White Jazz Part 20

"Sure. He had it once, so it's rough to see him diving for sc.r.a.ps."

"Do you think he's desperate?"

"_Attack of the Atomic Vampire?_"

Glenda laughed and coughed smoke. "It's worse than you think. Sid Frizell is putting in all this gore and incest, so Mickey's afraid they'll have to book it straight into drive-ins to make a profit."

I fixed the TV pile. "Be smart and go back to Hughes."

"No. Frizell's directing some stag films on the side, though. He has a place in Lynwood fixed up with mirrored bedrooms, so maybe I could get work there."

"Not your style. Does Mickey know about it?"

"He's pretending he doesn't, but Sid and Wylie Bullock have been talking it up. Mr. Klein, what are you going to do about this?"

Shelves packed tight--college texts. I opened one--comp stuff, doodling: a heart circling "G.B. & M.H."

"Yes, I stole those. What are you going--"

"What happened to M.H.?"

_That_ smile. "He got another girl pregnant and died in Korea. David--"

"I don't know. Maybe I'll just pull out and set you up with an attorney. But the best you can hope for is a violated contract and no criminal charges."

"And the worst?"

"Howard Hughes is Howard Hughes. One word to the DA gets you indicted for grand theft."

"Mickey said you're friends with the new DA."

"Yeah, he used to study my crib sheets in law school, and Hughes put two hundred grand in his slush fund."

"David--"

"It's Dave."

"I like David better."

"No, my sister calls me that."

"So?"

"Let it rest."

The phone rang--Glenda picked up. "h.e.l.lo? ... Yes, Mickey, I know I'm late.... No, I've got a cold.... Yes, but Sid and Wylie can shoot around my scenes.... No, I'll try to come in this afternoon.... Yes, I won't forget our dinner.. . . No--goodbye, Mickey."

She hung up. I said, "M.H. took off, but Mickey won't."

"Well, he's lonely. Four of his men have disappeared, and I think he knows they're dead. Business was business, but I think he misses them more than anything else."

"He's still got Chick and Touch."

A breeze-Glenda shivered. "I don't know why they stay. Mickey has this scheme to have them seduce famous people. It's so un-Mickey it's pathetic."

"Pathetic"--Junior's notes confirmed. Glenda--shivers, gooseb.u.mps.

I grabbed her raincoat and held it out--she stood up smiling.

Touching her.

She slid the coat on; I pulled it back and touched her scars. Glenda: this slow turn around to kiss me.

Day/night/morning--the phone off the hook, the radio low. Talk, music-- soft ballads lulled Glenda sleepy. Losing her brought it ALL back.

She slept hard, stirred hungry. Yawns, smiles-open eyes caught me scared. Kisses kept her from asking; the whole no-payoff feel kept me breathless.

Pressed hard together--no thoughts. _Her_ breath peaking--no thoughts. Inside her when her eyes said don't hold back--no queers, no peepers, no dope-peddler-daughter wh.o.r.es taunting me.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

". . . and they are out there, within our jurisdiction, superseding our jurisdiction. So far as we know, there are seventeen Federal agents and three Deputy U.S. Attorneys backstopping Welles Noonan. Noonan has not requested an LAPD liaison, so we must fully a.s.sume that this is a hostile investigation aimed at discrediting us."

Chief William H. Parker speaking. Standing by: Bob Gallaudet, Ed Exley. Seated: all stationhouse commanders and Detective Division COs. Missing: Dan Wilhite, Dudley Smith--Mike Breuning and d.i.c.k Carlisle pinch-hitting.

Eerie--_no_ Narco men. Odd--no Dudley.

Exley at the mike: "The chief and I view this 'investigation' as conceived for political gain. Federal agents are not city policemen and certainly not conversant with the realities of maintaining order in Negro-inhabited sectors. Welles Noonan wishes to discredit both the Department and our colleague Mr. Gallaudet, and Chief Parker and I have agreed on measures to limit his success. I will be briefing each of you division heads individually, but before I commence I'll hit some key points you should all be aware of."

I yawned--bed-bruised, exhausted. Exley: "Division commanders should tell their men, both plainclothes and uniform: muscle and/or palm your informants and tell them not to cooperate with any Federal agents they might encounter. Along those lines, I want Southside club and bar owners visited. 'Visited' is a euphemism, gentlemen. 'Visited' means that the station COs at Newton, University and 77th Street should send intimidating plainclothesmen around to tell the owners that since we overlook certain infractions of theirs, they should overlook speaking candidly to the Feds. The Central Vagrant Squad will follow a parallel line: they will round up local derelicts to insure their silence vis-a-vis enforcement measures that quasi-liberals like Noonan might consider overzealous. The 77th Squad is to politely muscle white swells out of the area--we want no well-connected people federally entrapped. Robbery and Homicide Division detectives are currently sifting through recent Negro-on-Negro unsolved homicides, with an eye toward presenting indictment-ready evidence to Mr. Gallaudet--we want to counter Noonan's charge that we let colored 187s lie doggo. And finally, I think it's safe to say that the Feds might raid the slot and vending-machine locations controlled by Mickey Cohen. We will let them do this, and we will let Cohen take the fall. Central Vice has destroyed all the coin-hardware complaints that we've ignored, and we can always say that we didn't know those machines existed."

Implied: Mickey didn't yank his Southside coin. Warn him--again-- tell Jack Woods to pull his n.i.g.g.e.rtown book.

Parker walked out; Exley coughed--crypto-embarra.s.sed. "The chief has never liked white women fraternizing with Negroes, and he's hardnosed the club owners down there who encourage it. Sergeant Breuning, Sergeant Carlisle--you men make sure that those club owners don't talk to the Feds."

