THE BIG NOWHERE by James Ellroy

Jack Shortell’s oral report: Dudley Smith and Breuning were seen hobnobbing at Wilshire Station the night before last–the night Hartshorn killed himself. Did they make a quick run to Hartshorn’s house–a scant mile from the station–kill him and return to the Wilshire squadroom, hoping that no one saw them leave and return–a perfect cop alibi?

And why?

Juan Duarte was looking at him like he was from outer space; Danny got his brain simmered down to where he could talk. “Think fast on this. Jazz musicians, burglary, wolverines, heroin, queer escort services.”

Duarte slid a few feet away. “I think they all stink. Why?”

“A kid who worships wolverines.”

Duarte put a finger to his head and twirled it. “Loco mierda. A wolverine’s a fucking rat, right?”

Danny saw Juno’s claws lashing out. “Try this, Duarte. Sleepy Lagoon, the Defense Committee, ‘42 to ‘44 and Reynolds Loftis. Think slow, go slow.”

Duarte said, “Easy. Reynolds and his kid brother.”

Danny started to say, “What?”, stopped and thought. He’d read the entire grand jury package twice on arrival and twice last night; he’d read the psychiatric files twice before Considine took them back. In all the paperwork there was no mention of Loftis having a brother. But there was a gap–’42 to ‘44–in Loftis’ shrink file. “Tell me about the kid brother, Duarte. Nice and slow.”

Duarte spoke rapidamente. “He was a punk, a lame-o. Reynolds started bringing him around around the time the SLDC was hot. I forget the kid’s name, but he was a kid, eighteen, nineteen, in there. He had his face bandaged up. He was in a fire and he got burned bad. When he got his burns all healed up and the bandages and gauze and shit came off, all the girls in the Committee thought he was real cute. He looked just like Reynolds, but even handsomer.”

The new facts coming together went tap, tap, tap, knocks on a door that was still a long way from opening. A Loftis burn-faced brother put the actor back in contention for HIM, but contradicted his instinct that the killer drew sex inspiration from the youth’s disfigurement; it played into Wolverine Prowler and Burn Face as one man and tapped the possibility that he was a killing accomplice–one way to explain the new welter of age contradictions. Danny said, “Tell me about the kid. Why did you call him a punk?”

Duarte said, “He was always sucking up to the Mexican guys. He told this fish story about how a big white man killed José Diaz, like we were supposed to like him because he said the killer wasn’t Mexican. Everybody knew the killer was Mexican–the cops just railroaded the wrong Mexicans. He told this crazy story about seeing the killing, but he didn’t have no real details, and when guys pressed him, he clammed up. The SLDC got some anonymous letters saying a white guy did it, and you could tell the kid brother sent them–it was crazy-man stuff. The kid said he was running from the killer, and once I said, ‘Pendejo, if the killer’s looking for you, what the fuck you doing coming to these rallies where he could grab your crazy ass?’ The kid said he had special protection, but wouldn’t tell me no more. Like I said, he was a lame-o. If he wasn’t Reynolds’ brother, nobody woulda tolerated him at all.”

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Danny said, “What happened to him?”

Duarte shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t see him since the SLDC, and I don’t think nobody else has either. Reynolds don’t talk about him. It’s strange. I don’t think I’ve heard Chaz or Claire or Reynolds talk about him in years.”

“What about Benavides and Lopez? Where are they now?”

“On location with some other puto cowboy turkey. You think this stuff about Reynolds’ brother has got something to do with Augie?”

Danny brainstormed off the question. Reynolds Loftis’ brother was the burned-face burglar boy, Marty Goines’ burglar accomplice, very possibly the Bunker Hill prowler/wolverine lover. The Bunker Hill B&Es stopped August 1, 1942; the next night, José Diaz was killed at the Sleepy Lagoon, three miles or so southeast of the Hill. The kid brother alleged that he witnessed a “big white man” killing José Diaz.

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