Dudley sighed. “Bud has a sentimental weakness for females, and I fmd his account plausible within the limitations of that limitation. Lad, who was this ‘hooker’ you mentioned?”
“Cynthia Benavides, a.k.a. ‘Sinful Cindy.”‘
“Lad, you didn’t include mention of her in any of the reports you’ve filed. Which have been rather threadbare, I might add.”
Lies: hold back on smut, Cathcart’s pad tossed, the pimp who sold Kathy to Duke. “I didn’t think she was important stuff.”
“Lad, she is a tangential Nite Owl witness. And haven’t I taught you to be thorough in your reports?”
Mad now–Kathy on a morgue slab. “Yeah, you have.”
“And what precisely have you accomplished since that dinner meeting of ours–which is when you _should_ have reported on Miss Janeway and Miss Benavides?”
“I’m still checking out Lunceford and Cathcart K.A.’s.”
“Lad, Lunceford’s known associates are extraneous to this investigation. Have you learned of anything else on Cathcart?”
“No.”
Dudley to DiCenzo. “Lad, are you satisfied that Bud isn’t your man?”
DiCenzo pulled out a cigar. “I’m satisfied. And I’m satisfied he ain’t the smartest human being ever to breathe. White, toss me a bone. Who do you think did the girl?”
The red sedan: the motel, Cahuenga. “I don’t know.”
“A succinct answer. Joe, let me have a few minutes alone with my friend, would you please?”
DiCenzo walked out smoking; Dudley leaned against the door. “Lad, you cannot shake down prostitutes for money to pay off underaged mistresses. I understand your sentimental attachment to women, and I know that it is an essential component of your policeman’s persona, but such overinvolvement cannot be tolerated, and as of this moment you are off the Cathcart and Lunceford checks and back on the Darktown end of the case. Now, Chief Parker and I are convinced that the three Negroes in custody are our perpetrators, or, at the very most, another jigaboo gang is responsible. We still have no murder weapons and no shake on Coates’ car, and Ellis Loew wants more evidence for a grand jury presentation. Our fair Miss Soto will not talk, and I’m afraid we must urge her to take pentothal and endure a questioning session. Your job is to check files and question known Negro sex offenders. We need to find the men our unholy three let abuse Miss Soto, and I think the job is right up your alley. Will you do this for me?”
Big words–more body shots. “Sure, Dud.”
“Good lad. Clock in and out at 77th Street Station, and make your reports more detailed.”
“Sure, Boss.”
Smith opened the door. “I tendered that reprimand with much affection, lad. Do you know that?”
“Sure.”
“Grand. You are much in my thoughts, lad. Chief Parker has given me approval on a new containment measure, and I’ve already signed on Dick Carlisle and Mike Breuning. Once we close the Nite Owl, I’m going to ask you to join us.”
“That sounds good, Boss.”
“Grand. And, lad? I’m sure you know that Dick Stensland was arrested and Ed Exley had a part in it. You are not to retaliate. Do you understand?”
o o o
The red sedan–call it a maybe.
Cathcart’s pad tossed and wiped, his clothes prowled–?????
Sinful Cindy: Duke’s smut peddler pipe dream.
Feather Royko on Duke: “Hopped up on some new biz.”
The Dukey shtick man trying to recruit B-girls. Ad Vice checked out: zero on their smut job. Trashcan Jack V., ace report padder, asked for a transfer to the Nite Owl–he said the job was from hunger. Russ Millard’s last c.o.’s summary: 86 the gig–call it a wash.
He lied to Dudley and strolled on it.
If he’d ratted little Kathy to Juvie she’d be reading a movie mag somewhere.
THE PIMP WHO SOLD HER TO DUKE: “THIS GUY MADE ME DO IT WITH GUYS.”
EXLEY EXLEY EXLEY EXLEY EXLEY EXLEY EXLEY–
o o o
Sinful Cindy’s rap sheet–four known haunt whore bars listed. Her pad first–no Cindy. Hal’s Nest, the Moonmist Lounge, the Firefly Room, the Cinnabar at the Roosevelt–no Cindy. An old Vice cop’s story: whores congregating at Tiny Naylor’s Drive-in–the carhops scouted tricks for them. Over to Tiny’s, Cindy’s De Soto outside–a food tray hooked to the door.