Ellroy, James – Big Nowhere, The THE BIG NOWHERE

“friends” had ever been under surveillance at all. He himself had stuck outside Gordean’s agency trawling for more license plates, more potential victims, more information and maybe Gordean alone for a little strongarm–but the carport had stayed empty, the pimp hadn’t showed and there was no traffic at his front door–rain had probably kept the “clients” and “friends” away. And he’d had to break the stakeout for his date with Claire De Haven.

A thud echoed outside the door–the sound of the paperboy chucking the _Evening Herald_. Danny walked out and picked it up, scanning a headline on Truman and trade embargoes, opening to the second page on the off-chance there was an item on his case. Another scan told him the answer was no; a short column in the bottom right corner caught his attention.

Attorney Charles Hartshorn a Suicide–Served Both the Society Elite and Society’s Unfortunate

This morning Charles E. (Eddington) Hartshorn, 52, a prominent society lawyer who dabbled in social causes, was found dead in the living room of his Hancock Park home, an apparent self-asphyxiation suicide. Hartshorn’s body was discovered by his daughter Betsy, 24, who had just arrived home from a trip and told Metro reporter Bevo Means: “Daddy was despondent. A man had been around talking to him–Daddy was certain it had to do with a grand jury investigation he’d heard about. People always bothered him because he did volunteer work for the Sleepy Lagoon Defense Committee, and they found it strange that a rich man wanted to help poor Mexicans.”

Lieutenant Walter Reddin of the LAPD’s Wilshire Station said, “It was suicide by hanging, pure and simple. There was no note, but no signs of a struggle. Hartshorn simply found a rope and a ceiling beam and did it, and it’s Side 142

Ellroy, James – Big Nowhere, The a darn shame his daughter had to find him.”

Hartshorn, a senior partner of Hartshorn, Welborn and Hayes, is survived by daughter Betsy and wife Margaret, 49. Funeral service notices are pending.

Danny put the paper down, stunned. Hartshorn was Duane Lindenaur’s extortionee in 1941; Felix Gordean said that he attended his parties and was

“unlucky in love and politics.” He never questioned the man for three reasons: he did not fit the killer’s description; the extortion was nearly nine years prior; Sergeant Frank Skakel, the investigating officer on the beef, had said that Hartshorn would refuse to talk to the police regarding the incident–and he stressed old precedents. Hartshorn was just another name in the file, a tangent name that led to Gordean. Nothing about the lawyer had seemed wrong; aside from Gordean’s offhand “politics” remark, there was nothing that tagged him as having a yen for causes, and there were no notations in the grand jury file on him–despite the preponderance of Sleepy Lagoon information. _But he was questioned by a member of the grand jury team_.

Danny called Mal Considine’s number at the DA’s Bureau, got no answer and dialed Ellis Loew’s house. Three rings, then, “Yeah? Who’s this?”, Buzz Meeks’ okie twang.

“It’s Deputy Upshaw. Is Mal around?”

“He’s not here, Deputy. This is Meeks. You need somethin’?”

The man sounded subdued. Danny said, “Do you know if anybody questioned a lawyer named Charles Hartshorn?”

“Yeah, I did. Last week. Why?”

“I just read in the paper that he killed himself.”

A long silence, a long breath. Meeks said, “Oh shit.”

Danny said, “What do you mean?”

“Nothin’, kid. This on your homicide case?”

“Yes. How did you know that?”

“Well, I braced Hartshorn, and he thought I had to be a Homicide cop,

’cause a guy who tried to shake him down on his queerness years ago just got bumped off. This was right around when you joined up with us, and I remembered somethin’ about this dink Lindenaur from the papers. Kid, I was a cop for years, and this guy Hartshorn wasn’t holdin’ nothin’ back ‘cept the fact he likes boys, so I didn’t tell you about him–I just figured he was no kind of suspect.”

“Meeks, you should have told me anyway.”

“Upshaw, you gave me some barter on the old queen. I owe you on that,

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