White Jazz Part 46

"Is it personal?"

"Yeah, it's personal."

Shipstad walked; Ruiz pa.s.sed him and winked. Rockabye Reuben: bullfight threads, grin.

"Hey, Lieutenant."

I twirled the keys. "You go first."

"No. First you tell me this is just two witness buddies gabbing, then you tell me popping Mexican bantamweights for robbery don't push your buzzer."

Bulldozers down the road--a shack crashed.

"_Keys_, Reuben. You saw the originals, memorized the numbers and tried to get that locksmith to cut dupes, and there's tool marks on the lockers at that storage place."

"I didn't hear you say anything like 'This is just two guys who'd like each other to stay out of trouble talking.'"

Gear whine/wood snap/dust--the noise made me flinch. "I'm way past arresting people."

"I sort of thought so, given what the Feds been saying."

"Reuben, _spill_. I've got this half-a.s.sed notion you want to."

"Do penance, maybe. Spill, I don't know."

"Did you boost some furs out of those lockers?"

"As many as me and my righteous B&E buddies could carry. And they're gone, in case you want a mink for your slumlord sister."

Flowers sprouting next to weeds; smog wafting in.

"So you bagged some furs, sold them and gave the money to your poor exploited brethren."

"No, I gave a silver fox pelt to Mrs. Mendoza next door, 'cause I popped her daughter's cherry and never married her, _then_ I sold the furs, _then_ I got drunk and gave the money away."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah, and those stupidos down there'll probably spend it on Dodger tickets."

"Reuben--"

"f.u.c.k it, all right--me, Johnny Duhamel and my brothers took down the Hurwitz fur warehouse. You were maybe pushing that way when I saw you in my dressing room, so now you tell me what you got before I sober up and get bored with this penance routine."

"Let's try Ed Exley operating Johnny."

Smog--Reuben coughed. "You picked a good f.u.c.king topic."

"I figured if Johnny talked to anybody, it was you."

"You figured pretty good."

"He told you about it?"

"Most of it, I guess. Look, this is, you know, off the record?"

I nodded--easy now--cut him rope.

Tick tick tick tick.

Jerk the rope: "Reuben--"

"Yeah, okay, I guess it was like this spring, like April or something. Exley, he read this newspaper story about Johnny. You know, a what you call human-interest story, like here's this guy in graduate school working all these jobs, he used to be a comer in the Golden Gloves, but now he's gotta turn pro even though he don't want to, 'cause his parents croaked and stiffed him and his school, and how he's broke. You follow me so far?"

"Keep going."

"Okay, so Exley, he approached Johnny and what you call manipulated him. He gave Johnny money and paid off his college loan, and he paid off these debts Johnny's parents left. Exley, he's like some kind of rich-kid cop with this big inheritance, and he gave Johnny this bonaroo f.u.c.king amount of money and paid these reporter guys to write these other, you know, similar-type newspaper stories about him, playing on this angle that he had to turn pro out of, you know, financial necessity."

"And Exley made Johnny tank that one pro fight he had."

"Right."

"And the newspaper pieces and the tank job were to set Johnny up as some sort of hard-luck kid, so it would look realistic when he applied to the LAPD."

"Right."

"And Exley got Johnny eased into the Academy?"

"Right."

"And all this was to set Johnny up to work undercover."

"Right, to get next to some people or something that Exley had this hard-on for, but don't ask me who, 'cause I don't know."

THEM/Dan Wilhite/Narco--mix them, match them-- "Keep going."

Bobs, feints--Reuben oozed sweat. "So Exley, he got Johnny this outside work while he was in the Academy, this gig where he what you call infiltrated these Marine Corps guys who were beating up and robbing all these rich queers. That punk Stemmons, you know, that ex-partner of yours, he was Johnny's teacher at the Academy, and he read this report that Johnny wrote on the fruit-roller gig."

"And?"

"And Stemmons, he was both, you know, attracted to and, what you call it, repelled by h.o.m.os. He had the hots for Johnny, which embarra.s.sed the s.h.i.t out of Johnny, 'cause he's a c.u.n.t man from the gate. Anyway, Johnny busted up the fruit-roller ring, and the Marine Corps police, they got, you know, convictions against the guys. Johnny graduated from the Academy and got a.s.signed to the Detective Bureau right off, 'cause the queer gig made him look righteous good, and 'cause being a Golden Gloves champ gave him some righteous prestige. Anyway, that Irish guy, you know, Dudley Smith, he took a shine to Johnny and got him a.s.signed to the Mobster Squad, 'cause he wanted an ex-fighter for this strongarm work they do."

