Danny drank, making an ugh face, a nonboozer notching points with a juicehead woman; Claire sipped and said, “Car thief, revolutionary, ladies’ man.
I am suitably impressed.”
Cut her slack, let her move, reel her in. “Don’t be, because it’s all phony.”
“Oh? Meaning?”
“Meaning I was a punk kid revolutionary and a scared car thief.”
“And the ladies’ man?”
The hook baited. “Let’s just say I was trying to recapture an image.”
“Did you ever succeed?”
“No.”
“Because she’s that special?”
Danny took a long drink, booze on top of no sleep making him misty. “She was.”
“Was?”
Danny knew she’d gotten the story from Kostenz, but played along. “Yeah, was. I’m a HUAC widower, Claire. The other women were just not . . .”
Claire said, “Not her.”
“Right, not her. Not strong, not committed, not . . .”
“Not her.”
Danny laughed. “Yeah, not her. Shit, I feel like a broken record.”
Claire laughed. “I’d give you a snappy rejoinder about broken hearts, but you’d hit me.”
“I only beat up fascists.”
“No rough stuff with women?”
“Not my style.”
“It’s mine occasionally.”
“I’m shocked.”
Side 128
Ellroy, James – Big Nowhere, The
“I doubt that.”
Danny killed the drink. “Claire, I want to work for the union, more than just lubing old biddies for money.”
“You’ll get your chance. And they’re not old biddies–unless you think women _my_ age are old.”
A prime opening. “How old are you? Thirty-one, thirty-two?” Claire laughed the compliment out. “Diplomat. How old are you?”
Danny reached for Ted Krugman’s age, coming up with it maybe a beat too slow. “I’m twenty-six.”
“Well, I’m too old for boys and too young for gigolos. How’s that for an answer?”
“Evasive.”
Claire laughed and fondled her ashtray. “I’ll be forty in May. So thanks for the subtraction.”
“It was sincere.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
Hook her now, get to the station early. “Claire, do I have political credibility with you?”
“Yes, you do.”
“Then let’s try this on the other. I’d like to see you outside our work for the union.”
Claire’s whole face softened; Danny got an urge to slap the bitch silly so she’d get mad and be a fit enemy. He said, “I mean it,” Joe Clean Cut Sincere, Commie version.
Claire said, “Ted, I’m engaged”; Danny said, “I don’t care.” Claire reached into her purse, pulled out a scented calling card and placed it on the table. “We should at least get better acquainted. Some of us in the union are meeting at my house tonight. Why don’t you come for the end of the meeting and say hello to everybody. Then, if you feel like it, we can take a drive and talk.”
Danny palmed the card and stood up. “What time?”
“8:30.”
He’d be there early; pure cop, pure work. “I look forward to it.”
Claire De Haven had gotten herself back together, her face set and dignified. “So do I.”
o
o
o
Krugman back to Upshaw.
Danny drove to Hollywood Station, parked three blocks away and walked over. Mike Breuning met him in the muster room doorway, grinning. “You owe me one, Deputy.”
“What for?”
“Those guys on your list are now being tailed. Dudley authorized it, so you owe him one, too.”
Danny smiled. “Fucking A. Who are they? Did you give them my number?”
“No. They’re what you might wanta call Dudley’s boys. You know, Homicide Bureau guys Dudley’s brought up from rookies. They’re smart guys, but they’ll only report to Dud.”
“Breuning, this is my investigation.”
“Upshaw, I know. But you’re damn lucky to have the men you’ve got, and Dudley’s working the grand jury job too, so he wants to keep you happy. Have some goddamn gratitude. You’ve got no rank and you’re running seven full-time men. When I was your age, I was rousting piss bums on skid row.”
Danny moved past Breuning into the muster room, knowing he was right, pissed anyway. Plainclothesmen and bluesuits were milling around, chuckling over something on the notice board. He looked over their shoulders and saw a new cartoon, worse than the one Jack Shortell ripped down.
Mickey Cohen, fangs, skullcap and a giant hard-on, pouring it up the ass of a guy in an LASD uniform. The deputy’s pockets were spilling greenbacks; Cohen’s speech balloon said: “Smile, sweetie! Mickey C. gives it kosher!”