Джеймс Эллрой - Widespread Panic

Haines licked blood off his lips. “Hey, the greaseball speaks, and he don’t speak with forked tongue.”

Max Herman said, “Tell us what you mean by that.”

Haines said, “I mean the greaseball speaks la verdad. The Red Devil Bandit likes young gash he can terrorize. He likes the pads off Washington and Jefferson, down near USC. I can get more specific if you give me that waltz and lay a big dinner-and-drinks chit for Kwan’s Chinese Pagoda on me.”

Max Herman said, “You’re on.”

Red Stromwall said, “We’ll throw in a shower and a run by Georgia Street. We know all the doctors there. They’ll fix you up.”

Harry Crowder said, “Delbert’s a white man.”

Eddie Benson said, “Let’s not go overboard.”

Haines looked straight at me. “Severance Street, the first block south of Jefferson. The Bandit’s casing a pad there. He might hit tonight. The chick’s a predental student. She’s got short dark hair in a pixie cut.”

Max uncuffed Haines and handed him his handkerchief. Haines wrung his wrists and grabbed the chair back. He staggered and struggled to stand up.

I said, “You don’t make him for Joanie? There’s no way he’d go for that?”

Haines haw-hawed. “ ‘Joanie?’ Do I detect something there?”

The Hats haw-hawed. They shared wicked winks. Max said, “We make him for Joanie, and that’s all that counts.”

Harry and Eddie took Haines to Georgia Street and ensconced him with the jail-ward doc. I went with them. Georgia Street, redux. I walked the wicked path I walked when I whacked Ralphie Horvath.

Eddie ribbed me. “Must bring back some memories. Eh, Freddy?”

Haines had no fixed address for George Collier Akin. The Hats preferred to hit hot-prowl men in the act. Max dug up a map of Severance south of Jefferson. Red stiffed cold calls to every house on the block. He pinned the pixie cut. She was one Louise Marie Vernell, age eighteen.

Red laid out the sick situation. Louise gave in to gasps. She rented a room in a coed boardinghouse. Max decreed evacuation. Red dispatched three patrol sleds. Patrol cops took the tittering tenants and their landlady to the downtown Statler. The PD picked up the tab. The girls gassed on the service and posed for pix with the cops.

We waited. The dead-of-winter day dipped to dusk. Max buzzed Bill Parker. I heard his side of the call. He said, “Yes, Chief” fourteen times and hung up.

I packed my .45 automatic. The Hats packed Python Magnums. Harry made the booze run. He brought back six short dogs of bonded bourbon and boocoo potato chips.

We rolled out in two K-cars. I rolled with Max and Red. Max laid in Ithaca pumps and a box of throwdown guns. We pulled ahead in the pole spot. Harry and Eddie bird-dogged behind. We hit South Severance at full dark.

Louise left her lights on, upstairs. They beamed I’m-home-alone/come-and-find-me rape rays. The pole car took the back-alley slot. The follow car took the Severance slot.

Max and Red played host. We shared short dogs and potato chips. The car was cold. The booze built its glimmering glow. Max and Red teased and taunted me.

You’re okay, Freddy. We miss you, Freddy. Confidential’s a shit rag, Freddy. How many felony extortions have you pulled this year, Freddy? The Chief’s got his four eyes on you.

It sailed sadly by me. I was off with Stretch and Claire and the mystery man she vowed to kill. Plus Studly Steve and Commo Connie Woodard. Claire per Connie: “I’m interested in her, too.”

Time ticked by. Tick, tick, tick. I entertain ripe revelations. Claire scares me more than Georgie Akin and the Hats. Tick, tick, tick. The hellhound Horvaths. They’ve haunted me and hurtled me here.

The teasing and taunting ebbed. Time ticked toward 10:00 p.m. Max and Red booze-dozed their way through ten-minute naps. I popped two Dexedrine and wound myself up.

I saw something. It was something evil and something wrong. The something walked northbound. In our direct direction. There’s a red blur where its head should be and black below that. It’s getting close. It’s veering toward the boardinghouse back gate.

The boys woke up. The Something’s très close. It’s got its hand on the gate latch. Said latch is unlocked. Our K-car’s shadow-shrouded. We see it. It can’t see us.

