first appeared in book form in a thin leaflet in tan-colored wrappers in 1843 for 12½ cents. —THE PROSE ROMANCES OF EDGAR A. POE IT was a crisp night. A tall, good-looking young man walked into the HOJ and admitted strangling a woman in a hotel room. “I want you to hang me,” he said matter-of-factly. His voice was calm, well-modulated, and he was neatly dressed. Inspector Alvin Corrasa looked up from his desk and into his pale blue eyes. The man was not drunk. “No, I mean it,” he said. “Get it over as soon as possible please. I’ve killed a girl in a hotel, strangled her with my bare hands, and I’ve come to turn myself in.” A strangling? In a hotel? Dullea would be interested, but first—“Show us where.” Corrasa and his partner, William Stanton, followed the young man to 840 California Street between Powell and Stockton streets. It was not far from Nob Hill and offered a splendid view of the Bay. Inside the room, they followed a trail of clothes—a blue wool sweater, pink slip, silk underwear, and a pair of brown slacks, which led to a folding in-a-door bed.
