Exley said, “Sergeant, keep it clean.”
Bud laughed. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black, but screw it. You guys alibied each other for Hudgens, now it’s five years later and you alibi each other up for Patchett. Hinky to me. My take on fruits is that they can’t stick to the same bed for five minutes, let alone five years.”
Valburn: “You’re an animal.”
Bud pulled out a file sheet. “Alibis on the Hudgens case. You and Billy in bed together, Max Pelts porking some teenage quiff. Miller Stanton at a party where your queer buddy Brett Chase also happens to be. So far, we got a real all-American crew on _Badge of Honor_. David Mertens the set man, he’s at home with his male nurse, so maybe he’s fruit, too. What I want–”
Exley, on cue: “Sergeant, watch your language and get to the point.”
Valburn seethed; Billy D. faked boredom. But something in the last spiel nudged him–his eyes went from good guy to bad guy. “The point is that Sid Hudgens had a boner for _Badge of Honor_ at the time he was killed. Patchett gets killed five years later, and him and Hudgens were partners. These homos here, they’re both tied to _Badge of Honor_ and they kicked loose with intimate details on Patchett’s rackets. Captain, if it walks, talks and quacks like a duck, then it’s a duck–not a mouse.”
Valburn said, “Quack, quack, idiot. Captain, will you tell this man who he’s dealing with?”
Exley, stern. “Sergeant, these gentlemen aren’t suspects. They’re voluntary interviewees.”
“Well, shit, sir, I don’t see no difference.”
Exley, exasperated. “Gentlemen, to end this once and for all, please tell the sergeant. Did either of you even know Sid Hudgens personally?”
Two “No” head shakes. Bud flew–Exley poetry. “If it squeaks like a mouse and swishes, it’s a queer mouse. Captain, think. These guys bought dope off Fleur-de-Lis, and they admitted they knew Patchett sniffed horse and pushed pornography. They’ve got the lowdown on Patchett’s rackets, but they claim they didn’t know Patchett and Hudgens were partners. I say we take them through Patchett’s little enterprises and see what they do know.”
Exley raised his hands–fake helpless. “A few more specific questions then, gentlemen. Again, anything illegal that you admit to will be overlooked–and will not go outside this room. Do you understand, Sergeant?”
Fucking brilliant: build them up to who made the blood smut. Trash said Timmy was spooked by the stuff–he showed it to him in ’53. Credit Exley with balls–the closer they got to the smut the closer they got to his old man and Atherton. “Okay, sir.”
Timmy and Billy shared a look: nice people strafed by low class. Exley flashed it over. “And, Sergeant–I’ll ask the questions.”
“Yes, sir. You guys tell the truth. I’ll know if you’re lying.”
Exley sighed. “Just a few questions. First, did you know that Patchett procured call girls for business associates?”
Two “Yes” nods. Bud said, “He ran boys, too. You guys ever buy any outside stuff?”
Exley: “Not another word, Sergeant.”
Timmy slid closer to Billy. “I won’t dignify that last question with an answer.”
Bud winked. “You’re cute. I ever wind up in stir, I hope you’re in my cell.”
Billy mimed spitting on the floor. Exley rolled his eyes–God save us from this heathen. “Moving along. Were you aware that Patchett employed a plastic surgeon to surgically alter his prostitutes to resemble movie stars?”
Timmy said, “Yes,” Billy said, “Yes.” Exley smiled like that was everyday stuff. “Were you also aware that those prostitutes, both male and female, engaged in other criminal pursuits at Patchett’s direction?”
Build them up to “extortion,” the Patchett/Hudgens partnership. Exley told him the story: Lorraine/Rita said “This Guy” made Patchett squeeze his “clients,” right when Pierce was set to go partners with Hudgens–_right after the Nite Owl killings_. A brainstorm coming–maybe a connector back to Dudley. “Answer the captain, shitbirds.”
Billy said, “Ed, make him stop. Really, this has gone far enough.”
Bud laughed. “_Ed?_ Oops, I forgot, boss. Your daddy’s pals with his daddy.”
Exley riled for real–flushed, trembling. “White, shut your mouth.”
The fruits loved it–smiles, titters. Exley said, “Gentlemen, please answer the question.”