suspects, and the families involved. I'd watched a documentary or two about the case but never got the insight into it - and the woman at the center of it - before now.
Such a huge book could have been dry and textbook-like but this wasn't. The author makes it feel like we're friends and he's telling a story. A very detailed story. And though the case hasn't been solved, there's so much to learn in the pages of this book. Real people who lived through it, or didn't...
I absolutely recommend this book for anyone who loves true crime.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for the ebook.
Though knowledgeable of the murder of Elizabeth Short, prior to reading W. Mann’s Black Dahlia, other than news reports here and there and watching short videos online, this reader has never read any long-form writing about this particular murder.
As for content, from the start, it is clear exactly what sort of true-crime book this one will be upon completion. It is not an easy read, full of titillating details or lurid photographs. It is instead a very in-depth and well-researched book centered around the murder of Elizabeth Short in Los Angeles, California, not long after the end of WWII.
Mann includes a study of America during this time to fully envelop and raise the needed societal textures for one to appreciate a serious book on Short and her murder. He describes America and its current culture as it has moved from a time of restriction, sacrifice, and wartime hardship to that of promise and an expectation of a golden American future going forward.
Mann does not turn Short into a figure once ill-defined by a frenzied media and thirsty America, but instead, into a three-dimensional woman whose life was unjustly ended and of a life deserving of justice that she and her loved ones never received.
This book is a careful and fair study of Elizabeth Short, her life, and America. It may not be of major interest to those in search of a treatise on what is believed to be a tawdry tale of lurid happenings and unfortunate sexuality, because that is what it is not.
Sadly, as most already know, there is no closure regarding the depraved person who victimized this woman, but instead, sincerely crafted pages that bring Short to life and most likely paint a truer picture of her, her life, and her untimely demise.
Black Dahlia by W. Mann is recommended to true crime readers who appreciate well-researched and richly detailed books upon factual events, rather than other books more present in the true-crime-like pulp writing genre.
Netgalley provided an ARC upon the promise of a fair review.
(ARC - out 01/27/26 via Simon & Schuster) An issue that I have with most true crime I’ve absorbed is the sanctimonious attitude the researcher/author/storyteller frequently approaches their investigation with. Their interest in the cases seems to have little to do with actually telling the victims’ stories or studying the societal conditions that lead to so many people living on the margins of society suffering the most from violent crime, but rather with the crimes themselves, the need to be the first to offer up new details, the lascivious nature that some consumers of true crime readily eat up. Saying that, I ended up being pleasantly surprised by how the author approaches the story of the black dahlia. The author truly does focus Elizabeth in this story, pushing aside the misogynistic narratives that clouded the case for decades, and interviewing Elizabeth’s friends and confidantes. He builds a picture of Elizabeth in a way that makes it all the more devastating when you know the conclusion. Elizabeth isn’t painted as a perfect saintly person, because no person is; she’s realized as a woman struggling to make ends meet and surviving in a hostile world, a woman who did not deserve to die, because no person does. This is extremely detailed, to the point where I found myself skimming at certain points, but it does put a more sympathetic, more human focus on a woman who is largely known for the violence of her death and the mythic nature of her life.
~ If you are a True crime fan like myself, then you will definitely want to read this one. After my friend @archie.loves.to.read brought this case to my attention, and we read Sisters in Death by Eli Frankel, I was interested in grabbing this one too. This gives a deep dive look into Elizabeth Short's life, who she was, and lots of information about the case. I thought it a really interesting read and definitely well researched.
Thank you to the publisher and netgalley for the gifted copy. All opinions are my own.
Elizabeth Short (I kind of wish that was the title). Remember her name. This book is a must read for any true crime fan or anyone who has an inkling of interest in the notorious story. William J Mann sets out to bring humanity back to the story and sifts through all the journalism , rumors, while gently holding the readers hand through it all. The story is long but Betty deserves that.
There are so many societal discussion points this book raises and i can't wait to discuss more after it's release and people are introduced to it. For now I'll say, the author succeeded in their objective to present the story whole, debunk along the way and educate the reader about such a layered story where journalists of the time never let the truth get in the way of a 'good' story (or headline).
A unique aspect of this true crime is the lack of photos within it, even of the detectives and main characters. I applaud this choice and hope it's not just a cause of having the ARC. I imagine the choice was made because Elizabeth's story has been sensationalized enough and honestly more true crime should follow suit. That is to say the autopsy and descriptions are still very graphic, so proceed with caution !
"Her life is still more important than her death" Thank you William J Mann, Simon & Schuster and netgalley for the ARC!
This is my first book by William J. Mann. The topic he chose for his book is one that has intrigued people for over a half-century. I first heard of the Black Dahlia aka Elizabeth Smart when watching a true crime doc on TV. As Mann points out in his book, Elizabeth Smart’s story differs depending upon who is telling it. Smart was not only a victim of a heinous crime, but she continues to be victimized in death by the misogynistic narrative perpetuated by the police and media. Mann attempts to right this wrong by gaining the perspectives of the people that actually knew her. In this very thoroughly researched and detailed book, we gain first hand accounts and facts about the case. While Elizabeth Smart’s murder was never solved, there is much to learn from this book. This book was very well written but occasionally redundant. I appreciated the author’s dedication to telling Elizabeth’s story. I have this book ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5. I look forward to more books by this author.
