James Ellroy - L. A. Confidential

Ed tapped the speaker; static crackled. The closet was hot- but not stifling like the Central Jail storeroom. He thought of his last two weeks.

He'd played it brass balls with Parker, presenting all three depositions, agreeing to testify as the Department's key witness. Parker considered his assessment of the situation brilliant, the mark of an exemplary officer. He gave the least damaging of the three statements to Ellis Loew and his favorite D.A.'S investigator, a young law school graduate-Bob Gallaudet. The blame was shifted, more than deservedly, to Sergeant Richard Stensland and Officer Wendell White; less deservedly to three men with their pensions already secured. The chief's reward to his exemplary witness: a transfer to a detective squadroom-a huge promotion. With the lieutenant's exam aced, within a year he would stand as Detective Lieutenant E. J. Exley.

Green left the office; Ellis Loew and Gallaudet walked in. Loew and Parker conferred; Gallaudet opened the door. "Sergeant Vincennes, please"-static out of the speaker.

Trashcan Jack: sleek in a chalk-striped suit. No amenities-he took the middle seat checking his watch. A look passed-Trash, Ellis Loew. Parker eyed the new fish, an easy read-pure contempt. Gallaudet stood by the door, smoking.

Loew said, "Sergeant, we'll get right to it. You've been very cooperative with l.A., which is to your credit. But nine witnesses have identified you as hitting Juan Carbijal, and four drunk tank prisoners saw you carrying in a case of rum. You see, your notoriety preceded you. Even drunks read the scandal sheets."

Dudley Smith took over. "Lad, we need your notoriety. We have a stellar witness who will tell the grand jury that you hit back only after being hit, and since that is probably the truth, further prisoner testimony will vindicate you. But we need you to admit bringing the liquor the men got drunk on. Admit to that interdepartmental infraction and you'll get off with a trial board. Mr. Loew guarantees a quashed criminal indictment should one arise."

Trashcan kept still. Ed read in: Bud White brought most of the booze, he's afraid to inform on him. Parker said, "There will have to be a large shake-up within the Department. Testify, and you'll receive a minor trial board, no suspension, no demotion. I'll guarantee you a light slap on the wrist-a transfer to Administrative Vice for a year or so."

Vincennes to Loew. "Ellis, have I got any more truck with you on this? You know what working Narco means to me."

Loew flinched. Parker said, "None, and there's more. You'll have to stand in the show-up tomorrow, and we want you to testify against Officer Krugman, Sergeant Tucker and Officer Pratt. All three men have already earned their pensions. Our key witness will testify roundly, but you can plead ignorance to questions directed at the other men. Frankly, we must sate the public's clamor for blood by giving up some of our own."

Dudley Smith: "I doubt if you've ever drawn a stupid breath, lad. Don't do it now."

Trashcan Jack: "I'll do it."

Smiles all around. Gallaudet said, "I'll go over your testimony with you, Sergeant. Dining Car lunch on Mr. Loew." Vincennes stood up; Loew walked him to the door.

Whispers out the speaker: "… and I told Cooley you wouldn't do it again"-"Okay, boss." Parker nodded at the mirror.

Ed walked in, straight to the hot seat. Smith said, "Lad, you're very much the man of the hour."

Parker smiled. "Ed, I had you watch because your assessment of this situation has been very astute. Any last thoughts before you testify?"

"Sir, am I correct in assuming that whatever criminal bills the grand jury hands down will be stalled or quashed during Mr. Loew's post-indictment process?"

Loew grimaced. He'd hit a nerve-just like his father said he would. "Sir, am I correct in that?"

Loew, patronizing. "Have you attended law school, Sergeant?"

"No, sir. I haven't."

"Then your esteemed father has given you good counsel."

Voice steady. "No, sir. He hasn't."

Smith said, "Let's assume you're correct. Let's assume that we are bending our efforts toward what all loyal policemen want: no brother officers tried publicly. Assuming that, what do you advise?"

The pitch he'd rehearsed-verbatim. "The public will demand more than true bills, stalling tactics and dismissed indictments. Interdepartmental trial boards, suspensions and a big transfer shake-up won't be enough. You told Officer White that heads must roll. I agree, and for the sake of the chief's prestige and the prestige of the Department, I think we need criminal convictions and jail sentences."

"Lad, I am shocked at the relish with which you just said that." Ed to Parker. "Sir, you've brought the Department back from Horrall and Worton. Your reputation is exemplary and the Department's has greatly improved. You can assure that it stays that way."

Loew said, "Spill it, Exley. Exactly what does our junior officer informant think we should do?"

Ed, eyes on Parker. "Dismiss the indictments on the men with their twenty in. Publicize the transfer shake-up and give the bulk of the men trial boards and suspensions. Indict Johnny Brownell, tell him to request a no-jury venue and have the judge let him off with a suspended sentence-his brother was one of the officers initially assaulted. And indict, try and convict Dick Stensland and Bud White. Secure them jail time. Boot them off the Department. Stensland's a drunken thug, White almost killed a man and supplied more liquor than Vincennes. Feed them to the goddamn sharks. Protect yourself, protect the Department."

Silence, stretching. Smith broke it. "Gentlemen, I think our young sergeant's advice is rash and hypocritical. Stensland has his rough edges, but Wendell White is a valuable officer."

"Sir, White is a homicidal thug."

Smith started to speak; Parker raised a hand. "I think Ed's advice is worth considering. Ace them at the grand jury tomorrow, son. Wear a smart-looking suit and ace them."

Ed said, "Yes, sir." He forced himself not to shout his joy to the rafters.

Spotlights, height strips: Jack at 5'11"; Frank Doherty, Dick Stens, John Brownell the short guys, Wilbert Huff, Bud White topping six. Central Jail punks across the glass, couched with D.A.'s cops taking names.

A speaker squawked, "Left profile"; six men turned. "Right profile," "Face the wall," "Face the mirror"; "At ease, gentlemen." Silence; then: "Fourteen IDs apiece on Doherty, Stensland, Vincennes, White and Brownell, four for Huff. Oh shit, the P.A.'s on!"

Stens cracked up. Frank Doherty said, "Eat shit, cocksucker." White stayed expressionless-like he was already at the honor farm protecting Stens from niggers. The speaker: "Sergeant Vincennes to room 114, Officer White report to Chief Green's office. The rest of you men are dismissed."

114-the grand jury witness room.

Jack walked ahead, through curtains down to 114. A crowded room: Bloody Christmas plaintiffs, Ed Exley in a too-new suit, loose threads at the sleeves. The Xmas boys sneered; Jack braced Exley. "You're the key witness?"

"That's right."

"I should've known it was you. What's Parker throwing you?"

"Throwing me?"

"Yeah, Exley. «Throwing you». The deal, the payoff. You think I'm testifying for free?"

Exley futzed with his glasses. "I'm just doing my duty."

Jack laughed. "You're playing an angle, college boy. You're getting something out of this, so you won't have to hobnob with the fucking rank-and-file cops who are going to hate your fucking guts for snitching. And if Parker promised you the Bureau, watch out, Some Bureau guys are gonna burn in this thing and you're gonna have to work with friends of theirs."

Exley flinched; Jack laughed. "Good payoff, I'll admit that."