The Queen of Langton was growing increasingly distant from her king. In the past, vacations meant the two of them traveling to tattoo and hot rod conventions; they were the sober couple from San Francisco who posed for tattoo magazines. Now they spent less and less time together. Rarely was there any display of public affection. She had always left the financial nuances of the salon to him, but now she expressed dissatisfaction with that arrangement. One day at the Tarantula, Robert kissed Carmel goodbye on the cheek as he was leaving. A friend mentioned to Carmel it seemed uncharacteristic. She explained they were going to therapy, and added, "It isn't working."
It didn't work. People described the divorce as unpleasant, acrimonious. As part of the settlement, she got the Langton property; he retained a building on 24th Street and four of the five dogs. Carmel began to be in better moods. She joked more easily. She wore less jewelry, and collected less kitsch, as if that were somehow part of her past. She started seeing a couple of guys, and went on road trips with her clean-and-sober gang of biker girlfriends, the Black Leather Beavers.
"The thought, much less the spectacle, of these half a dozen striking women riding up on these big Harley Choppers and parking," a friend says, "I don't care who you are, but the world stops. They were really into the theater and drama of it all."
More than one California campground was baffled by the sight of girls dancing around the fire in boxer shorts, to a boombox blasting songs from The Jungle Book. They rode to a convention of Elvis impersonators in Las Vegas. Sometimes, they just sat around Carmel's place, watching She-Devils on Wheels, smoking cheap cigars like the chick bikers in the video.
In the evenings, after the shop closed, people driving down Langton might see the lights on in the salon, and glimpse Carmel, alone, in her pajamas, ironing and combing her hair. Everybody needs some downtime.
The dark blue car was traced to an apartment on Pine Street, and to two suspects: a thug on probation named Marcos Ranjel, 30, and a 25-year-old art-school junkie named Amber Tyler. Inside the apartment, police found a pair of black leather pants, a leather jacket, and an undisclosed amount of U.S. currency. Police administered a polygraph test to Ranjel. Witnesses were shown photos of him, but he was not arrested.
SOMA remains abuzz with speculation: Why Carmel? Was it a mob-related hit, part of a protection racket for the neighborhood? Was her ex-husband, Robert, involved? If so, how would he benefit? He wasn't getting the salon, because the divorce papers stated clearly that she was the sole owner. (Attempts to contact him at a recent address were unsuccessful.) And police aren't talking, because the case is still active.
Three months after Carmel's death, people who knew her still call each other almost every day, trying to keep each other up and going. Even so, some of Carmel's ex-addict friends have begun using again. The building at 71 Langton is in the process of being sold. A book about her is in the works here in San Francisco. Back in Sydney, where the story has been all over newspapers and TV, the immediate family remains stunned. Danny Archer, aka Miss Abood, is busy compiling the archives of Carmel and the Synthetics as part of an exhibit for the Australian National Library.
When Carmel's mother arrived from Sydney to claim her daughter's body, she and Penny Small met SFPD Homicide Officer Joseph Toomey in front of the Pink Tarantula. Pat Strelein had visited San Francisco before, but this may have been her first inkling that her daughter had achieved any financial success. The bullet hole was still in the building's front window. Before unlocking the door, Toomey explained that things might appear disturbed because his men had searched the salon. He opened the door, and the two ladies stepped gingerly into the murder scene. The place looked as though it had been ransacked by burglars. Toomey motioned them over to one wall. They followed him through the debris, and he pointed to a framed document. It was Carmel Strelein's Catholic confirmation certificate.
Marco Ranjel and Amber Tyler are believed to be in Mexico. Their mug shots were shown on a recent edition of America's Most Wanted.
