Danny took his eyes off Niles and scoped all three of his men. Breuning was smoking nervously; Shortell was taking notes; Big Gene was burning cigarette holes in the desktop. Danny looked at him exclusively and dropped his first lie.
“So we’ve got a tall, gray-haired, middle-aged white man with O+ blood who can cop horse and barbs, knows some chemistry and can hotwire cars. When he slammed the horse into Goines, he stuffed a towel into his mouth, which means that he knew the bastard’s heart arteries would pop and he’d vomit blood. So maybe he’s got medical knowledge. I’m betting he knows how to make dentures, and yesterday I got a tip from a snitch of mine: Goines was putting together a burglary gang.
When you read my summary reports you’ll see that I questioned a vagrant named Chester Brown, a jazz musician. He knew Marty Goines back in the early ’40s and stated that he was a burglar then. Brown mentioned a youth with a burned face who was Goines’ KA, but I don’t think he fits in the picture. So add ‘burglar possible’ to our scenario, and I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.
“Sergeant Shortell, you’ll be making phone queries on the dental work lead. I’ve got a very long list of dental labs, and I want you to call them and get to whoever keeps employment records. You’ve got solid elimination stuff to go with: blood type, physical description, the dates of the killings. Also ask about dental workers who aroused _any_ kind of suspicion at their workplace, and if your instincts tell you someone is suspicious but you’ve got no blood type, call for jail records or Selective Service records or hospital records–or call any place else you can think of where you can get the information.”
Shortell had nodded along, writing it down; Danny gave him a nod and zeroed in on Niles and Breuning. “Sergeant Breuning and Sergeant Niles, you are Side 88
Ellroy, James – Big Nowhere, The to check every City, County and individual municipality Vice and sex crime file for biting aberrations and eliminate potential suspects against our man’s blood type and description. I want the files of every registered sex offender in the LA area gone through. I want a more thorough background check on Wiltsie and Lindenaur, and Wiltsie’s male prostitution jacket pulled for KAs with our guy’s stats. I want you to cross-check the sex information against the burglary files of middle-aged white men city- and countywide, and look for arrest reports on youth burglars with burn marks going back to ’43. For every possible you get, I want a set of mugshots.
“There’s an approach that I’ve let lie because of jurisdictional problems, and that’s where the mugs come in. I want every known heroin and goofball pusher to see those pictures–hard muscle shakedowns, especially in jigtown. I want you to shake down your snitches for information, call every Vice Squad commander in every division, City and County, and tell them to have their officers check with their snitches for fruit bar scuttlebutt. Who’s tall, gray, middle-aged and has a biting fetish? And I want you to call County and State Parole for dope on violent loony bin parolees. I want Griffith Park, South Central and the area where Goines’ body was dumped thoroughly recanvassed.”
Breuning groaned; Niles spoke for the first time. “You want a lot, Upshaw. You know that?”
Danny leaned over the lectern. “It’s an important case, and you’ll share credit for the collar.”
Niles snorted. “It’s homo horseshit, we’ll never get him, and if we did, so what? Do you care how many queers he cuts? I don’t.”
Danny flinched at “homo” and “queers”; holding a stare on Niles made his eyes flicker, and he realized that he hadn’t used the word “homosexual” in his profile of the killer. “I’m a policeman, so I care. And the job is good for our careers.”
“For _your_ career, sonny. You’ve got some deal with some Jew DA downtown.”
“Niles, shitcan it!”
Danny looked around to see who shouted, felt his throat vibrating and saw that he’d gripped the lectern with blue-white fingers. Niles evil-eyed him; Danny couldn’t match the stare. He thought of the rest of his pitch and delivered it, a trace of a flutter in his voice. “Our last approach is pretty obscure. All three men were slashed by zoot sticks, which Doc Layman says Riot Squad cops used to use. There are no zoot stick homicides on record, and most zoot stick assaults were by Caucasians on Mexicans and not reported. Again, check with your informants on this and make your eliminations against blood type and description.”