Dateline>City of Angels

Though it happened nearly eight decades ago, Beverly Hills officials make it their policy not to discuss the tragedy of Greystone Manor. They’re even less inclined to acknowledge the numerous ghost tales surrounding the property. Off the record, however, many familiar with the estate have plenty to say about eerie lights and gruesome visages in the windows, along with weird apparitions, strange thuds and shrill cries in the mansion’s dark, abandoned halls.

For a few brief months, this was the home of Ned Doheny, his wife Lucy, and their five children — a $4-million piece of luxury California real estate second in its day only to San Simeon’s flamboyant Hearst Castle. A gift from Ned’s wealthy but controversial father, Edward L. Doheny, oil baron and a prominent figure in the 1920s Teapot Dome Scandal, Greystone is also the unfortunate site of a sensational murder that stunned that era’s high society.

What exactly transpired late in the night of Feb. 16, 1929, remains shrouded in debate, haunting the Angeleno psyche even to the present day. The undisputed facts are that at least two shots rang out that night, leaving Ned, clad in a dressing gown, and his male secretary, Hugh Plunkett, dead in a downstairs guest room. Lucy and Dr. E.C. Fishbaugh, the family physician, stated they came upon the bodies around 11 p.m. The police, however, were not immediately summoned. When they finally arrived, they were accompanied by District Attorney Buron Fitts. By 2 a.m., investigators had labeled Greystone the scene of an apparent murder-suicide, the likely result of an employment dispute in which a mentally unstable Plunkett shot Doheny before turning the gun on himself.

The case was quickly closed, but over the years there has been lingering public suspicion that something far more nefarious took place. According to a lead investigator, the timing of the shots, a lack of fingerprints on the murder weapon and the position of the bodies didn’t square with witness accounts. Moreover, the incident occurred just before Plunkett and Doheny were to testify in a Teapot-Dome-related bribery trial. When Doheny, a Catholic, was buried a few yards from Plunkett in a non-sectarian cemetery, it also fueled newsmongering that the deaths might be the tragic culmination of a gay love affair.

Today the grounds serve as a city park. The mansion stands locked and empty, home only to occasional film shoots, special events and, supposedly, a phantom or two apparently still bemoaning the mysterious events of that horrible night long ago.

[905 Loma Vista Dr., Beverly Hills, CA 90210]