Danny raised the glass, looking chagrined when he found it empty. “Yes, Captain.”
“It’s still ‘Mal.’ Do you want something to eat?”
“No thanks.”
“A drink?”
Danny pushed the glass away. “No.”
Side 134
Ellroy, James – Big Nowhere, The Buzz said, “Save your dukes for the Police Golden Gloves. I knew a guy made Sergeant beatin’ up on guys his CO hated.”
Danny laughed; Mal wished that he’d order a shot for his nerves. “Tell me about the approach. Have you met with De Haven?”
“Yeah, twice.”
“And?”
“And she’s making a play for me.”
His operative was actually blushing. Mal said, “Tell me about it.”
“There’s not much to tell yet. We had a date tonight, we’ve got another one set for tomorrow night. I listened outside her house while a meeting was going on, and I picked up some stuff. Pretty vague, but enough to tell me that they have some kind of extortion angle going against the studios and they’re planning to time it with the Teamsters going crazy on the picket line. So tell Mickey to keep his guys in check. I could tell this angle is important to their strategy, and when I see De Haven tomorrow, I’m going to press her for details.”
Mal kicked the dope around, thinking that it played true to his take on the brain trusters: they were duplicitous, they talked a lot, they took their own sweet time acting and let outside events call the tune. “Who have you met besides Kostenz and De Haven?”
“Loftis, Minear and Ziffkin, but just briefly.”
“How did they impress you?”
Danny made an open-handed gesture. “They didn’t really impress me at all. I only spoke to them for a minute or so.”
Buzz chuckled and loosened his belt. “You were lucky old Reynolds didn’t jump your bones instead of De Haven. Nice-lookin’ young guy like you would probably get that old prowler stiffin’ up a hard yard.”
Danny flushed again. Mal thought of him working two twenty-four-hour-a-day cases, jamming them into one twenty-four-hour day. He said, “Tell me how your other job’s going.”
Danny’s eyes were darting, flicking over the neighboring booths, lingering on men at the bar before returning to Mal. He said, “Slow but well, I think. I’ve got my own home file, all the evidence and all my impressions, and that’s a help. I’ve got a bunch of records checks going, and so far that’s slow, but steady. Where I think I’m getting close is on the victims, putting them together. He’s not a random psycho, I _know_ that. If I get closer, I might need a decoy to help draw him out. Would it be possible to get another man?”
Mal said, “No”; he watched Danny’s eyes follow two men walking past their booth. “No, not after your stunt with Niles. You’ve got those four officers Dudley Smith swung you–”
“They’re Dudley’s men, not mine! They won’t even report to me, and Mike Breuning’s jerking my chain! For all I know he’s bunked out on the whole job!”
Mal slapped the table, bringing Danny’s eyes back to him. “Look at me and listen. I want you to calm down and take things slow. You’re doing all you can on both your assignments, and aside from Niles you’re doing great. Now you’ve lost one man, but you’ve got your tailing officers, so just figure you’ve cut your goddamn losses, knuckle down and be a professional. _Be a policeman_.”
Danny’s eyes, blurry, held on Mal. Buzz said, “Deputy, you got any hard leads on your victims, any whatcha call common denominators?”
The operative spoke to his operator. “A man named Felix Gordean. He’s a homosexual procurer connected to one of the victims, and I _know_ the killer’s got some kind of fix on him. I haven’t leaned on him too hard yet, because he’s paying off County Central Vice and he says he’s got influence with LAPD and the Bureau.”
Mal said, “Well, I’ve never heard of him, and I’m top Bureau dog. Buzz, do you know this guy?”
“Sure do, boss. Large City juice, larger County. One lean and mean fruitfly, plays golf with Sheriff Eugene Biscailuz, puts a few shekels in Al Dietrich’s pockets come Christmastime, too.”