He got itchy, anxious to move. A throaty soprano pushed him out of the car.
Up the driveway, skirting the floodlights. Windows: closed, uncurtained. He looked in.
Moochie Mouse gimcracks in force, no Timmy and Billy. Bingo through the last window: the lovebirds in a panicky spat.
An ear to the glass–all he got was mumbles. A car door slammed; door chimes ting-tinged. A look-see in–Billy walking toward the front of the house.
Jack kept watching. Timmy pranced hands-on-hips; Billy brought a big muscle guy back. Muscles forked over goodies: pill vials, a glassine bag full of weed. Jack sprinted for the street. A Buick sedan at the curb-mud on the front and back plates. Locked doors–kick glass or go home empty.
Jack kicked out the driver’s-side window. Glass on his front seat booty–a single brown paper bag.
He grabbed it, ran to his car.
Valburn’s door opened.
Jack peeled rubber-east on 5th, zigzags down to Western and a big bright parking lot. He ripped the bag open.
Absinthe–190 proof on the label, viscous green liquid.
Hashish.
Black-and-white glossies: women in opera masks blowing horses.
“Whatever You Desire.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Parker said, “Ed, you were brilliant the other day. I disapprove of Officer White’s intrusion, but I can’t complain with the results. I need smart men like you, and . . . direct men like Bud. And I want both of you on the Nite Owl job.”
“Sir, I don’t think White and I can work together.”
“You won’t have to. Dudley Smith’s heading up the investigation, and White will report directly to him. Two other men, Mike Breuning and Dick Carlisle, will work with White–however Dudley wants to play it. The Hollywood squad will be in on the job, reporting to Lieutenant Reddin, who’ll report to Dudley. We’ve got divisional contacts assigned, and every man in the Bureau is caffing in informant favors. Chief Green says Russ Millard wants to be detached from Ad Vice to run the show with Dud, so that’s a possibility. That makes twenty-four full-time officers.”
“What specifically do I do?”
Parker pointed to a case graph on an easel. “One, we have not found the shotguns or Coates’ car, and until that girl those thugs assaulted clears them on the time element we have to assume that they are still our prime suspects. Since White’s little escapade they’ve refused to talk, and they’ve been booked on kidnap and rape charges. I think–”
“Sir, I’d be glad to have another try at them.”
“Let me finish. Two, we still have no IDs on the other three victims. Doc Layman’s working overtime on that, and we’re logging in four hundred calls a day from people worried about missing loved ones. There’s an outside chance that this might be more than just a set of robbery killings, and if that proves to be the case I want you on that end of things. As of now, you’re liaison to SID, the D.A.’s Office and the divisional contacts. I want you to go over every field report every day, assess them and share your thoughts with me personally. I want daily written summaries, copies to Chief Green and myself.”
Ed tried not to smile–the stitches in his chin helped. “Sir, some thoughts before we continue?”
Parker leaned his chair back. “Of course.”
Ed ticked points. “One, what about searching for comparable shell samples in Griffith Park? Two, if the girl clears our suspects on the time element, what was that purple car doing across from the Nite Owl? Three, how likely are we to turn the guns and the car? Four, the suspects said they took the girl to a building on Dunkirk first. What kind of evidence did we get there?”
“Good points. But one, shell samples to compare is a long shot. With breech-load weapons the rounds might have expelled back into the car those punks were driving, the actual locations listed in the crime reports were vague, Griffith Park is all hillsides, we’ve had rain and mudslides over the past two weeks and that park ranger has waffled on ID’ing the three in custody. Two, the news vendor who ID’d the car by the Nite Owl says now that maybe it was a Ford or a Chevy, so our registration checks are now a nightmare. If you’re thinking the car was placed there as a plant, I think that’s nonsense–how would anyone know _to_ plant it there? Three, the 77th Street squad is tearing up the goddamn southside for the car and the guns, muscling K.A.’s, the megillah. And four, there was blood and semen all over a mattress in that building on Dunkirk.”