And his Gordean instincts confirmed: the pimp couldn’t draw breath without trying an angle–which meant that he was holding back. Danny said, “You’re good,” got out his notebook and turned to the list of questions he’d prepared.
“Burglary, Vandrich. Did you know George Wiltsie to be involved in it, or do you know of anyone connected to Felix Gordean who pulls burglaries?”
Vandrich shook his head. “No. Like I said, George Wiltsie I trucked with once, talk wasn’t his forte, so we stuck to business. He never mentioned that guy Lindenaur. I’m sorry he got killed, but I just take nice things from stores, I don’t associate with burglars.”
Danny wrote down “No.” “The same thing on dentists and dental technicians, men capable of making dentures.”
Vandrich flashed perfect teeth. “No. And I haven’t been to a dentist since high school.”
“A young man, call him a boy–with a scarred, burned-up face in bandages. He was a burglar, and this would be back during the war.”
“No. Ugh. Awful.”
Two more “Nos.” Danny said, “A zoot stick. That’s a long wooden stick with a razor blade or razor blades attached at the end. It’s a weapon from the war days, for cutting up the zoot suits that Mexicans used to wear.”
Vandrich said, “Double ugh and an ugh on pachucos in zoot suits in general.”
No, no, no, no–underlined. Danny put out his ace question. “Tall, gray-haired men, mid-forties now. Nice silver hair, guys who know jazz spots, hep enough to buy dope. Homosexual men who went to Gordean’s parties back when you did.”
Vandrich said, “No”; Danny turned to fresh paper. “This is where you shine, Cyril. Felix Gordean. Everything you know, everything you’ve heard, everything you’ve thought about him.”
Vandrich said, “Felix Gordean is… a… piece of… work,” drawing the words out into a lisp. “He doesn’t truck with man, woman or beast, and his only kick is bringing guys out, getting them to admit what they are, then… procuring for them. He has a legitimate talent agency, and he meets lots of young men, really sensitive creative types… and… well they’re prone to being like…”
Danny wanted to scream QUEER, FAGGOT, FRUIT, HOMO, PEDERAST, BRUNSER, PUNK, COCKSUCKER and ram slime from the Hollywood Squad reports down Vandrich’s throat, making him spit it out in the open where he could spit on it. He kneaded his jacket sleeves and said, “He gets his thrills getting guys to admit that they’re homosexuals, right?”
“Uh, yes.”
“You can say it, Vandrich. Five minutes ago you were trying to flirt with me.”
“It… it’s hard to say. It’s so ugly and clinical and cold.”
“So Gordean brings these homosexuals out. Then what?”
“Then he enjoys showing them off at his parties and fixing them up. Getting them acting jobs, then taking their money for the introductions he arranges. Sometimes he has parties at his beach house and watches through these mirrors he has. He can look in, but the fellows in the bedroom can’t look out.”
Danny remembered his first pass at the Marmont: peeping, his stuff pressed to the window, jazzing on it. “So Gordean’s a fucking queer voyeur, he likes watching homos fuck and suck. Let’s try this: Does he keep records for his introduction service?”
Vandrich had pushed his chair into the wall. “No. He didn’t back then, at least. The word was that he had a great memory, and he was terrified of writing things down… afraid of the police. But…”
“But what?”
“B-but I h-heard he loves to keep it all in his head, and once I heard him say that his biggest dream was to have something on everybody he knew and a profitable way to use it.”
“Like blackmail?”
“Y-yes, I thought of that.”
“Do you think Gordean’s capable of it?”
No lisp, stutter or hesitation. “Yes.”
Danny felt his soft fur collar sticky with sweat. “Get out of here.”
o o o
Gordean holding back.
His talent agency a tool to fuel his voyeurism.
Blackmail.
No suspicious Gordean reactions on Duane Lindenaur, extortionist; Charles Hartshorn–”Short and bald as a beagle”– eliminated as a suspect on his appearance, that fact buttressed by Sergeant Frank Skakel’s assessment of his character and his take on Hartshorn’s juice–the lawyer unapproachable for now. If Gordean himself was some sort of extortionist, it had to be coincidental to Lindenaur–both men moved in a world rife with blackmailees. The talent agency was the place to start.