I received an Advance Copy of this book through NetGalley and Simon & Schuster, thank you for allowing me to read this book and give honest feedback.
I am a huge true crime fan and the Black Dahlia murder has always fascinated me. This is finally the case told from the perspective of Elizabeth Short's friend and family, those who knew her best. Not the speculative media or police.
This was written so well and so well researched. Nothing was left out. I feel like there was almost too much information, which in a criminal investigation is never a bad thing. I never found myself bored or disinterested.
I definitely want to read more from William J Mann as his writing style is excellent and very informative.
This book sent me through a rollercoaster of feelings. I have always been fascinated by the Black Dahlia case, and I was really excited to see what the book would cover. The first part of this book was honestly really good and different. We got the chance to follow Elizabeth Short's life before she died, and I loved getting to see her story being told. Then, in part 2, we started getting away from her story, but it was still interesting, and then in part 3, it really lost me, and I found it extremely hard to get through. I think the book was extremely well written, I just think the second and third parts could have had a lot of stuff left out!
Thank you, NetGalley and Simon & Schuster, for the advanced reader's copy!
More of a 3.5 star, but I'm rounding up because Mann always manages to make nonfiction interesting and I enjoy his writing style. After Tinseltown though, it was kind of jarring to see him focus on the victim and their life vs sensationalism of the crime itself. Maybe the extreme dehumanizing of E. Short in the media just really spoke to him while researching. It was definitely an interesting angle to look at the crime and investigation. It did get somewhat repetitive and I feel like he ignored some of the more popular suspects from over the years. Overall, fans of Mann will enjoy this and people who enjoy books about the Black Dahlia murder might find it interesting for its different approach.
Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for the eARC!
This was a thorough, objective, and in-depth look at Elizabeth Short, the investigation into her murder and the aftermath of the case years afterwards. I appreciated how the book opened with humanizing Betty and learning more about who she was.
Early in the morning of January 15, 1947, a pair of Los Angeles policemen were dispatched on a “possible 390 down” near the USC campus. Instead of finding an unconscious drunk on the vacant lot in the unusually cold dawn, they discovered the horribly mutilated body of a young woman, setting off a massive manhunt.
The dead woman was identified as Elizabeth Short, a 22-year-old who had come to the Los Angeles area from Massachusetts as part of a wandering path seeking a warm climate, an active social life, and perhaps fame as a model or actress; however, the reality of her life and death was quickly subsumed by the media’s sensationalizing of an already shocking crime, which they dubbed “The Black Dahlia Murder”.
William J. Mann here has set himself the task not to find the killer – which the police never did – but to find the victim under all the media hyperbole, police force infighting, and general hysteria over a series of murders of young women in the area which were neither connected to Short’s death nor, sadly, an unusually high number of killings in a city already more than a little punch-drunk with the aftermath of World War II.
Drawing on public and private sources, he examines Short’s history in Los Angeles, discovering a young woman who was neither the femme fatale that her media-generated title would suggest, nor a party girl in the traditional sense. Short was pretty, vivacious, and undoubtedly manipulative. She survived mostly on her wits, changing her background stories to elicit the most sympathy from casual acquaintances who would offer lodging, loans, and meals. She claimed to be looking for work as a model, but never made any visible attempt to do so, preferring instead to spend her days either at the beach or promenading through various areas of Los Angeles, window-shopping, being admired for her fashionable appearance, and cadging meals from gentlemen at various lunch counters. She dated often, changed boyfriends as often as she changed nylons, loved to dance, seldom drank, and even more seldomly indulged in sexual liaisons, despite her flirtatious manner and coterie of escorts. Mann makes the interesting point that such behavior from a charming, attractive, but feckless male of that age might have been considered “clever”, but coming from a woman, it hinted at something much less socially acceptable.
And though Mann tries very hard to keep Elizabeth Short at the front and center of the story, it’s a heavy lift. The history of post-war Los Angeles is as much a character as any of the named players. The sensation-seeking reporters from the four major LA dailies of the time cut favoritism deals with police, made up “quotes” from Short’s friends and family, witnesses, and even suspects, and fed on its own momentum, offering rewards that drew forth scores of false confessions – all of which investigators had to follow. The police department itself was in turmoil, moving responsibility for the investigation from one team to another, with the inevitable loss of information and follow-through. And it was all capped off by a publicity-seeking, self-styled “police psychiatrist” whose lack of formal education in the field did not for a moment keep him from developing a parallel investigation, selecting a likely suspect, and delivering him to the police who ultimately had to turn him loose for lack of evidence and in the face of a threatened civil lawsuit for false arrest.
