Gone at Midnight. Jake Anderson
for some (at one point garnering 70,000 organic Google searches a month on top of the feverishly viral social media activity). My analysis of this response suggests a sociological component to the case that involves analysis of pathology, conspiracy theories, identity, and the desire for meaning in the Internet age.
Elisa’s story also has ramifications for criminal justice and the burgeoning websleuth movement.
My methodology throughout this journey has been simple but painstaking. I only formed conclusions based on facts or the debunking of falsehoods; I avoided confirmation bias in support of my hypotheses and continually revised these hypotheses after faithfully following the trail of facts and evidence; I let analysis of the facts lead the narrative and not the other way around; I aimed for transparency where possible (though several of my sources requested to remain anonymous out of fear of retribution); and I used primary materials as much as possible.
On a logistical note, the Cecil Hotel is referenced hundreds of times in the book. Though the hotel was renamed Stay On Main earlier this decade, I decided to stick with its original name to avoid confusion.
I plan to use a portion of the proceeds earned from this book for donations to the Lam family as well as to several cutting-edge mental health research and advocacy groups.
PART 1
DISCOVERY
That’s the thing about potential; it was so close, what could have been but didn’t happen and will never happen. The events did not line up perfectly. And it breaks your heart.
Fear of death is very silly to me. I am reassured that death is something that all things before me and all things after me will go through. When it comes, I will know what it is. I just hope for a chance to say my goodbyes.
I am more scared of going before my time, without having lived a full and meaningful life. —ELISA LAM
CHAPTER 1
Missing
ON A SUNNY, WARM WINTER DAY in Los Angeles, during one of the most historic and tumultuous weeks in LAPD history, detectives ushered a grieving family before a hungry press corps that had assembled at the downtown precinct. Six days earlier, a Chinese-Canadian student, Elisa Lam, vanished from the Cecil Hotel while vacationing alone. The police had since searched the building twice and canvassed the neighborhood; now they beseeched anyone who might have pertinent information to come forward.
Shortly after this press conference, though, the LAPD cut off the flow of all incoming and outgoing information regarding the case. Looking back years later, their plea for a synergistic relationship between law enforcement and the citizenry carries an ironic, disingenuous tone.
Detective Walter Teague of the Robbery and Homicides Division, looking appropriately grave, led the press conference, the ostensible purpose of which was to enlist the public’s help in finding the twenty-one-year-old Elisa. A posterized photograph erected next to the podium featured her in autumn colors flashing an ebullient smile, cascading, obsidian hair swept over one shoulder, her eyes gazing out from behind thick-rimmed glasses.
With an anxious and unsettled air, Teague outlined what the police knew so far. Elisa was last seen on January 31, 2013. She had verbally checked in with her parents every day while on her solo “West Coast Tour” of California, but on February 1 she didn’t call. And they hadn’t heard from her since. Nor had anyone. No texts. No calls. All communication—including Elisa’s prolific social media posts and blog entries—had abruptly ceased. Her parents reported her missing and flew with their eldest daughter from Vancouver, Canada, to Los Angeles to assist with the search.
Flanking Teague, the family looked ashen and devastated, their body language melting downward in the panicked countenance of loved ones who know something has gone horribly wrong.
The day before the press conference, on the sixth of February, the LAPD had posted flyers around the neighborhood.
“Lam is described as an Asian woman of Chinese descent,” the flyer stated. “She has black hair, brown eyes and stands five feet four inches tall. She weighs about 115 pounds. Lam is fluent in English and also speaks Cantonese.”
It concluded with a directive telling people to contact the LAPD with information.
Teague told reporters that Cecil Hotel management had confirmed Elisa was booked for four nights and scheduled to check out on February 1, the morning she disappeared. They also confirmed that Elisa was last seen by hotel employees in the lobby, shortly after returning from The Last Bookstore with gifts she bought for her family.
Police believed Elisa intended to travel to Santa Cruz next, but they were still piecing together the timeline of her travels.
Lead Detective Wallace Tennelle noted that particular attention was being paid to the case because it involved a foreign national.
“We’ve had some tips come in, not many, but nothing that has proven to be her,” Tennelle stated. “Some sightings, but they proved not to be her.”
When later asked about the nature of the investigation, he said, “We’re just investigating whatever personal habits she may have. And trying to follow up on where she was headed to or what she wanted to see. Like the murders that I investigate, they may grow cold but we don’t close them. I’m pretty sure that’s the same with missings, we don’t close them out.”
Tennelle, whose own son was murdered in cold blood only a few years earlier, mentioned that he was keeping Lam’s family updated with their progress. “We can’t give them everything we have but we do try to keep them in the loop as to what’s going on.”
In the preceding days, the LAPD had set up a command post in the lobby of the Cecil Hotel, where they deployed numerous search teams who were paired with a hotel employee with access to a master key. This effort produced an “extensive and exhaustive search of the entire hotel, including the roof.” The search lasted several days, but did not turn up any substantial evidentiary clues as to Elisa’s location.
A second search was conducted, this time with a K9 unit attached. Again, the entire hotel was searched, “every nook and cranny,” including the roof. Again, police obtained zero clues.
Finally, after a full week had elapsed since Elisa was last seen, the LAPD turned in desperation to the public. In an age when milk carton photos have been replaced by social media hashtags and online web-sleuth forums, word spread quickly that the notorious Cecil Hotel—known by locals as the “Suicide Hotel”—was at the heart of another potentially dark mystery.
Not even Aleister Crowley himself could have predicted how much darker it was about to become.
MISSING PERSONS
Teague looked worried. YouTube users commenting on an uploaded video of the press conference remarked that he sounded like he wanted to cry. Indeed, with a grief-stricken family behind him, the emotional burden must have been heavy.
I’ve always wondered what detectives say to families when a loved one is missing. What can be said? I doubt it plays out like in the movies, where a steely-eyed detective tells the parents, “I’ll find her, I promise.”
Los Angeles has had its fair share of missing persons. For a city that prides itself on visibility, hubris, and conspicuous consumption, the rate of disappearance is staggering. According to the Missing Persons Unit (MPU), approximately 3,900 adult Missing Person (M/P) reports are filed annually. “Approximately 80 percent of all reported missing persons are found or voluntarily return within 48 to 72 hours.” That still leaves hundreds of people who disappear from Los Angeles each year, never to be found again.
There are around 750,000 cases reported annually in the U.S. and in the majority of them, the person is found. However, many are not. Over the last few decades, hundreds of thousands of people have vanished from the face of the earth.
On its website, the Los Angeles Police Department lists the following most common reasons for a Missing Person report: mental illness, depression,