Ellroy – White Jazz

Lying fuck–file cabinets stacked wall-to-wall. “Listen to a tape. It’ll take two minutes.”

He tapped his watch. “_One minute_. I’m due on the tee at Hillcrest.”

Fast: rig the spools, press Play. Squelch, Stop, Start, there: Lucille: “These places are filled with losers and lonesome creeps.”

Stop, Start, “Chanson d’Amour,” the trick:”. . . of course, there was always that little dose you gave me.”

Side 115

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I pressed Stop. Ancelet, impressed: “That’s Joseph Arden. The girl sounds somewhat familiar, too. Satisfied?”

“How can you be sure? You only listened for ten seconds.”

More watch taps. “_Listen_, I do most of my business on the phone, and I recognize voices. Now, follow this train of thought: I have asthma. That man had a slight wheeze. I remembered that he called me out of the blue several years ago. He wheezed, and we discussed asthma. He said he heard two men in an elevator discussing my service and got the Premier Escorts number out of the Beverly Hills Yellow Pages, where frankly I advertise my more legitimate escort business. I set the man up with a few dates and _that was that_. Satisfied?”

“And you don’t recall which girls he selected.”

“Correct.”

“And he never came in to look at your picture file.”

“Correct.”

“And of course you don’t keep a pseudonym file on your clients.”

_Tap tap_. “Correct, and Jesus Christ, they’ll tee off without me. Now, Mr.

Policeman Friend of Pete’s Who I Have Humored Past the Point of Courtesy, please–”

In his face: “_Sit down. Don’t move. Don’t pick up the phone_.”

He kowtowed–twitching and fuming dark red. File cabinets–nine drawers–go–

Unlocked, manilla folders, side tabs. Male names–lying old whoremaster fuck.

Alphabetical: “Amour, Phil,” “Anon, Dick,” “Arden, Joseph”–

Pull it:

No real name/no address/no phone number.

Ancelet: “This is a rank invasion of privacy!”

Assignations:

7/14/56, 8/1/56, 8/3/56–Lacey Kartoonian–call her Lucille. 9/4/56, 9/11/56–Susan Ann Glynn, a footnote: “Make this girl use a pseudonym: I think she wants clients to be able to locate her thru normal channels to avoid paying commission.”

“They are on the second hole already!”

I yanked drawers–one, two, three, four–male names only. Five, six, seven–initialed folders/nude whore pix.

“Get out now, you fucking hard-on voyeur, before I call Mort Riddick!”

Yanking folders–no L.K., no Lucille pictures–

“Karen, call Mort Riddick at the station!”

I yanked _his_ phone out by the cord–watch his face throb. My own throbs: fuck L.K., find G.B.–

“Mr. Ancelet, Mort’s on his way!”

No L.K., files dwindling. There, G.B. paydirt–“Gloria Benson” in brackets.

Glenda’s movie name-she said she chose it.

I grabbed the file, grabbed the tape rig and hauled. Outside, my car– I peeled Side 116

Ellroy – White Jazz

rubber-down to my jurisdiction.

Look:

Two nude snapshots dated 3/56–Glenda looked embarrassed. Four “dates” listed, a note: “A headstrong girl who went back to carhopping.”

I ripped it all up.

I hit my siren out of pure fucking joy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

One Susan Ann Glynn DMV-listed–Ocean View Drive, Redondo Beach.

Twenty minutes south. A clapboard shack, no view– a pregnant woman on the porch.

I parked and walked up. Blond, mid-twenties–DMV stat bullseye.

“Are you Susan Ann Glynn?”

She patted a sit-down place. Expectant: cigarettes, magazines.

“You’re the policeman Doug called about?”

I sat down. “He _warned_ you?”

“Uh-huh. He said you looked through an old trick file that had my name on it. He said you might come to see me and make trouble like you did with him. I said I sure hope he makes it before three-thirty, when my husband gets home.”

Noon now. “Your husband doesn’t know what you used to do?”

A kid yelping inside–she lit a cigarette on reflex. “Uh-uh. And I bet if I cooperate with you, you won’t tell him.”

“That’s right.”

She coughed, smiled. “The baby kicked. Now, uh, Doug said the trick was Joseph Arden, so I put on my thinking cap. This isn’t for murder or anything like that, is it? Because that man behaved like a gentleman.”

“I’m investigating a burglary.”

Cough, wince. “You know, I remember that I liked that man. I remember him good because Doug said be nice ’cause this other service girl gave him the clap, and he had to get it treated.”

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