No, Mann doesn’t conclude his definitive study of the most famous unsolved case in American history by standing up, pointing a finger, and saying “That’s the killer, right there!” He does build a compelling case for assigning guilt to one of the main suspects, though admits there was never any solid evidence on which to base charges, then turns around and speculates on something none of the investigators seem to have even considered.
Mann’s research here is meticulous, and his style keeps the people and events at arm’s length – an absolute necessity when dealing with the horrific details of the crime itself. The details of the murder are not for the faint of heart. He unbends only slightly at the conclusion, reminding readers that the tragedy was “it was her death, not her life, that people remember,” that “she was human, with all the faults, frailties, and inconsistencies of human beings,” and that “her life still mattered.”
William Mann's "Black Dahlia" s an interesting and informative (if gruesome) book. I don't read a lot of true crime, but this was definitely a good one to dive into. Mann's research is meticulous, and cleared up some misunderstandings I had regarding this cold case. To begin with, I was under the impression that Elizabeth Short was an actress; she was neither an actress nor a model, in fact she was a drifter, perhaps seeking to make her way in Los Angeles but not knowing how. I was also unaware of the details of her murder; horrific doesn't begin to describe it. Despite evidence to the contrary as found by the coroner, I hope she passed quickly. Elizabeth Short's murder has yet to be solved, it probably never will be. A major contributing factor to this is politics. Detectives in the LA Police Department spent hundreds of hours investigating, only to have the county Sherriff's department run roughshod over their investigation, tamper with evidence, pay off witnesses, and leave a grieving family without closure. Detectives Harry Hansen and Finis Brown are the heroes of this story: they gave their all despite the roadblocks the Sheriff's office placed in their way. That they never solved the case bothered them long after their retirement. I appreciate that Mann doesn't set out to solve this case. In his own words, this is an examination of Elizabeth Short's life, what may have led up to her death, and what happened after. He may have his own thoughts about who the culprit was, but he doesn't say. He lets his readers make their own decisions. I am also very grateful that William Mann doesn't engage in any victim blaming, as the press did all those years ago when Elizabeth Short was identified as the victim. He approaches Short's actions as a witness himself, describing the people she met and how she spent her time. He questions what may have made her make some of her decisions, but never once implies that her death was her own fault. It's a refreshing change. The world may never know who killed Elizabeth Short, but William Mann's "Black Dahlia" makes sure that it will never forget who she was.
A thoroughly researched book about the life and murder of Elizabeth Short. Most people familiar with her death know her as the Black Dahlia a misnomer that was one of many untruths still being told about this young woman.
Mann spends this book showing how damaging the misogyny of the 1940s, the extreme measures including bold face lies the newspapers used to sell their papers, and an overwhelmed police staff who may not have been corrupt but pressured to make bad judgment calls affects our understanding about Elizabeth Short.
So much of what we know about Short is based on lies and errors and the narrative told of her is terribly biased against women. The post-war 1946 era was full of so many problems especially LA and Mann is sure of providing a clear background of the social and economic and even mental troubles so many people faced and how that affects Short’s time in LA leading up to her murder.
The book is a treasure trove of factual information with backstories for almost every single person so we can learn who is worth listening to, people who are untrustworthy and any of important context really needed to sift through the complexity of Shorts life and the investigation of the murder.
He counter argues all the salacious claims and statements that don’t appear to be true be contextualizing each person and spending the first part of the book focused on building up an authentic view of Elizabeth / Beth / Betty. By learning who she was in a very non-biased but still humanized view, he lets the reader in as a expert beyond what pretty much any other person in the book including her friends, family and anyone who investigated the crime has. With this I knowledge he leads us though her story after death and showing all the problems her narrative has become while also really detailing what was happening behind the scenes that did cause the false stories about her and the drama surrounding the suspects and investigation.
Mann delves deep into side stories that enhance the knowledge of the investigation by examining angles and perspectives others haven’t but also by dismantling all the injustice done to Short by the media and sensationalism of her murder. As a result the book is a but dense and slow to get through it felt like a huge accomplishment to read 5% of the story at a time. And I was very vested in reading but there is a lot on the pages.
Elizabeth Short wasn’t a black dahlia and she wasn’t just a story. She was a real person who endured so much pain and trauma the last moments of her life for reasons we still don’t know. Does Mann help expose a new lead or even the murders? No but the intent of the book is to humanize Short and to reimagine her story in a truly honest way.
I think for this reason this is a must read for true crime fans because it’s sets the precedent needed for the care in storytelling some of the worst things any person could ever experience.
Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Shuster for providing an advanced copy. Thank you to Mann for writing an unbiased biography on Elizabeth and finally giving her story a proper perspective.
Black Dahlia, the first comprehensive account of Elizabeth Short’s 1947 unsolved murder, humanizes her as an ambitious young woman challenging postwar gender norms, rather than portraying her as a sensationalized victim. Through five years of exhaustive research, Mr Mann meticulously scrutinized police reports, FBI files, and interviews to debunk myths, investigate potential suspects, and contextualize the case within the anxious post-WWII America of societal transformation. The book prioritizes Ms Short’s life over her death, examining the reasons behind the enduring mystery. As an Edgar Award-winning professor, Mr Mann presents a prime suspect while offering cultural insights.
