Lawman Turned Capitalist
When you come across a historical document that relates some previously unknown exploits of Wyatt Earp during his years living in San Diego, you take notice. Such was the case with my discovery of the manuscript for The Deadly Stingaree, which will be published in November 2025.
Earp is one of the most famous and mythologized lawmen in American history. But by the time he arrived in San Diego in the late 1880s, he’d hung up his badge and was pursuing less dangerous and more lucrative occupations. San Diego was growing at a phenomenal rate and a rampant business in land speculation was underway. Earp purchased and owned at least a dozen properties in the city including stables, office buildings, gambling halls and saloons. He listed his occupation as “Capitalist” in the local directory.
The author of The Deadly Stingaree is Johnathan Cong, a fourteen-year-old Chinese orphan who, with a bit of luck and a entrepreneurial savvy, makes friends with the former lawman. Earp admires the young man’s ambition and engages him to provide laundry services for the bordello upstairs from Earp’s gambling hall. There’s more to the story as Earp teams up with the young Cong and some other historical San Diegans to investigate a potential plot against President Benjamin Harrison during the president’s visit to San Diego in April 1891.
Fact or fiction? It’s hard to say. Earp would have been 43 years old in 1891. The real estate boom had turned into a bust. Earp lost money and he and his wife Josie began looking for opportunities elsewhere. There are reasons to doubt his part in this story, but there is enough historical evidence to believe it as well.
The Deadly Stingaree also describes a boxing match held in the bullring in Tijuana, Mexico, in which Earp serves as the referee. There is some historical context for this as well. Earp refereed at least 30 boxing matches during his life, the most famous of which was Fitzsimmons vs. Sharkey in San Francisco in 1896. Earp awarded the victory to Sharkey on a technicality, leading many in the crowd to believe the match was fixed. The cartoon below ran in newspapers later that week.
I’ll have more to say about The Deadly Stingaree and its historic veracity in the coming weeks, but you may have to read it yourself to decide.
The Deadly Stingaree
I’m publishing a new book this Fall. It’s a different sort of mystery story than I’ve ever published before. It’s not even really mine. That’s all I’m saying for now, but here’s a little teaser info. More information to follow in coming months.
April 23, 1891. San Diego, CA. A presidential visit. A secret plot against the United States. This recently discovered manuscript tells the remarkable story of a fourteen-year-old Chinese orphan and his notable friends—a notorious gunslinger, a crusading female attorney, and the world’s greatest detective—who saved the president and the union that day.
A Vintage Vinyl Surprise
I’ve kept a box of old records in my closet for the last 45 years. It’s moved with me to at least 8 different times. Here’s a photograph of some records that were in that box.
See the guy second from the left sporting the debonair mustache? That’s me! And this is the 45 rpm record my band The P-15s released in 1980. You’re Not That Girl on the A side with Elevator Boy on the B side. Sales were not exactly spectacular and I ended up with a box of the remainders. I’ve given away a few copies over the years but I’ve held onto to the bulk of them through thick and thin. Apparently I’m the only member of the band to do so.
I’ve sold a few copies to collectors over the years, including one to a young lady from Japan who insisted that the A side You’re Not That Girl was her very favorite record. But I never expected there would be any substantial market for them. As a general rule I don’t like hanging on to old stuff, but I held on to these like they were lost treasure (I should point out here that I still have all the songwriting and writing notebooks I’ve kept since high school).
So imagine my surprise and delight when I found out these records were considered collectible. I was contacted by a vintage vinyl dealer who was interested in buying as many of my records as I was willing to sell. We traded a few emails and came to a deal. He paid me via PayPal, sent me a box and I packed up the records according to instructions. They’re in his hands now.
Selling the records won’t make me rich, but they were worth more than I expected. But what I’m really happy about is knowing that my old records will find new homes with collectors who appreciate them as much, or even more, than I do.
And for anyone who’s curious, here’s the songs:
Oh, Canada!
How I Spent My Summer Vacation
We recently spent ten days exploring western Canada by rail, bus, and just hanging out. It was quite an adventure with some spectacular scenery. Our northernmost stop was at Jasper National Park where we stayed at the historical Jasper Park Lodge.
I’m sure more than one detective fiction author has stayed at the lodge over the years, but it was fun to discover I was walking in the footsteps of the creator of the world’s most famous fictional private detective, Sherlock Holmes. It seems that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and his family visited Jasper over a hundred years ago. This photo was posted in a hallway of the lodge.
I haven’t mentioned this publicly yet, but my next novel will be a Holmesisan adventure, set in San Diego in 1891 (during The Great Hiatus). This fleeting connection to Sir Doyle felt like a small validation of my efforts.
Here’s some more photos from the trip for those who are interested.
New Song – Club 88
I remember the waitress at Club 88
On Pico and Granville 1978
I’ve had this song on the back burner for a while and I’m glad to say it’s finally finished. Lyrically, it’s about a time long ago in a faraway land (OK, Los Angeles in the late 1970s). Musically it’s a bit retro as well, as I wanted to recreate a 1980s power pop sound that fit the era.
Club 88 was a nightclub in Santa Monica that, for a few short years, was a popular venue for the punk, power pop and new wave bands that sprung up in the LA music scene of the late 1970s and early 80s. My band, The P-15s, played there often, along with bands such as The Lies, Daily Planet, X, The Blasters, The Motels, the Go-Gos, and too many others to name. We opened for John Hiatt soon after he signed with MCA. And I ate at the Mexican restaurant across the street with Bill Bateman and Dave Alvin of The Blasters and Lux Interior and Poison Ivy of The Cramps.
I’m not sure if it’s my advancing age or the current state of the world that brought this song on, but it was fun to escape back in time for this musical moment. A bit of nostalgia, name dropping and naughtiness. And all of it is true.
I remember the waitress at Club 88
On Pico and Granville 1978
Budweiser in bottles was what we all drank
Back then, back then
We were boys with guitars playing songs that we wrote
In a dingy apartment with smoke in our throats
A friend knew a friend who worked at Capitol Records
Back then, back then
Grab your guitar and sing that sweet melody
For the working girls
Today and tomorrow will soon be a memory
Don’t forget the working girl
Don’t forget the working girl
New wave and punk bands were breaking the law
Exene was drinking her beer with a straw
That waitress was keeping an eye on us all
Back then, back then
The Go-Gos and Blasters were playing one night
At a table up front someone started a fight
She dipped like Ginger Rogers and kicked like Bruce Lee
Back then, back then
Grab your guitar and sing that sweet melody
For the working girls
Today and tomorrow will soon be a memory
Don’t forget the working girl
Don’t forget the working girl
Turn off the amplifiers
Turn out the lights
The music’s over
Come back another night
Another night
Another night
Another night
Christmas was coming, I sat at the bar
Early one evening before the show started
I asked for a chance, she laughed and she danced
Back then, back then
Then the boys from the bands, like wise men arrived
Bearing gifts for the girl who put stars in their eyes
She was everyone’s friend and nobody’s fool
Back then, back then
So grab your guitar and sing that sweet melody
For the working girls
Every tomorrow will soon be a memory
Don’t forget the working girls
Don’t forget the working girls