The Red Devil Bandit. That red-rubber mask. The fangs and horns. He rapes and maims. He didn’t maim and kill Joan Horvath. We’re past all that now.

Max and Red pulled their belt guns. I pulled mine. The Red Devil Bandit opened the gate and closed it behind him. Max mouthed One, two, three, four, five. We got out and followed him.

We were silent. We went tiptoed. The Red Devil Bandit heard zilch. He stood in the walkway and eyed the upstairs light. Harry and Eddie stepped out of a shadow. The Red Beast saw them. They held pump shotguns.

The Red Beast turned to run. He saw three more men and three more guns out. He saw me.

Max said, “Kill him, Freddy.”

I stepped up. I aimed. The Red Beast stood still. I fired at his face. It blew up, red-on-red. Red rubber and red blood exploded. The shot rang loud loud.

Harry and Eddie shotgunned him and tumbled him back off his feet. He’s dead now. He’s no danger. This is how this works. All five of us walked up and emptied our guns. We fired point-blank and shot him to bits.

My Furtively Fucked-up Life

2/22–3/18/54

Yeah, I did it. Yeah, it was wrong. Yeah, I enjoyed it. He got what he paid for. I knew I’d pay for what I did — somewhere down the line.

The Hearst rags loved it. Hats Slay Red Devil Bandit!!! Celeb P.I. Assists!!! Dig the fetching fotos. I stand with Max, Red, Harry, and Eddie. They dwarf me. We point to something red and dead on the ground.

More headline hullabaloo. Tipster tattles Red Devil Bandit!!! Daring Blastout Ensues!!! More fetching fotos. Georgie Akin’s 1943 mug shots. A posed my-hero shot. Fractious Freddy with Max Herman and Red Stromwall. We strut. Louise Marie Vernell smarmy-smiles up at us.

BHPD blew a stakeout on Durward Brown and Richard Dulange. The Hats hunted them down and killed them four days later. The Hearst rags loved it. More headline hullabaloo. Motel Massacre!!! Hats Gun Down Kidnap-Rapists!!! All Gang Members Now Dead!!!

Many more fetching fotos. The Hats with Chief Parker. Mastiffs maul for their master. Big backslaps and yuk-yuks. Many mentions of me. Max Herman sez, “We needed Freddy O. on this one. Freddy’s our boy. He’s the Man to See.” Red Stromwall sez, “God bless Freddy O. What’s a daring blastout without him?”

Yeah, I did it. Yeah, I knew it was wrong. Yeah, I loved the hack hullabaloo. Don’t fuck with Freddy O. He’s the Man to See. Too bad the world sees back. Too bad the world’s inside him.

The Googie’s gang saw me and tipstered me and fed me scandal skank. I scored scads of sin uendo for the magazine. Homos, lezbos, dipsos, hopheads. Underhung Untermenschen and big-dick barracudas. Heavy hermaphrodite action sunders the Sunset Strip!!!

Freddy O.’s the Shaman of Shame. He’s got to see you. Meanwhile, you see him.

I saw Joan “Stretch” Perkins and Claire Klein. We talked about things and around things. I saw them, they saw me. They taunted, tickled, and teased me. Stretch wanted kid love, with all the va-va-voom verboten. We slept in my bed. Stretch wore basketball silks. I wore pajamas. We necked to a naughty nexus and stopped cold. Lance the Leopard got between us. It was nighty-night then.

Stretch taunts and teases me. She knows things about me. She knows I killed the Red Devil Bandit in cold blood. She knows it all pertains to the hellhound Horvaths — and that I’m not done with them yet. Claire Klein taunts and teases me. She won’t fall down with me. We meet at Googie’s most nights. We smile and drink. Our hands often brush. We discuss Operation Rock Wife. I’ll be taking over Jimmy Dean’s stewardship soon. He’ll be off to shoot East of Eden with Gadge Kazan and that big Texas flick with Liz and Rock. Claire wants to kill a man. I see that. It consumes her. She sees that I’m going at the Cochran gig and the Commie Connie connection circumspectly. She’s an I-want-to- see -it-and-know-it-all-now girl. And most assuredly a psychopath. She withholds from me. I withhold from her. Our boundaries wiggle, wilt, and hold firm. She scares me. I don’t scare her. I’m not the Man to See. I’m the man to help her fulfill her murderous destiny.