“Her life still mattered more than her death.” Black Dahlia: Murder, Monsters, and Madness in Midcentury Hollywood is the rare true-crime book that refuses to sensationalize its own story. William J. Mann peels back the Hollywood mythmaking to center Elizabeth Short as a real woman, not a headline. Meticulously researched, haunting, and quietly devastating, this is less “who did it?” and more “how did we let this happen?” A must-read for fans of smart, ethical true crime and old Hollywood history.
Many thanks to NetGalley, Simon & Schuster, and William J Mann for this ARC to review. All opinions are my own
4.25 stars. This was really well done and I love the focus on Elizabeth Short as a person and who she was outside of the Black Dahlia. I learned a lot and the information was presented in such a way that kept it entertaining and easy to comprehend. The discussion of the investigation is framed in a way that provides insight into society at the time and is not about trying to solve the case. I’ve never read a nonfiction book so quickly (that wasn’t a memoir).
I could not put this book down. Although it's dense with research, the writing is conversational and suspenseful, involving the reader in the investigation. I appreciated the author's empathy for the victim, and the lengths he goes to in order to contextualize her choices. Though the point of the book is not to try and identify the killer, he does include a chapter on what he thinks MAY have happened, which was both riveting and terrifying to read. Most people interested in this case will enjoy this book, as long as you go into it without the expectation of solving an 80-year-old cold case.
4.5*. Thorough account of Betty Short’s life and death. Still unsolved. 1947 murder and butchery of 22 year old woman. So Many different characters populate the book that it is hard to keep them all straight.
This book takes a different approach than other books on the subject of the murder. It develops her as a different type of person and attempts to make her more respectable. It is a detailed narrative of the months before the murder, but in the end is no more conclusive as to who did it. An interesting change of pace for those who are intrigued by the case.
Before opening William J. Mann’s meticulously researched examination of the Elizabeth Short murder, I expected the familiar noir narrative: a glamorous starlet, a shadowy Hollywood conspiracy, perhaps a brilliant surgeon-turned-killer stalking the palm-lined boulevards of 1940s Los Angeles. What I discovered instead was far more unsettling—the story of a nobody.
Elizabeth Short wasn’t a starlet. She wasn’t even a legitimate aspiring actress with headshots and an agent. She was a 22-year-old transient, bouncing between flophouses and bus stations, surviving on charm, hustle, and the occasional kindness of strangers in a city that chewed up thousands just like her. The “Black Dahlia” moniker—that seductive noir branding—was likely invented by reporters after her death, a marketing flourish to sell newspapers. To those who knew her, she was simply Betty. This gap between myth and reality is where Mann’s book does its most important work.
Mann’s greatest achievement is his restoration of Elizabeth Short’s humanity. Rather than perpetuating the media-constructed image of the “man-crazy” temptress or mysterious Hollywood figure, he presents a vulnerable young woman navigating an impossible landscape. His portrait is drawn from previously under-examined district attorney records, FBI files, and military documents—the kind of deep archival work that separates serious historical investigation from sensationalist speculation.
What emerges is a woman whose “aloofness”—often cited as evidence of her mysterious nature—was likely a survival mechanism. In a world where young women alone were constantly vulnerable to predatory men, keeping people at arm’s length, telling different stories to different acquaintances, and maintaining emotional distance weren’t character flaws. They were armor. To have survived as long as she did, essentially penniless and constantly mobile, required street smarts that contradict the “naive girl” narrative often applied to her.
Mann captures the exhausting reality of her existence: the cramped boarding house rooms, the shared bathrooms, the constant anxiety about next week’s rent, the hunger. This wasn’t the glamorous independence of a modern 22-year-old navigating entry-level jobs and roommate situations. This was 1947, when adulthood arrived earlier and harder, when communication meant expensive operator-assisted calls or postage stamps, when running out of money meant genuinely not knowing where you’d sleep that night.
Mann excels at atmospheric scene-setting, painting post-war Los Angeles not as a noir playground but as a city in chaotic transition. Thousands of demobilized soldiers and displaced war workers flooded California, chasing the promise of a golden American future after years of wartime sacrifice and rationing. The result was overcrowding, housing shortages, and a perfect hunting ground for predators who thrived in the anonymity of urban displacement.
His depiction of “Press Row”—the cutthroat rivalry between the Los Angeles Examiner and the Herald-Express—reveals a media ecosystem more interested in crafting mythology than reporting facts. Reporters routinely beat police to crime scenes, rearranged evidence for better photographs, and in one particularly cruel episode, tricked Elizabeth’s mother into a “scoop interview” about her daughter winning a beauty contest before revealing the girl was actually dead. The “Black Dahlia” wasn’t just a murder victim; she was a commodity, her death packaged and sold to a public hungry for lurid entertainment.
