Buzz tossed his stick out, holding the end of the thong. The tip hit Lux in the chest; Buzz jerked it back like a yo-yo on a string. Lux yipped at the little wonder; Buzz said, “Coleman, Loftis and Gordean. Put them together.”
Lux stood up and straightened the folds of his smock. He said, “About a year after the reconstruction on Coleman I went to a party in Bel Air. Loftis and his so-called kid brother were there. I pretended not to know them, because Reynolds didn’t want anyone to know about the surgery. Later on that night, I was out by the cabanas. I saw Coleman and Loftis kissing. It made me mad. I’d plasticed the kid for an incestuous pervert. I knew Felix liked to put the squeeze on queers, so I sold him the information. I figured he blackmailed Loftis. Don’t look so shocked, Meeks. You would have done the same thing.”
Minear’s file quote: “If you knew who he was, you’d know why I snitched”–the one reference Doc Lesnick let slip into the grand jury team’s hands–the half-dead old stoolie had to know the whole story. Buzz looked at Lux culling back his dignity, pushed him into the wall and held him there with his stick. “When’s the last time you saw Coleman?”
Lux’s voice was high and thin. “Around ‘45. Daddy and Sonny must have had a spat. Coleman came to me with two grand and told me he didn’t want to look so much like Daddy anymore. He asked me to break his face up scientifically. I told him that since I enjoy inflicting pain, I’d only take a grand and a half. I strapped him into a dental chair, put on heavy bag gloves and broke every bone in his face. I kept him on morph while he recovered down by the chicken shed. He left with a teeny weeny little habit and some not so teeny little bruises. He started wearing a beard, and all that was left of Reynolds was the set of his eyes. Now, do you want to take that goddamn club off of me?”
Bingo–the Goines heroin angle. Buzz held off on the baton. “I know you dilute your own morph here on the grounds.”
Lux took a scalpel from his pocket and started cleaning his nails. “Police sanctioned.”
“You told me Loftis copped horse for Claire De Haven. Did you and him use the same suppliers?”
“A few of them. Coloreds with cop connections down in southtown. I only deal with officially sanctioned lackeys–like you.”
“Did Coleman have info on them?”
“Sure. After the first surgery, I gave him a list. He had a crush on Claire, and he said he wanted to help her get the stuff, make the runs himself so she wouldn’t have to truck with niggers. When he left after my second surgery, he probably used them for his own habit.”
A round of applause for Coleman Loftis: he kicked morph and took up rat worship slaughter. “I want that list. Now.”
Lux unlocked the filing cabinet by the demolished phone. He pulled out a slip of lined paper and reached for some blank sheets; Buzz said, “I’ll keep the original,” and grabbed it.
The doctor shrugged and went back to cleaning his nails. Buzz started to tuck his baton away; Lux said, “Didn’t your mother tell you it’s not polite to stare?”
Buzz kept quiet.
“The strong, silent type. I’m impressed.”
“I’m impressed with you, Terry.”
“How so?”
“Your recuperative powers. I’ll bet you got yourself convinced this little humiliation didn’t really happen.”
Lux sighed. “I’m Hollywood, Buzz. Easy come, easy go, and it’s already a dim memory. Got a sec for a question?”
“Sure.”
“What’s this about? There has to be money in it somewhere. You don’t work for free.”
Adios, Terry.
Buzz kidney-punched Lux, his hardest stick shot. The scalpel fell from the doctor’s hand. Buzz caught it, kneed Lux in the balls, smothered him into the wall and placed his right palm against it Jesus style. Lux screamed; Buzz rammed the scalpel into the hand and pounded it down to the hilt with his baton. Lux screamed some more, his eyes rolling back. Buzz shoved a handful of pocket cash into his mouth. “It’s about payback. This is for Coleman.”