A baffling curve-ball to this case is that everyone who knew Ronni cannot think of anyone or any reason why someone would want to kill her. Yet I suspect, as these Hollywood cohorts give it more thought, plausible theories will emerge; a forgotten recollection will spring forth! I just don’t buy the notion that this was random, or that it could be a drive by. Carjacking or robbery? You can rule that out too!
Ronni Chasen’s work history and past seems very complicated. Her clients, connections and kudos could easily fill up a biographical volume. I had never even heard of her until early Tuesday morning. I’ve seen the previews for Burlesque a few weeks ago, but now it takes on a completely different meaning. Could the killer have been in attendance at the premiere of Burlesque? I think so.
In short, the entire catalog of Ronni Chasen’s work will get a thorough assessment from Beverly Hills detectives. The possibility that some clues may be contained (documented) inside her dealings with one of these movies absolutely requires the tools of sophisticated investigation. Let’s see, there’s: Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps, The Hurt Locker, Slumdog Millionaire, Driving Miss Daisy-but we have to dig back all the way to On Golden Pond, if devotion to a solution of this crime is our purpose.
Somewhere buried in these mountains of paper memories is a motive for murder. Detectives have their work cut out for them, but maybe one of the many friends to Ronni will suddenly have a brainstorm; a sequestered memory cell will be jostled from extinction by a random association of circumstance, which holds a frozen mien lost to time.
Patient, clever detective work is mandated by this impeccable case. The beginning is the crime scene itself and vital witness testimony. Surveillance camera footage may well play a role too. I quickly rule out road rage because it happened so late at night, where drivers would have plenty of room to cruise. This was not a crime of passion or of spontaneity. The latest news coming from the Los Angeles Times is that the shooter shot into the passenger side of Ronni’s Mercedes from another vehicle, perhaps a SUV.
This exact spot was carefully picked out by our alchemistic culprit; that is, the intersection of Whittier Drive and Sunset Boulevard was a fixed rendezvous locus. No shots were fired when the car was moving. The assassin waited until her car was still, either at a stop sign or a traffic light. The accuracy of the shots speaks of its preconception. As far as the question of motive goes, I sense the key lies in a riddle of contradictions, a complex web of clients, one of which climbed a rickety rung of the career ladder.
Memories that project themselves, wrapped in a lamb’s cloth, may in reality, be a black-sheep cloak of malice in disguise. A fallen star of sorts cultivated a grudge over time, perhaps several decades, and was foiled, slighted by a simple career call of Ronni’s. The only testimonials we’re hearing in the news comes from those whose careers were boosted positively by Ronni; what about those castaways, those has-beens who hit the jagged rocks of pathless-ness?
