Crime Immemorial

In the early morning hours of July 1st, 1981, four people were bludgeoned to death inside a small rental townhouse at 8763 Wonderland Avenue, tucked into the quiet hills above Los Angeles, California. The crime scene was so savage that even veteran detectives were shaken. Blood coated the walls. Bodies were left where they fell. Yet almost as shocking as the violence itself was the cast of characters tied to the case: porn star royalty, nightclub kingpins, and a cocaine economy that defined early-’80s Hollywood. What became known as the Wonderland murders remains one of Los Angeles’ most infamous unsolved crimes.

The victims—Ron Launius, Joy Miller, William “Billy” DeVerell, and Barbara Richardson—were part of a small-time criminal crew operating out of the Wonderland Avenue townhouse. They lived fast, dealt cocaine, and surrounded themselves with addicts, hustlers, and drifters drawn to easy money and constant drugs.

Los Angeles in 1981 was deep in the grip of cocaine. Porn, organized crime, and nightclubs overlapped freely, and lines between celebrity and criminality blurred. In that ecosystem, the Wonderland group was reckless, but not unique. What set them apart was who they crossed.

Just days before the murders, members of the Wonderland gang participated in a robbery at the home of Eddie Nash, a powerful figure with deep ties to organized crime and a reputation for extreme violence. Nash controlled several popular Hollywood nightspots and was widely feared.

The robbery was audacious; cash, jewelry, and drugs were stolen. But there was one crucial mistake: John Holmes, one of the most famous porn stars in the world at the time, had allegedly been involved, and he was known to Nash.

Holmes, battling severe drug addiction and desperate for approval, is believed to have either facilitated the robbery or identified Nash’s home. After the theft, Holmes reportedly returned to Nash’s residence, badly beaten, and implicated the Wonderland group to save himself. From that moment on, retaliation seemed inevitable.

When police entered the Wonderland townhouse, they found a level of brutality rarely seen even in homicide cases. Victims had been beaten with blunt objects, likely hammers or metal pipes, so violently that some were unrecognizable.

Ron Launius was found dead in the living room. Joy Miller lay beside him, also beaten to death. Barbara Richardson was discovered in a bedroom. Billy DeVerell, though severely injured, was initially alive and told investigators he could not identify the attackers. He died shortly after. There were no signs of forced entry, suggesting the victims knew their killers, or believed they did.

Evidence quickly pointed toward John Holmes. His palm print was found on the bedframe near Barbara Richardson’s body, placed there in a way that suggested he had been present during or immediately after the attack.

Holmes claimed he had been forced to accompany the killers and had fled when violence erupted. His accounts shifted repeatedly. Investigators believed he knew far more than he admitted, but physical evidence tying him directly to the murders was circumstantial.

Holmes was charged in 1982 but ultimately acquitted. Many believe his testimony was shaped by fear: of Nash, of retaliation, of what would happen if he told the full truth.

Attention soon turned to Eddie Nash. He had motive, means, and a reputation for ordering violence. Yet prosecuting him proved nearly impossible.

Key witnesses recanted or disappeared. Others were too afraid to testify. Evidence was tainted or insufficient. In 1991, Nash and several associates were charged in federal court. The case collapsed when jurors were intimidated and witnesses refused to cooperate. Nash was acquitted of murder charges, though later convicted on unrelated racketeering charges.

No one has ever been legally held responsible for the crime. The case has inspired books, documentaries, and the 2003 film Wonderland, yet the murders remain officially unsolved, more than four decades later.