While the book’s title promises “Murder, Monsters, and Madness,” Mann’s most damning indictment isn’t of the unknown killer—it’s of the systems that failed Elizabeth Short in life and exploited her in death.
The LAPD comes across not as the sleek detective machine of noir fiction, but as a fragmented, ego-driven bureaucracy. Internal rivalries between the police department and Sheriff’s office led to withheld information and territorial squabbles. Investigators quickly judged Elizabeth’s character, viewing her as a “problem” or “drifter” rather than a victim deserving of justice. This tunnel vision led them to chase high-profile “surgical genius” theories that made headlines while potentially overlooking more mundane, probable suspects.
Mann methodically dismantles the famous theories that have dominated the case for decades. Dr. George Hodel—popularized by his son Steve Hodel’s books—is revealed as largely circumstantial, a “theatrical” villain born from a desire for a spectacular solution. Dr. Walter Bayley, the surgeon who lived near the dump site, is similarly cleared. The “Surrealist artist” connection—the idea that the body was posed as macabre artwork—is dismissed as projection, another attempt to make the murder fit a more interesting narrative than random violence.
By systematically exonerating these famous suspects, Mann redirects focus toward a more disturbing possibility: the killer was likely ordinary. Not a genius. Not famous. Just a dangerous man in the right place at the wrong time.
Mann’s most credible suspect is Marvin Margolis, a medical student who represents the intersection of opportunity, knowledge, and anonymity. Unlike the high-society doctors who make for better stories, Margolis had just enough anatomical training from his studies to know where to cut, existed on the fringes of the same transient world Elizabeth navigated, and fit the profile of someone she might have encountered during her daily survival hustle.
But Mann stops short of declaring the case definitively solved—a restraint that actually strengthens the book’s argument. By positioning Margolis as the most likely type of suspect rather than the certain culprit, Mann acknowledges the limitations of 80-year-old evidence while making a larger point about the nature of urban violence. Elizabeth Short’s murder may have been committed by Margolis, or by someone exactly like him—a predator hiding in plain sight among the thousands of nameless, transient individuals moving through bus stations, diners, and cheap hotels in midcentury Los Angeles.
This conclusion is more terrifying than any conspiracy theory because it’s statistically true: most murders of this nature are committed by recent acquaintances, not masterminds. Elizabeth was killed not because of who she was, but because of what she was—vulnerable, alone, and beneath the notice of a society that only cared about her once she was dead and marketable.
This is not an easy read. Mann avoids the titillating photographs and lurid speculation that characterize much true crime writing. His prose is analytical, thoughtful, and often somber. He engages readers directly, guiding them through complex and contradictory evidence with an approach that treats the investigation as a serious intellectual endeavor rather than entertainment.
The result is not a thriller but a social history—an examination of the fear, anger, and despair of post-war America, and the ways systemic failures and media manipulation allowed a brutal crime to remain unsolved while simultaneously erasing the victim’s actual humanity. Black Dahlia: Murder, Monsters, and Madness in Midcentury Hollywood matters because it gives Elizabeth Short back her life. Not the glamorous, mysterious life invented by newspapers, but the real one—exhausting, precarious, and ultimately cut short by violence that no amount of “aloofness” or street smarts could have prevented.
This book is highly recommended for readers who appreciate deeply researched, richly detailed true crime that prioritizes historical context and victim dignity over sensationalism. It won’t satisfy those seeking tawdry tales or neat solutions, but for anyone interested in understanding not just what happened to Elizabeth Short, but why her murder resonated so powerfully and what that says about American society.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Black Dahlia: Murder, Monsters, and Madness in Midcentury Hollywood, by William J Mann, works to both humanize Elizabeth Short as well as put the entire unsolved case into the context of that particular time and place. For the most part Mann succeeds quite well.
What I appreciate about this book, and others that do the same for other cases, is the avoidance of sensationalistic writing and exploitation. The parts that come closest are really just pointing out how the case was covered in the press and tabloids and the continued willingness of people to milk Short's death for podcast after podcast and other morbid activities under the guise of "true crime aficionado." Yes, Mann is making his buck off the case too, but put in the legwork to understand the victim and do considerably less screwball speculating just to get clicks before coming up with another scheme to profit off of a person's death.
That isn't to say he doesn't posit a suggestion but I don't know how serious it was since it seems like it has already been investigated and dismissed. There was nothing new that convinced me his possible culprit was the one.
In addition to less sensationalism I think what makes this an enjoyable read, unless you prefer sensationalism, is how the environment in LA at the time contributed to both the opportunity for such crimes and the likelihood that such crimes would go unsolved. In this way it is also about Hollywood/Los Angeles as a character in the story.