Smirks--Dudley's boys loved strongarm. Exley: "That's all for now. Gentlemen, please wait outside my office, I'll be down to brief you individually. Lieutenant Klein, please remain seated."

Gavel bangs--meeting adjourned. A big exit; Gallaudet slipped me a note.

Exley walked over. Brusque: "I want you to stay on the Kafesjian burglary. I'm thinking of stepping it up, and I want a detailed report on the trick sweep."

"Why wasn't Narco represented at this meeting?"

"Don't question my measures."

"One last time: the Kafesjians are prime Fed meat. They're twenty years dirty with the Department. Rattling their cage is suicidal."

"One last time: don't question my motives. One last time: you and Sergeant Stemmons stay on the case full priority."

"Was there any specific reason why you wanted Stemmons on this job?"

"No, he just seemed like the logical choice."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he works closely with you at Ad Vice, and he had excellent ratings as an evidence teacher."

Deadpan--a tough read. "I can't believe this personal-involvement routine. Not from you."

"Make it personal yourself."

Tight reins-don't laugh. "It's getting there."

"Good. Now what about the family's known a.s.sociates?"

"I've got my best snitch looking into it. I spoke to a man named Abe Voldrich, but I don't think he knows anything about the burglary."

"He's a longtime Kafesjlan KA. Maybe he has some family background information."

"Yeah, but what do you want--a burglary suspect or family dirt?"

No retort--he walked. I checked Gallaudet's note:

Dave-- I understand your need to protect certain friends of yours who have Southside business dealings, and I think Chief Exley's fix on the Kafesjians is a bit untoward. Please do what you can to protect the LAPD's Southside interests, especially in light of this d.a.m.n Fed probe. And please, without telling Chief Exley, periodically update me on the Kafesjian investigation.

_______________________________________

Four days--chase evidence, get chased back. Sprint, get chased harder-- pictures I couldn't outrun.

I told Mickey to pull his machines--he shrugged the whole Fed business off s.h.i.t-for-brains Mickey--Jack Woods yanked his biz in record time. Chase Exley with paper: Kafesjian 459 PC, record detail. Covered: the peeper tape and Q&A--those two Lucille tricks.

Exley said keep going Small talk: how's Stemmons handling the job?

I said just fine. Mental pictures: beefcake Johnny Duhamel, lipstick on cigarette b.u.t.ts.

Exley said keep going; I fed Bob Gallaudet information on the sly. Politics: he didn't want Welles Noonan reaping juice off the Kafesjians.

Chase, watch for chasers. No tails--near-crack-ups making sure. Exley/ Hughes/Narco/the Feds: potential chasers, big resources.

Chasing evidence: I staked the Red Arrow Inn--no Lucille, no peeper suspects. I checked 77th: no peeper FI cards found. Tn-State MO checks: zero. Lester Lake said scoop soon--"maybe." Chasing secrets, chasing pictures-- Solo trick rousts--no new Lucille kickers confirmed. Western and Adams, points south--pressing for stories--I stayed high-octane juiced on that family.

Like Exley.

Call it lawyer style: Disturbing the Kafesjians with a Federal narcotics probe in progress is certifiably insane. Edmund Exley is a certifiably brilliant detective with nationally recognized leadership skills. Narco was not present at Exley's Fed probe briefing. Narco is the most autonomous LAPD division. Narco and the Kafesjian family go back autonomously twenty-odd years. Exley knows that the Fed probe will succeed. Exley wants the probe diverted from the rankand-file LAPD. Exley knows that heads must roll. Exley has convinced Chief Parker that the least damaging most judicious move is to sacrifice Narco to the Feds--they can be portrayed as rogue cops autonomously run amok without severely damaging the overall prestige of the Department.

I didn't quite buy it--his hard-on for that family played too ugly.

Like mine, like Junior's.

George Stemmons II--my worst pictures.

I chased him four days-call him plain gone. Ad Vice: straight no-shows. The pad I trashed: locked tight Darktown: no. His father's house: no. Fern Dell: no. f.a.g bars: no, he didn't have the guts to go that blatant. Longshot-- Johnny Duhamel--_his_ known haunts.

Personnel shot me his address. I checked it three days/nights running--no Johnny, no Junior. No way to catch Duhamel on duty--I couldn't tip Dudley Smith. An instinct said Junior's crush ran unrequited-- Blond and Gorgeous didn 't play fruit Possible approach: Reuben Ruiz, Johnny's pal. Gallaudet turned him: front man set to oil the spics out of Chavez Ravine.

I fed Bob a snow job: Ruiz knew a guy I needed to lean on. Gallaudet: he's in training somewhere, check the Ravine in a few days--he'll be there working the crowd.

Tapped out Clay pigeon: Junior nails Glenda dead--for Murder One. A n.i.g.g.e.r pimp victim-- Gallaudet might not seek an indictment But: Howard Hughes snaps his fingers; Gas Chamber Bob jumps. Snap--pick the judge, stack the jury--Glenda green-room bound. Accessory charges pending: on me.

The upshot: Neutralize Junior. Hush up his Kafesjian dealings--if Exley tumbles, he'll rat Glenda to buy out My buyout--Duhamel--feed him to Dudley, the peak moment, work for Exley--Junior/Glenda insurance.

I paid Jack Woods two grand: _find me Junior Stemmens_. My skip trace-- HER--a movie-set trailer late nights.

Miciak kept quiet--we both made his tail strictly freelance. I wrote Milteer fake reports--Glenda fed me fake details. The set--Mickey's wino crew pa.s.sed out We talked low, made love and danced around IT I never said I knew; she never pressed me. Biographies, gaps: I hid Meg, she bypa.s.sed whoring I never said I kill people. I never said Lucille K made me a voyeur.

She said I used people up.

She said I only bet on rigged games.

She said ranking cop/lawyer put some distance on white trash.