Biting.
Clawing.
Ripping at his eyes.
Look:
One gushing red socket.
“NO!”–my scream/my gun out/aiming at them tangled up together.
I fired twice-two misses–ricochets off the pavement.
Two more shots braced against the hood–Bullock’s face exploded.
Bone spray in my eyes.
Firing blind–ricochet zings, a jammed slide.
Dudley on Bullock–prying at his hands.
Dudley weaving, screaming exultant–his eye cupped back to his face.
I grabbed the money and ran. Echoes boomed behind me: “EYEBALL MAN! EYEBALL
MAN!”
——–
A week–backtrack it:
I ran that one block to my building. Old bookie stash holes in the basement–I tucked the money away.
Calls from the janitor’s phone:
Glenda, long distance: come down, grab the cash, hide. Pete in El Segundo: cut Chick loose–Glenda’s got twenty grand for you.
Pandemonium at Sears–prowl cars responding to shots. Bullock dead, Dudley Side 237
Ellroy – White Jazz
rushed to Queen of Angels. My explanation: ask Chief Exley.
I was arrested–bagged on Exley’s APB. I was allowed one phone call–I buzzed Noonan.
A custody battle ensued–LA.PD vs. Feds–Noonan victorious.
Material witness protection–no charges filed on me yet.
A Statler Hilton suite, friendly guards: Jim Henstell and Will Shipstad.
A TV in my room–dig the news:
Mickey Cohen–solid-citizen Fed helper.
Gas Chamber Bob G.–nine days missing, where’s the DA?
Frequent visits from Welles Noonan.
My tack: total silence.
His tack: threats, lawyer logic.
Exley called him the day we glommed Bullock; dig the deal he offered: A joint LAPD/Fed effort–Narco swings and Dave Klein brings in four witnesses.
Cooperation assured; Exley quoted verbatim: “Let’s bury the hatchet and work together. One of the witnesses will be a high-ranking LAPD man, more like a hostile interrogatee. He has intimate knowledge on the Kafesjian family, and I would call him federally indictable on at least a half-dozen charges. I think he will more than make up for the loss of Dan Wilhite, who regrettably committed suicide last week. Mr. Noonan, this officer is very dirty. All lask is that he be portrayed as a contained, totally autonomous entity within the LAPD, just as you’ve agreed to portray the Narcotics Division.”
Coming up: an LAPD/Fed press conference.
My “witnesses”:
Wylie Bullock–dead.
Chick V–probably hiding.
Madge–grieving somewhere.
Dudley Smith–on the critical list.
“Critical” PR–Exley press manipulation–no word on the Bullock thing issued. No City charges filed on me; Bullock cremated.
No “witnesses “–and Noonan was furious.
Threats:
“I’ll prosecute your sister on tax charges.”
“I’ll give the DA’s Office my bugging tapes–Glenda Bledsoe goddamn admitted she killed Dwight Gilette.”
“I have you on tape telling a man named Jack to ‘kill him. ‘If you refuse to talk to me, I’ll have Federal agents comb a list of your known associates for that man.”
My tack: total silence.
My ace: sole-witness status–I knew EVERYTHING.
Days dragged. No more L.A. “crime wave” news–Noonan and Exley put the fix in.
Side 238
Ellroy – White Jazz
Tommy and J.C.–under Fed surveillance, untouchable.
A visit from Ed Exley.
“I think you stole money from me. Cooperate with Noonan and I’ll let you keep it. You’ll need money-and I won’t miss it.”
“Without your testimony Dudley can’t be touched.”
“If this agreement with the Feds falls through, the Department will look disgracefully ineffectual.”
My tack: total silence.
A visit from Pete B. Whispers: Glenda’s got the money–and she paid me my cut.
Word’s out you’re a Fed snitch–Sam Giancana just issued a contract A visit from two Sheriff’s dicks: “We like Glenda Bledsoe for the Miciak job.”
My tack–confession–I killed him solo. I dropped knife wound details– they bought it–they said they’d file Murder One on me.
Noonan right there: “I will use the full power of the Federal Government to keep this man in my sole custody.”
A phone call–Jack Woods checking in:
“Meg’s okay. Sam G. put the word out–you’re dead.”
Stale news.
Long days–playing cards with Will Shipstad killed time. Instincts: he hates Fed work, he hates Noonan. I threw out a bribe flyer: erase the Glenda tape for thirty grand.
He agreed.
Noonan confirmed it the next day: “Incompetent technicians!”–a huge tantrum.
Long nights–bad dreams–killings, beatings, bribes, shakedowns, lies.
Bad sleep, no sleep.
Afraid to sleep, nightmares on call: Johnny begging, one-eyed Dudley.