It has been almost 80 years since the murder and even with the additional research Mann did there is only so much we can truly know about Elizabeth Short as a human being. No doubt some of his speculation may not be perfect, but it still helps to think about the why of what she was doing rather than viewing every act she did as something directly related to her death. She was a young woman who made a decision to try to break into modeling or acting and found herself in a harsh environment and tried to survive. Some will simply blame her for what happened, that isn't uncommon, especially when the victim is a woman not conforming to what some might think she should be doing. Technically, every crime can be blamed on the victim if you want to say that by living their lives they put themselves in that place at that moment. Funny though how it is usually only given voice when it is a woman. There is a difference in acknowledging all of the little things that contributed to a crime, distributing responsibility minutely over every little action of every person, and in blaming someone. To the extent there is actual blame, that rests solely with the murderer. Nothing she did makes her the one to blame.
I would recommend this to true crime readers who want some kind of humanity in their true crime, who care about the victim as a person and not just every gory detail of the crime. Like many of us, you have probably read other books, listened to podcasts, watched documentaries, and maybe even tried to organize all of the information logically to see if it might make some kind of new sense. There will be some new information here for you, but mostly you will learn about the person Elizabeth Short and the environment in which she was trying to survive and which ultimately contributed to both her murder and the inability to solve the crime.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.
I was hoping this new novel would bring more conclusive and previously undivulged information that would suggest closure in this very cold, but interesting case. The author certainly spent a good deal of time doing his research, working up a picture of Elizabeth Short's brief life in Los Angeles leading up to her murder. But so many of those who came to know Elizabeth in LA are long gone, and the information gathered appears to have been second or third hand from surviving family members or friends who might or might not have remembered information that was factually correct. But at least we do get a picture of this woman's brief existence in LA before her death. There is however, a lot (and I repeat, a lot), of background information about too many players that seemed wholly unnecessary and I found myself skipping paragraphs and then pages.
Elizabeth is presented to us as a naive and impulsive young woman from a small town in Massachusetts who arrives in Los Angeles almost penniless, but with a dream of becoming a model. Unfortunately she has no real understanding of how to achieve that goal. And, the more I read, the more I struggled not to be judgmental. Elizabeth gets to LA in what appears to have been a period of significant crime and exposes herself to the invitation for a crime to be perpetrated against her by her chosen lifestyle. She has no idea of how to live on her own and never manages to support herself by getting a job. She lives on the street and spends her days wandering around window shopping, or sitting in the seats of local cafes hoping to snag some simple soul who will provide her with a roof over her head for the night, or a free meal. She falls into a pattern of a reliance on others and regrettably, and for the most part, those others were a lot of men she met on the street or in those cafes. She seemed particularly attracted to servicemen returning home from WWII. Elizabeth Short was an accident waiting to happen.
While the author believes Elizabeth was not a "professional" sex worker, he also seems to suggest she was not offering sexual favors in exchange for places to sleep for the night or a free meal. I find that difficult to believe. She is characterized as canny and intelligent enough to manipulate her benefactors and she certainly managed to turn one night stays into weeks or months with the seriously gullible. But her manner of choice of day to day survival seems to suggest to me that perhaps she was canny and manipulative, but not particularly intelligent.
In the end, Elizabeth was a victim of her own life choices and superbly unlucky in her final choice of a companion of the moment. The perpetrator she met on that fateful day was no ordinary man, but a true psychopath with a serious case of misogynistic hatred. The sick things done to her body after her death show that clearly enough. Sadly, although it was interesting to get a picture of this young woman's life before her untimely death, I found her superbly irritating. And, I sense no closure from the book. I don't necessarily agree with the author's suggestion of a possible suspect. I came away with a strong feeling that this crime was not perpetrated by someone Elizabeth had fouled or offended. It seems to smack of a crime of opportunity by a seriously sick individual.
BLACK DAHLIA references the old "Dragnet" radio show (later, of course, to be a TV show, and then a Dan Ackroyd vehicle, which was bad enough to keep anyone from revising it) and this is, for the most part, a book that would warm the cockles of Joe Friday's heart. Author William J. Mann is about sifting what facts we have about Elizabeth Short from the considerable pile of fiction created in the wake of her brutal, unsolved murder. Following in the tradition of Gerald Posner's CASE CLOSED, Mann follows Short on her will-o-the-wisp wanderings through Southern California, tracing the erratic path that led to her miserable end, alone, naked and bisected in a Los Angeles vacant lot.
To the extent that Mann follows the just-the-facts-ma'am approach, BLACK DAHLIA is a winner, pasting together a sympathetic biography of Short, who spent her last months jobless and effectively homeless, dependent on the kindness of strangers. It was an aimless existence, punctuated by various on-again, off-again relationships (all of which would come back to plague said strangers, who would be transmuted into suspects soon enough).
Unlike Posner's retelling of Lee Harvey Oswald's life (which is extraordinarily well-documented), Mann frequently has to throw up his hands and explain, hey, we just don't know what Elizabeth Short was doing sometimes--not least because she was a bit of a fabulist herself. Faced with this central difficulty, Mann retreats into sociology, lecturing at length about post-war Los Angeles and other contemporaneous goings-on. (I will admit that at one point, I shook my head and asked, "Exactly why is he going on about Paul Robeson?") There is also, unavoidably, a good bit here about the yellow press, who were not only embedded in the case up to their eyeballs, but who immortalized Short by giving her a nickname that has resounded through the ages. (Apparently there was a movie out called "The Blue Dahlia," and Short had black hair, and that did it.)
