Mickey ain’t got the stones for strongarm no more.”
“But you’ve got the _cojones_ to snitch.”
Jabs, hooks. “I got a brother deserted the army, maybe lookin’ at Federal time.
I got three bouts coming up at the Olympic, which Welles Noonan can fuck up with subpoenas. My family’s what you call from a long line of thieves, what you call trouble prone, so I sorta like making friends in what you might call the law-enforcement community.”
“Do you think Noonan has good stuff on Mickey?”
“No, Lieutenant, I don’t.”
“Call me Dave.”
“I’ll call you Lieutenant, ’cause I got enough friends in the lawenforcement community.”
“Such as?”
“Such as Noonan and his FBI buddy Shipstad. Hey, you know Schoolboy Johnny Duhamel?”
“Sure. He fought in the Gloves, turned pro, then quit.”
“You lose your first pro fight, you better quit. I told him that, ’cause Johnny and me are old friends, and Johnny is now _Officer_ Schoolboy Johnny Duhamel, on the fuckin’ LAPD, on the righteous Mobster Squad, no less. He’s tight with the-what you call him?–legendary?–Captain Dudley Smith. So I got enough fuck–”
“Ruiz, watch your language.”
Side 7
Ellroy – White Jazz
Junior–pissed. Johnson goosed the TV–Mickey Mouse ran from Donald Duck.
Junior killed the volume. “I knew Johnny Duhamel when I taught at the Academy.
He was in my evidence class, and he was a damn good student. I don’t like it when criminals get familiar with policemen. _Comprende, pendejo?_”
“_Pendejo_, huh? So I’m the _stupido_, and you’re this punk cowboy, playin’ with your gun like that sissy mouse on fuckin’ television.”
Necktie pull, signal Junior: FREEZE IT.
He froze-fumbling his gun.
Ruiz: “I can always use another friend, _Dave_. There something you want to know?”
I boosted the TV Johnson stared, rapt–Daisy Duck vamping Donald. Ruiz: “Hey, _Dave_. You wangle this job to pump me?”
Huddle close, semi-private. “You want to make another friend, then give. What’s Noonan have?”
“He’s got what you call aspirations.”
“I know that. _Give_.”
“Well … I heard Shipstad and this other FBI guy talking. They said Noonan’s maybe afraid the fight probe’s too limited. Anyway, he’s thinking over this backup plan.”
“And?”
“And it’s like a general L.A. rackets thing, mostly Southside stuff. Dope, slots, you know, illegal vending machines and that kind of shit. I heard Shipstad say something about the LAPD don’t investigate colored on colored homicides, and like all this ties to Noonan making the new DA–what’s his name?”
“Bob Gallaudet.”
“Right, Bob Gallaudet. Anyway, it all ties to making him look bad so Noonan can run against him for attorney general.”
Darktown, the coin biz–Mickey C.’s last going stuff. “What about Johnson?”
Snickers. “Look at that mulatto wetbrain. Can you believe he used to be forty-three, zero and two?”
“Reuben, _give_.”
“Okay, give he’s close to a fuckin’ idiot, but he’s got this great memory. He can memorize card decks, so some made guys gave him a job at the Lucky Nugget down in Gardena. He’s good at memorizing conversations, and some guys weren’t so what you call discreet talking around him. I heard Noonan’s gonna make him do these memory tricks on the stand, which–”
“I get the picture.”
“Good. I quit my own trouble-prone ways, but I sure got a troubleprone family. I shouldn’t of told you what I did, so since you’re my friend I’m sure this ain’t getting back to the Federal guys, right, _Dave?_”
“Right. Now eat your dinner and get some rest, okay?”
* * *
Midnight–lights out. I took Johnson; Junior took Ruiz–my suggestion.
Johnson, bedtime reading: “God’s Secret Power Can Be Yours.” I pulled a chair up Side 8
Ellroy – White Jazz
and watched his lips: glom the inside track to Jesus, fight the Jew-Communist conspiracy to mongrelize Christian America. Send your contribution to Post Office Box blah, blah, blah.
“Sanderline, let me ask you something.”
“Uh, yessir.”
“Do you believe that pamphlet you’re reading?”
“Uh, yessir. Right here it says this woman who came back to life said Jesus guarantees all gold-star contributors a new car every year in heaven.”
JESUS FUCK.
“Sanderline, did you catch a few in your last couple of fights?”
“Uh, no. I stopped Bobby Calderon on cuts and lost a split decision to Ramon Sanchez. Sir, do you think Mr. Noonan will get us a hot lunch at the grand jury?”