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THE BIG NOWHERE by James Ellroy

Mal turned, saw a death’s head and turned away; Dudley cracked his knuckles. Eisler said, “I will always try to think I did this for Lenny and I will always know I am lying.” His next deep breath wheezed; he let it out fast, straight into his snitch. “I was traveling with Lenny and his wife Judith in Europe in ‘48. Paul Doinelle was making his masked series with Reynolds Loftis and hosted a party to seek financial backing for his next film. He wanted to solicit Lenny and brought a young prostitute for him to enjoy. Judith did not attend the party, and Lenny caught gonorrhea from the prostitute. Judith became ill and returned to America, and Lenny had an affair with her younger sister Sarah in Paris. He gave her the gonorrhea. Sarah told Judith she had the disease, but not that Lenny gave it to her. Lenny would not make love to Judith for many weeks after he returned to America and took a cure, employing various excuses. He has always been afraid Judith would logically connect the two events and realize what had occurred. Lenny confided in me and Reynolds and our friend David Yorkin, who I am sure you know from your wonderful list of front organizations. Since you are so concerned with Reynolds, perhaps you could make him the informant.”

Dudley said, “God bless you, comrade.”

Mal grabbed Eisler’s journal, hoping for enough treason to make two silver bars and his boy worth the price. “Let’s go nail Lenny.”

o o o

They found him alone, typing at a card table in his back yard, clack-clack-clack leading them around the side of the house to a fat man in a Hawaiian shirt and chinos pecking on an ancient Underwood. Mal saw him look up and knew from his eyes that this guy was no pushover.

Dudley badged him. “Mr. Leonard Rolff?”

The man put on glasses and examined the shield. “Yes. You’re policemen?”

Mal said, “We’re with the District Attorney’s Office.”

“But you’re policemen?”

“We’re DA’s Bureau Investigators.”

“Yes, you are policemen as opposed to lawyers. And your names and ranks?”

Mal thought of their newspaper ink–and knew he had no recourse. “I’m Lieutenant Considine, this is Lieutenant Smith.”

Rolff grinned. “Recently portrayed as regretting the demise of the would-be City grand jury, which I now take it is a going concern once again. The answer is no, gentlemen.”

Mal played dumb. “No what, Mr. Rolff?”

Rolff looked at Dudley, like he knew he was the one he had to impress. “No, I will not inform on members of the UAES. No, I will not answer questions pertaining to my political past or the pasts of friends and acquaintances. If subpoenaed, I will be a hostile witness and stand on the Fifth Amendment, and I am prepared to go to prison for contempt of court. You cannot make me name names.”

Dudley smiled at Rolff. “I respect men of principle, however deluded. Gentlemen, would you excuse me a moment? I left something in the car.”

The smile was a chiller. Dudley walked out; Mal ran interference. “You may not believe this, but we’re actually on the side of the legitimate, non-Communist American left.”

Rolff pointed to the sheet of paper in his typewriter. “Should you fail as a policeman you have a second career as a comedian. Just like me. The fascists took away my career as a screenwriter; now I write historical romance novels under the nom de plume Erica St. Jane. And my publisher knows my politics and doesn’t care. So does the employer of my wife, who has full tenure at Cal State. You cannot hurt either of us.”

Out of the mouths of babes.

Mal watched Lenny Rolff resume work on page 399 of Wake of the Lost Doubloons. Typewriter clack filled the air; he looked at the writer’s modest stone house and mused that at least he saved more of his money than Eisler and had the brains not to marry a Jap. More clack-clack-clack; Page 399 became pages 400 and 401–Rolff really churned it out. Then Dudley’s brogue, the most theatrical he had ever heard it. “Bless me father, for I have sinned. My last confession was never, because I am Jewish. I will currently rectify that situation, Monsignors Smith and Considine my confessors.”

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Categories: James Ellroy
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