Mann also sporadiacally adopts the first-person-plural approach here, which also detracts from the more clinical approach--it's more than a bit off-putting, as he comes across as chummy and ingratiating when he does it, and it's unnecessary. What Mann does most effectively is critiquing the LAPD when the investigation goes off-track, cataloguing an almost-unbelievable set of circumstances that kicks off with a letter from a nutball and ends up with the complete b0llixing-up of the case by the lead psychiatrist.
The other primary drawback in Mann's analysis is that he can't get hold of certain facts about the investigation, especially those regarding his primary suspect--the LAPD still has the case open and won't share its case file, and the FBI stonewalled a FOIA request for what appears to be no good reason. Again, Mann has to throw his hands up here; the drawback of just-the-facts-ma'am is that you don't have all the facts. But he has assembled the facts that we do have into a coherent, readable, and compelling narrative, and power to him.
In The Black Dahlia, William Mann writes in depth about Elizabeth Short—also known as the Black Dahlia—and humanizes her in ways that many podcasters and popular retellings have missed.
I was first drawn to learn more about Beth after hearing about her gruesome murder on a podcast years ago. While I genuinely enjoy the people who produce that show, I was alarmed by how little was known about her and how easily the narrative leaned into sensationalism. Much of the focus centered on her supposed “promiscuity,” while very little attention was given to who she actually was as a person.
Mann approaches Beth differently. Through his research and storytelling, it becomes clear that she was kind, complex, and deeply interested in having agency over her own life. She took risks that many women in America at the time were discouraged, or outright prevented, from taking. At just twenty-two, she moved to California alone. After being rejected by her father, she remained there, moving between Long Beach, my hometown, and Los Angeles, trying to build a life on her own terms.
I don’t agree with all of her choices, but I also don’t feel judgment toward her either. We have to remember she was navigating life alone and only twenty-two years old. What happened to her should not have been. No matter her actions, she did not deserve to be murdered. Most importantly for me, Mann challenges two of the most persistent myths: that Beth was an aspiring actress or a sex worker. These labels have been repeated so often in headlines and true-crime media that they have become accepted as fact, despite lacking solid evidence.
Mann paints such a vivid and intimate portrait of Beth that, at times, reading the autopsy reports and details of the investigation became genuinely frightening. The contrast between who she seemed to be in life and how she was treated in death is deeply unsettling. While Mann does explore potential suspects, nothing is presented as definitive. Like me, he leaves space for the possibility that her killer may not have been someone in her inner circle—or even someone she knew at all. Sometimes, terrible acts are committed by strangers.
I am saddened by Beth’s death and appalled by the LAPD’s handling of her case. Decades later, she remains without justice. Still, I hope that through books like Mann’s, Elizabeth Short can at least be remembered with dignity—as a young woman with hopes, flaws, tenderness, and autonomy, rather than as a sensationalized symbol of violence.
One small critique: a visual key or timeline would have helped readers stay oriented. There are many key players, detectives, and shifting lists of suspects, and at times it becomes difficult to keep track of who is who. The book is dense and not one to rush through. Take your time with it. It’s important that you truly get to know her.
May Beth, despite everything, be resting in peace.
Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC. All opinions are my own.
The horrific murder of 22-year-old Elizabeth Short in 1947, one of the nation’s most fascinating and disturbing unsolved crimes, has grown into the stuff of legend. She came to be known as the Black Dahlia and a symbol of the supposed postwar crisis of morality. But in BLACK DAHLIA, William J. Mann unpacks the myths and realities, the evidence and the headlines surrounding this case in search of not the murderer, but the victim.
It is unclear when Short earned her unfortunate nickname, but it certainly was not given to her by anyone who really knew her. It is possible, even likely, that the sobriquet was offered only by the media after her death. In many news reports, she was described as a femme fatale --- dressed in sheer black clothing, prowling the streets of Los Angeles, spending time with one man after another. In reality, Short was a young woman adrift. She had left her mother and sisters back in Medford, Massachusetts, seeking opportunities, adventure and the warm weather in California.
Short’s plans in California were uncertain, but what is known is that she ended up relying on the support of strangers. Meals were often paid for by men she met at restaurants, and women she quickly became friends with offered her places to stay. She was often without her own belongings for various reasons and didn’t seem to earn a paycheck. She told a few different versions of her own biography, including tales about engagements, marriages, children, boyfriends and more. Mann’s account of Short is compelling and interesting apart from her death and the thwarted investigation.
But, of course, what people have long been interested in is Short’s murder, not her life. This concerns Mann, who does a great job introducing her to readers as a living and complicated young woman. If you are not familiar with the details of her death, he will fill you in. In addition, Mann examines the years-long case to find her killer with all its false leads, bogus confessions and media falsehoods that impacted the quest for justice. The context and cultural norms and challenges of midcentury America, especially for women and veterans, are also important in the story of the Black Dahlia, and Mann does excellent work here.
