James Ellroy - L. A. Confidential

Vincennes raised his head-pale, knuckle-gouged. "So tell me you'll square what's in the file."

Ed picked up his menu. Underneath: heroin, Benzedrine, a switchblade, a 9mm automatic. "You're going to shake Patchett down. He snorts heroin, so you offer him some. If you want some stuff to get your own juice up, you've got it. You're going after him to get your file back and to find out who made the blood smut and killed Hudgens. I'm working on a script, and you'll have it by tomorrow night. You're going to scare the shit out of Patchett and you're going to do whatever it takes to get what we both want. I know you can do it, so don't make me threaten you."

Vincennes smiled. He almost hit the chord-the old big-time Big V. "Suppose it goes bad?"

"Then kill him."

Opium fumes banged his head; chink backtalk banged it worse: "Spade not here, my place have police sanction, I pay I pay!" Uncle Ace Kwan sent him to Fat Dewey Shin, who sent him to a string of dens on Alameda-Spade was there, but Spade was gone, "I pay! I pay!," try Uncle Minh, Uncle Chin, Uncle Chan. The Chinatown runaround, it took him hours to figure it out, a shuffle from enemy to enemy. Uncle Danny Tao pulled a shotgun; he took it away from him, blackjacked him, still couldn't force a snitch. Spade was there, Spade was gone-and if he took one more whiff of "0" he knew he'd curl up and die or start shooting. The punch line: he was shaking Chinatown for a man named Cooley.

Chinatown dead for now.

Bud called the D.A.'s Bureau, gave the squad whip his Perkins/Cooley leads; the man yawned along, signed off bored. Out to the Strip; the Cowboy Rhythm Band on stage, no Spade, nobody had seen him in a couple of days. Hillbilly clubs, local bars, night spots-no sightings of Donnell Clyde Cooley. 1:00 fucking A.M., no place to go but Lynn's-"Where «were» you?" and a bed.

Rain came on-a downpour. Bud counted taillights to stay awake: red dots, hypnotizing. He made Nottingham Drive near gone-dizzy, numb in the limbs.

Lynn on her porch, watching the rain. Bud ran up; she held her arms out. He slipped, steadied himself with her body.

She stepped back. Bud said, "I was worried. I kept calling you last night before things got crazy."

"Crazy how?"

"The morning, it's too long a story for now. How did it-" Lynn touched his lips. "I told them things about Pierce that you already know, and I've been getting misty with the rain and thinking about telling them more."

"More what?"

"I'm thinking that it's over with Pierce. In the morning, sweetie. Both our stories for breakfast."

Bud leaned on the porch rail. Lightning lit up the street-and dry tears on Lynn's face. "Honey, what is it? Is it Exley? Did he hardnose you?"

"It's Exley, but not what you're thinking. And I know why you hate him so much."

"What do you mean?"

"That he's just the opposite of all the good things you are. He's more like I am."

"I don't get it."

"Well, it's a credibility he has for being so calculating. I started out hating him because you do, then he made me realize some things about Pierce just by being who he is. He told me some things he didn't have to, and my own reactions surprised me."

More lightning-Lynn looked god-awful sad. Bud said, "For instance?"

"For instance Jack Vincennes is going crazy and has some kind of vendetta against Pierce. And I don't care half as much as I should."

"How did you get so friendly with Exley?"

Lynn laughed. "«In vino veritas». You know, sweetie, you're thirty-nine years old and I keep waiting for you to get exhausted being who you are."

"I'm exhausted tonight."

"That's not what I meant."

Bud turned on the porch light. "You gonna tell me what happened with you and Exley?"

"We just talked."

Her makeup was tear streaked-it was the first time he'd seen her not beautiful. "So tell me about it."

"In the morning."

"No, now."

"Honey, I'm as tired as you are."

Her little half smile did it. "You slept with him."

Lynn looked away. Bud hit her-once, twice, three times. Lynn faced straight into the blows. Bud stopped when he saw he couldn't break her.

IAD-packed.

Chester Yorkin, the Fleur-de-Lis delivery man, stashed in booth -1; in 2 and 3: Paula Brown and Lorraine Malvasi, Patchett whores-Ava Gardner, Rita Hayworth. Lamar Hinton, Bobby Inge, Christine Bergeron and son could not be located; ditto the smut posers-Fisk and Kleckner failed to make them from extensive mugbook prowls. In booth 4: Sharon Kostenza, real name Mary Alice Mertz, a plum off Vincennes' deposition- the woman who once bailed Bobby Inge out of jail and paid a surety bond for Chris Bergeron. In booth 5: Dr. Terry Lux, his attorney-the great Jerry Geisler.

Ray Pinker standing by with counterdope-so far none of the new fish looked drugged.

Two officers guarding the squadroom-private interrogations-strict l.A. autonomy.

Kleckner and Fisk grilling Mertz and pseudo Ava-armed with deposition copies, smut photos, a case summary. Yorkin, Lux and phony Rita cooling their heels.

Ed worked in his office: draft three of Vincennes' script. A thought nagged him: if Lynn Bracken reported to Patchett in full, he would have yanked his people before the police could bring them in-the way Inge, Bergeron and son disappeared immediately pre-Nite Owl. Two possibles on that-she was playing an angle or their rutting had her confused and she was stalling to figure the upshot. Most likely the former-the woman cut her last confused breath at birth.

He could still taste her.

Ed drew lines on paper. Inez to check Dieterling connections to Patchett and his father-that thought still made him wince. Two l.A. men out looking for White-apprehend the bastard and break him. Billy Dieterling and Timmy Valburn to be questioned-kid gloves, they had prestige, juice. A line to the Hudgens kill and the Hudgens/Patchett "gig"-Vincennes' deposition stated that Hudgens' «Badge of Honor» files were missing at the time of his death, anomalous, the show was a Hudgens fixation. The «Badge of Honor» people were alibied for the murder-but another reading of the case file was in order.

Half his maze of cases read extortion.

Line to an outside issue-Dudley Smith, going crazy for a quick Darktown collar. Line to a rumor: Thad Green was going to take over the U.S. Border Patrol come May. A theoretical line: Parker would choose his new chief of detectives solely on the basis of the Nite Owl case-him or Smith. Dudley might send White back to break his autonomy; criss cross all lines to keep his case sealed.

Kleckner walked in. "Sir, the Mertz woman won't cooperate. All she'll say is that she lives under that Sharon Kostenza alias and that she makes bail for Patchett's people when they get arrested for outside charges. Nobody's ever been arrested working for him, we know that. She says she can't ID the people in the photos and she's mum on that extortion angle you told me to play up. She deadpanned the Nite Owl-and I believe her."

"Release her, I want her to go to Patchett and panic him. What did Duane get off Ava Gardner?"

Kleckner passed him a sheet of paper. "Lots. Here's the high points, and he's got the actual interview on tape."

"Good. You go soften up Yorkin for me. Bring him a beer and baby sit him."

Kleckner walked out smiling. Ed read Fisk's memo.

Witness Paula Brown 3/25/58

1. Witness revealed names of numerous P.P. call girl/male prostitute customers (specifics to follow in separate memo & on tape)

2. Could not ID people in photos (seems truthful on this)

3. Extortion hook got her talking

a. P.P. gave his girls/male prostitutes bonuses to get their customers to reveal intimate details of their lives