by Leonard Pierce
I first met the Zodiac Killer in the fall of 1970 at a dinner party given for him by Grace Malley and her husband, Yezny Finkelblatt, head of Motion Picture Studio’s security cameras deivision. My wife of the moment, Corrida Mexia, was seated next to a lovely young co-ed who would later end up starring on the front page of the Examiner‘s crime section, and I was at a different table. Every time I took a peek to make sure that Ali wasn’t coming after her with a bread fork, she was giggling. Could the guy be that funny? It was hard to tell. He had a potato bag over his head.