BLACK DAHLIA is a propulsive and heartbreaking read. Short was an enigmatic young woman --- maybe hapless, perhaps calculating, but far from the hypersexual harlot she has always been portrayed as. Mann doesn’t shy away from her faults and bad decisions, but he never revictimizes her by blaming her for the terrible fate that befell her. The book is well researched and written, sometimes shocking, and always crafted with Short's humanity at the forefront.
Despite its subtitle, “Murder, Monsters, and Madness in Midcentury Hollywood,” the book is indeed about Elizabeth Short and captures the United States in a time of upheaval, transformation, confusion and possibility. It’s a terrific addition to the true crime genre.
As someone who has been fascinated by the Black Dahlia case since moving to Los Angeles as a teenager, and an avid true crime reader, I can honestly say this is the book on the case I’ve been hoping would be written for years. Black Dahlia is the first treatment of Elizabeth Short’s story that feels both serious and deeply human. William J. Mann approaches the case not as a lurid mystery to sensationalize, but as a meticulously researched portrait of a young woman whose life—and tragic death—have too often been reduced to myth.
Mann’s work stands out for its compassion and rigor. He brings Elizabeth to life as a real person: ambitious, flawed, and full of longing, rather than a tabloid caricature. His careful attention to her family, particularly her strong and resilient mother, adds emotional depth and context that’s rarely found in true crime. The book also examines the social climate of 1940s Los Angeles—the bureaucratic dysfunction, the media circus, and the pervasive misogyny that shaped both the investigation and its public narrative.
This isn’t a book for readers looking for a fast-paced, sensational “whodunit.” Mann doesn’t claim to solve the murder, but he does make compelling, evidence-based arguments that help rule out certain suspects while providing a sobering look at how the case was mishandled and why. Occasionally, the detail can feel dense, but it’s a small trade-off for the clarity and fairness he brings to such a mythologized crime.
My only wish is that the finished book might include photographs or visual materials—especially given how powerfully the story evokes time and place.
Black Dahlia separates fact from fiction in the best possible way—thoughtful, respectful, and unflinching. For readers who want substance over spectacle, and for anyone tired of exploitative takes on this case, this is essential reading. I don’t give five stars lightly, but this book was a wonderful surprise.
Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for the opportunity to read an advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
Thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for the digital copy of this book; I am leaving this review voluntarily. Content warning: Graphic descriptions of mutilated body!
I remember watching a documentary about the Black Dahlia murder some years ago, and instead of focusing on who could have killed Elizabeth Short, they focused on the false narrative of who the public believed she was as well as the details of her gruesome murder. This year has seen two books being published about the unsolved murder; I have already reviewed one book, (click here for review) and now I’m tackling a forthcoming book, Black Dahlia: Murder, Monsters and Madness.
One of the good thing about both of these books, but especially this one, is that readers get a clearer picture of WHO Elizabeth was instead of WHAT HAPPENED to her. Back in 1947 and the years since the murder, she has been portrayed as a Hollywood starlet, a “loose” woman, etc. These misogynistic attempts at victim-blaming have worked, yet William J. Mann breaks down those misconceptions bit by bit. Elizabeth Short was not a saintly woman, but that does not mean she “got what she deserved,” which has been the sexist narrative for almost eight decades.
I appreciated the author’s attempts to remain objective and present the list of major suspects in Short’s murder and let the reader decide who could have possible killed her in such a brutal way. However, despite claiming objectivity and a “I’m just presenting the facts,” there are a few times where the author comes right out and says, let’s take this guy off the suspect list. So, no, this is not a totally objective book, but it’s the closest thing I’ve seen regarding the Black Dahlila case.
If you say that the murder of Elizabeth Short is one of the most notorious cold cases in US history I would hazard a guess that most people would be confused. Say “the Black Dahlia” and you would get a different reaction. This is indicative of what happened to Elizabeth: a horrific tragedy was turned into a legend, suited for tabloid journalism. The real young woman behind the moniker became lost to time, her short life turned into myth.
I have read several books about this case, each with a different theory about what happened. The latest is Black Dahlia: Murder, Monsters, and Madness in Midcentury Hollywood, by William J. Mann. What makes this one different is the lens in which Mann views the facts. Taking into account the societal changes, and especially the social, cultural, and psychological aspects of gender, this is a fresh approach to viewing Elizabeth’s life and the lives of those affected by her fate. Mann uses this lens to analyze the actions of the police force as well as of the journalists. This makes for a much more nuanced, humane look at everyone involved. Mann has written this with the greatest empathy for the victims and survivors of the many events of these turbulent post-war years.
Perhaps that makes this sound like a textbook, but it most definitely is not. It is beautifully written and well-researched. There is new (to me) information that makes me think that the author is on to something. Even though this crime will probably never be solved, at least this book humanizes Elizabeth. I would highly recommend it to those interested in post-war history, the history of Hollywood, and true crime.
Thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for letting me read this in exchange for an honest review