Ellroy – White Jazz

At first I thought Exley was operating Dan Wilhite, but now I think he put me out there to draw heat. I’m out there, essentially getting nowhere on a worthless pervert 459. It’s a one–I mean _two_-man job, and if Exley _really_

wanted the case cleared he would have put out a half-dozen men. I think he’s running me. He’s playing off my reputation and running me.”

Dudley, beaming: “Salutary, lad–your intelligence, your lawyer-sharp articulation. Now, what does Sergeant George Stemmons, Jr., think of the job? My sources say he’s been behaving rather erratically lately.”

Spasms–don’t flinch. “You mean your source Johnny Duhamel. Junior taught him at the Academy.”

“Johnny’s a good lad, and your colleague Stemmons should trim his disgraceful sideburns to regulation length. Did you know that I co-opted Johnny to the Hurwitz investigation?”

“Yeah, I’d heard. Isn’t he little green for a case like that?”

“He’s a grand young copper, and I heard that you yourself sought to command the job.”

“Robbery’s clean, Dud. I’m looking out for too many friends working Ad Vice.”

Ho-ho, wink-wink. “Lad, your powers of perception have just won you the undying friendship of a certain Irishman named Dudley Liam Smith, and I am frankly amazed that two bright lads such as ourselves have remained merely acquaintances all these many years.”

SNITCH DUHAMEL.

DO IT NOW.

“On the topic of friendship, lad, I understand that you and Bob Gallaudet are quite close.”

Hallway noise–grunts/thuds/”Dave Klein my friend!”

Lester–sweat box row.

I sprinted over–door number 3 was just closing. Check the window– Lester handcuffed, dribbling teeth–Breuning and Carlisle swinging saps overtime.

Shoulder wedge-I snapped the door clean.

Breuning–distracted–huh?

Carlisle–blood-fogged glasses.

Out of breath, pitch the lie: “He was with me when Wardell Knox was killed.”

Side 109

Ellroy – White Jazz

Carlisle: “Was that a.m. or p.m.?”

Breuning: “Hey, Sambo, try to sing ‘Harbor Lights’ now.”

Lester spat blood and teeth in Breuning’s face.

Carlisle balled his fists–I kicked his legs out. Breuning yelped, bloodblind–I sapped his knees.

That brogue:

“Lads, you’ll have to release Mr. Lake. Lieutenant, bless you for expediting justice with your splendid alibi.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Dear Mr. Hughes, Mr. Milteer:

On the dates of 11/11, 11/12 and 11/13/58, Glenda Bledsoe participated in actively publicizing performers currently under contract to Variety International Pictures, a clear legal breach of her contract with Hughes Aircraft, Tool Company, Productions et aI. Specifically, Miss Bledsoe allowed herself to be photographed and interviewed with actors Rock Rockwell and Salvatore “Touch” Vecchio, on matters pertaining to their acting careers outside the production/publicity confines of _Attack of the Atomic Vampire_, the motion picture all three are currently involved with. Specifics will follow in a subsequent note, but you should now be advised that Miss Bledsoe’s Hughes contract is legally voided: she can be sued in civil court, dunned for financial damages and blackballed from future studio film appearances under various clauses of her Hughes contract. My continued surveillance of Miss Bledsoe has revealed no instances of actress domicile theft; if items are missing from those premises, most likely they have been stolen by local youths employing loose window access: such youths would know that the domiciles were intermittently occupied and take their thievery from there. Please inform me if you wish me to continue surveilling Miss Bledsoe; be advised that you now have enough information to proceed with all legal dispatch.

Respectfully,

David D. Klein

Dawn–the trailer. Glenda sleeping; Lester curled up outside by the spaceship.

I stepped out; Lester stirred and gargled T-Bird. Confab: the camera boss and director.

“Come on, Sid, this time the head vampire _plucks_ the guy’s eyes out.”

“But Mickey’s afraid I’m making things too gruesome. I … I don’t know.”

“Jesus Christ, you take the extra and pour some fake blood in his eyes.”

“Wylie, _you_ come on. Let me have coffee before I start thinking gore at six-forty-nine in the morning.”

Lester weaved over–cut, bruised. “I always wanted to be a movie star. Maybe I stick aroun’ an extra day or so, play the Negro vampire.”

“No, Breuning and Carlisle will be looking for you. They didn’t pin Wardell Knox on you, but they’ll find something.”

“I don’t feel so much like runnin’.”

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