Linkage clicking in--no surprises yet.

"And?"

"_And_ somehow Stemmons found out that Exley was what you call operating Johnny, _and_ he pulled this wild queer number on him, _and_ it disgusted Johnny, but he didn't beat that _puto_ f.a.ggot silly, 'cause Stemmons was this hotshot evidence teacher cop who could screw Johnny on this gig he was f.u.c.kin' embroiled in with Exley."

Popping punches, popping sweat--little moves synced to his story.

"And?"

"_And_ you cops always pull that 'and' bit to keep people talking."

"Then let's try 'so.'"

"_So_ I guess it was about this time that Johnny got tangled up in the fur job. He said he had inside help, and he just hired on me and my brothers to do the hauling work. He was doing these other so-called bad things, and I figured it was strongarm s.h.i.t on the Mobster Squad, but Johnny said it was lots worse, like so bad he was afraid to tell his good buddy Exley about it. f.u.c.king Stemmons, he was talking all this criminal-mastermind noise up to Johnny, and I don't know, but somehow he found out about Johnny and the fur heist."

Ruiz s.h.i.t-eater-grinning--punched out, winded.

"When did Johnny tell you all this?"

"After the fur heist, when we put on gloves and he told me to give him this penance beating."

"And around that time Stemmons tried to horn in on Johnny's part of the fur job."

"Right."

"Come on, Reuben. Right, _and?_"

"And Johnny told me the fur job was an Exley setup from the gate. It was part of his what you call cover, and Exley was in with that guy Sol Hurwitz. Hurwitz was some kind of gone-bust gambler, and f.u.c.kin' richkid Exley, he bought all the furs and told Johnny how to stage the heist."

AUDACIOUS.

Links missing.

Exley's heist/Dudley Smith's investigation--why did Exley a.s.sign someone that good?

Linkage chronology--pure guesswork: Johnny offers Mickey Cohen hot fur.

Dud gloms the Cohen lead and scares Mickey s.h.i.tless.

Exley intercedes.

Exley operates Mickey--_toward what end?_ Mickey, skewed behavior--movie mogul, Darktown bungler--he still won't pull his Southside slots.

Chick Vecchio--Mickey linked.

Chick--finger man--Kafesjian movie time.

Mickey and Chick--linked to: THEM/Narco/Dan Wilhite.

Links: Missing/hidden/obscured/twisted CRAAAZY-- Reuben--punched out, grinning: "So, I guess all this is just between us witness buddies."

"That's right."

"Is Johnny dead?"

"Yes."

"Too bad he never got married. Mea f.u.c.king culpa, I could of dropped a nice mink coat on his widow."

Crash noise--another shack went down.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Stone's throw: Chavez Ravine to Silverlake. Over to Jack Woods' place--his car outside.

Powder blue gleaming: Jack's baby.

The front door stood ajar--I knocked first.

"I'm in the shower! It's open!"

I walked in--brazen Jack--phones and bet slips in plain view. A wall photo: Jack, Meg and me-the Mocambo, '49.

"You remember that night? Meg got plowed on brandy alexanders."

Meg sat between us--hard to tell whose girl.

"You're cruising down memory lane pretty steep, partner."

I turned around. "You clipped a guy for Mickey a couple of days before. You were flush, so you picked up the tab."

Jack cinched his robe. "Is this the pot calling the kettle black?"

"Did you pop Abe Voldrich?"

"Yeah, I did. Do you care?"

"Not exactly."

"Then you just came by to rehash old times."

"It's about Meg, but I wouldn't mind an explanation."

Jack lit a cigarette. "Chick Vecchio bought the hit for Mickey. He said Narco and Dan Wilhite wanted it. Voldrich was the Kafesjian family's bagman to the LAPD. Chick said it was Mickey's idea, that the Feds had turned Voldrich as a witness, and Mickey wanted his connections to the Kafesjians snipped. Ten grand, partner. My consolation prize for that hump Stemmons dying on me."

"I'm not so sure I buy it."