Ed said, “It all comes back to the girl.”
Parker picked up a report form. “Inez Soto, age twenty-one. A college student. She’s at Queen of Angels, and she just came out of sedation this morning.”
“Has anyone spoken to her?”
“Bud White went with her to the hospital. Nobody’s talked to her in thirty-six hours, and I don’t envy you the task.”
“Sir, can I do this alone?”
“No. Ellis Loew wants to prosecute our boys for Little Lindbergh–kidnapping and rape. He wants them in the gas chamber for that, the Nite Owl, or both. And he wants a D.A.’s investigator and a woman officer present. You’re to meet Bob Gallaudet and a Sheriff’s matron at Queen of Angels in an hour. I don’t have to mention that the course of this investigation will be determined by what our Miss Soto tells you.”
Ed stood up. Parker said, “Off the record, do you make the coloreds for the job?”
“Sir, I’m not sure.”
“You cleared them temporarily. Did you think I’d be angry with you for that?”
“Sir, we both want absolute justice. And you like me too much.”
Parker smiled. “Edmund, don’t dwell on what White did the other day. You’re worth a dozen of him. He’s killed three men line of duty, but that’s nothing compared to what you did in the war. Remember that.”
o o o
Gallaudet met him outside the girl’s room. The hall reeked of disinfectant–familiar, his mother died one floor down. “Hello, Sergeant.”
“It’s Bob, and Ellis Loew sends his thanks. He was afraid the suspects would get beaten to death and he wouldn’t get to prosecute.”
Ed laughed. “They might be cleared on the Nite Owl.”
“I don’t care, and neither does Loew. Little Lindbergh with rape carries the death penalty. Loew wants those guys in the ground, so do I, so will you once you talk to the girl. So here’s the sixty-four-dollar question. Did they do it?”
Ed shook his head. “Based on their reactions, I’d lean against it. But Fontaine said they drove the girl around. ‘Sold her out’ was the phrase he reacted to. I think it could have been Sugar Coates and a little pickup gang, maybe two of the guys they sold her to. None of the three had money on them when they were arrested, and either way–Nite Owl or gang rape–I think that money is stashed somewhere, covered with blood–like the bloody clothes Coates burned.”
Gallaudet whistled. “So we need the girl’s word on the time element _and_ IDs on the other rapers.”
“Right. _And_ our suspects are clammed, _and_ Bud White killed the one witness who could have helped us.”
“That guy White’s a pisser, isn’t he? Don’t look so spooked, being scared of him means you’re sane. Now come on, let’s talk to the young lady.”
They walked into the room. A Sheriff’s matron blocked the bed–tall, fat, short hair waxed straight back. Gallaudet said, “Ed Exley, Dot Rothstein.” The woman nodded, stepped aside.
Inez Soto.
Black eyes, her face cut and bruised. Dark hair shaved to the forehead, sutures. Tubes in her arms, tubes under the sheets. Cut knuckles, split nails–she fought. Ed saw his mother: bald, sixty pounds in an iron lung.
Gallaudet said, “Miss Soto, this is Sergeant Exley.”
Ed leaned on the bed rail. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have given you more time to recuperate, and I’ll try to make this as brief as possible.”
Inez Soto stared at him–dark eyes, bloodshot. A raspy voice: “I won’t look at any more pictures.”
Gallaudet: “Miss Soto identified Coates, Fontaine and Jones from mugshots. I told her we might need her to look at some mugshots for IDs on the other men.”
Ed shook his head. “That won’t be necessary right now. Right now, Miss Soto, I need you to try to remember a chronology of the events that happened to you two nights ago. We can do this very slowly, and for now we won’t need details. When you’re more rested, we can go over it again. Please take your time and start when the three men kidnapped you.”
Inez pushed up on her pillows. “They weren’t men!”
Ed gripped the rail. “I know. And they’re going to be punished for what they did to you. But before we can do that we need to eliminate or confirm them as suspects on another crime.”