Would you like to tell me about them over a glass of that nice Napoleon brandy you enjoy so much?”
For a split second Danny felt terrified; Gordean and Pretty Boy became paper silhouettes, villains to empty his gun into. He about-faced out the door, slamming it; he puked into the street, found a hose attached to the adjoining house, drank and doused his face with water. Steadied, he pulled his Chevy around to the opposite side of PCH and parked, lights off, to wait.
Pretty Boy left the house twenty minutes later, walking toward an overpass to the beach. Danny let him get to the steps, cut him five seconds’
more slack, then ran over. His motorcycle boots thunked on cement; the kid looked around and stopped. Danny slowed and walked up to him. Christopher said,
“Hello. Want to enjoy the view with–”
Danny hooked him to the gut, grabbed a handful of bottle blond hair and lashed slaps across his face until he felt his knuckles wet with blood. The moon lit up that face: no tears, eyes wide open and accepting. Danny let the boy kneel to the cement and looked down at him huddling into his kimono. “You did see that man hanging around Gordean’s office. Why didn’t you talk?”
Christopher wiped blood from his nose. He said, “Felix didn’t want me to talk to you about it,” no whimper, no defiance, no nothing in his voice.
“Do you do everything Felix tells you to do?”
“Yes.”
“So you saw a man like that?”
Side 121
Ellroy, James – Big Nowhere, The Christopher got to his feet and leaned over the railing with his head bowed. “The man had really beautiful hair, like movie star hair. I do file work at the agency, and I’ve seen him out at the bus stop on Sunset a lot the last few days.”
Danny worked the kinks out of his knuckles, rubbing them on his jacket sleeve. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you seen him with a car?”
“No.”
“Have you seen anybody talking to him?”
“No.”
“But you told Felix about him?”
“Y-yes.”
“And how did he react?”
Christopher shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t react much at all.”
Danny leaned over the railing, fists cocked. “Yes, he fucking did, so you fucking tell me.”
“Felix wouldn’t like me to tell.”
“No, but you tell me, or I’ll hurt you.”
The boy pulled away, gulped and spoke fast, a fresh-turned snitch anxious to get it over with. “At first he seemed scared, then he seemed to be thinking, and he told me I should point the man out from the window the next time I saw him.”
“Did you see him again?”
“No. No, I really didn’t.”
Danny thought: and you never will, now that he knows I’m wise to his stakeout. He said, “Does Gordean keep records for his introduction service?”
“No. No, he’s afraid of it.”
Danny shot the boy an elbow. “You people like playing games, so here’s a good one. I tell you something, you put it together with Gordean, who I’m sure you know _real_ well. And you look at me, so I can tell if you’re lying.”
The kid turned, profile to full face, pretty to beaten and slackfeatured. Danny tried to evil-eye him; trembly lips made him look at the ocean instead. “Does Gordean know any jazz musicians, guys who hang at the jazz clubs down in darktown?”
“I don’t think so, that’s not Felix’s style.”
“Think fast. Zoot stick. That’s a stick with razor blades at the end, a weapon.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“A man who looks like the one you saw by the bus stop, a man who uses Gordean’s service.”
“No. I’d never seen that man by the bus stop before, and I don’t know any–”
“Dentists, dental workers, men who can make dentures.”
“No. Too chintzy for Felix. Oh God, this is so strange.”
“Heroin. Guys who push it, guys who like it, guys who can get it.
“No, no, _no_. Felix hates needle fiends, he thinks they’re vulgar. Can we please hurry up? I never stay out on my walks this long, and Felix might get worried.”