The Case of the Crime King

Chapter 26

I gave Frank an inquiring look. He raised his eyebrows in a gesture meaning it was beyond him. I turned to the woman.

“What did you make of this, Mrs. Winters?”

“Just a lot of bull. Big Julie was always filling Harry with big ideas. Only they never came to nothing.”

I said, “Do you understand what he’s talking about? Did he ever mention anything like it before?”

She shook her head. “You know as much about it as I do. Know what I think?”

“What?”

“Big Julie’s sold them all a bill of goods. He’s a real con artist, you know. He’s got them so built up over some farfetched plan, they’re all turning their money over to him. When he’s ready, he’ll skip and leave them holding the bag.”

Frank said, “The name Salty mean anything to you? Or Harvey?”

“Why, I guess Harvey is Harvey Daniels.”

“You know him?”

She shook her head again. “Got his name from the papers. His picture was printed along with the rest. I guess Salty is the one you don’t know who he is. The guy they just printed a drawing of.”

I said, “You know who he is?”

“Well, back when I was engaged to Harry, he mentioned a guy named Salty a couple of times. Think they were kids together. But I never heard his last name or met him.”

We continued to question the woman, but she was unable to give us any more information. We let her go home after asking her to phone us immediately if she heard from Harry Strite again. She promised that she would.

On the chance that Salty might be a surname instead of a nickname, we ran it through R & I. There was no one on record with that surname. We then had Stat’s run it through the moniker file, but drew another blank.

We took the letter to Captain Peters’ office. After reading it he suggested we all go to Chief Brown’s office and show it to him.

Thad Brown frowned when he finished reading the letter. “How do you take this, Friday?” he asked.

“Hard to say. Strite’s ex-girlfriend thinks Big Julie is pulling some kind of con act on his pals and intends to abscond with the whole bundle.”

“You think that?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “If Big Julie is playing it straight, you could take it that they’re planning to finance a revolution somewhere. Maybe in some small South American country.”

“Yeah,” the chief said. “Impression I got. You know, it would be a fine situation if they actually pulled it off.”

Captain Peters grimaced. “I got a picture of us trying to extradite the president of Guatemala to face robbery and murder charges.”

The chief said, “It’d be an embarrassing situation no matter what country it was. Odds are it’s either a con act on Big Julie’s part, or a pipe dream that couldn’t possibly come off. But I don’t think we better take a chance.”

“What do you mean, sir?” I asked.

“I’m going to turn this letter over to the F.B.I.”

12:21 p.m. Frank and I went to the cafeteria to have lunch. Spotting Sergeant Anderson at one of the tables, we carried our trays over to eat with him. Sergeant Harney of Homicide Division’s Gang Squad was at the table with Andy.

When we had settled ourselves, Andy said, “Any leads on Operation Statewide yet?”

“Got part of a name for our birthmarked friend,” I said. I told him about the letter.

“Salty,” Andy said musingly. “Sounds more like a nickname than a surname.”

Frank said, “We checked it out both ways. Nothing.”

Sergeant Harney said, “That name rings a bell with me.”

Art Harney is a slim, well-built man in his thirties, with clean-cut features and a perpetually serious expression that hides a dry sense of humor. He’s in charge of the Gang Squad, and he must know his business, because the squad has had almost unbelievable success in maintaining order among the approximately two hundred juvenile gangs in the Los Angeles area.

Homicide’s Gang Squad is primarily an intelligence unit rather than a law-enforcement unit. Its business is to keep a close eye on juvenile gangs, compile up-to-the-minute data on them, and head-off trouble before it starts. Of course many so-called gangs are really little more than kid clubs, and get in little trouble with the police. But at least fifty of the two hundred, most of them in underprivileged areas, are potential troublemakers, which makes it a sizable problem. Harney has eleven men under him to handle the problem.

Los Angeles, like all big cities, has juvenile crime. But surprisingly little of it is organized juvenile crime. It used to be, years back. We had our share of gang fights and mass vandalism. Then, about a decade ago, Sergeant Karl Lee, now a captain with the Harbor Division, organized the Gang Squad. From the beginning he decreed that its first function was crime prevention. Apprehension after the act was only a secondary role.

By the time Art Harney took over, results were already beginning to show in reduced trouble between gangs. Today, under Harney, we still have an occasional clash between rival groups, but generally they are abortive and involve only a few kids on each side. The old-time wars in which up to two hundred youngsters met on a vacant lot and fought it out with zip guns, shivs, and chains are practically unknown. Wars still get as far as the planning stage, but the trained officers on the Gang Squad know the symptoms too well to let them materialize. A brief but blunt talk with the rival gang leaders, informing them that the police know exactly what’s brewing, and who, specifically, is going to end up in jail if it comes off, usually brings about a peace treaty.

The Gang Squad maintains complete card files on all known gangs. There are four separate files, cross-indexed — an area file listing all juvenile gangs by geographical location, an alphabetical file of gang names, a name file with a separate card for each known member, and a nickname file. Because the files include all known members, even those who have no juvenile records and have never even been picked up for questioning, they are often of help to other divisions. Several times, when neither Stat’s nor R & I could turn anything for us, we have made identifications of robbery suspects from Gang Squad records. This is because Stat’s and R & I have records only on people who have been arrested at least once.

I said to Harney, “Think there may be something in one of your files?”

Frank said, “This guy isn’t a juvenile.”

“Juveniles grow up,” Harney said. “Our files go back ten years. How old is he now?”

“Described as around thirty,” I said. “Could be a couple of years either way.”

“Make him eighteen to twenty-two ten years ago,” Harney mused. “Some of our so-called juveniles are still running with their gang at thirty. Cases of arrested development.”

“Think you remember somebody named Salty?” I asked.

“Remember the name. Couldn’t say whether it’s a surname or a nickname. I’ll check right after lunch and let you know.”

1:04 p.m. Art Harney came into the Robbery squad room. He said, “Think I’ve got a make for you, Joe.”

“Yeah?” I said.

“It was a nickname. Edward Saltenson. Belonged to the Paloma Gang about ten years back. A real rough bunch. He’d be twenty-eight now.”

“Any record on him?” Frank asked.

Harney shook his head. “I phoned R & I. If he ever took a fall, it wasn’t here. Afraid there’s no mugg shot available.”

I said, “Got a description?”

“One ten years old. Five feet eleven inches tall, only a hundred and thirty-five pounds. May have grown a couple of inches since, though, and filled out some.”

“Two inches?” I said dubiously. “Most kids have got all the height they’re gonna get by eighteen.”

“Not always,” Harney said. “Couple of things make it look good.”

“What?”

“Our name cards give a lot of dope. Including identifying marks. Salty had a big birthmark on the left side of his neck.”

“Yeah?” Frank said. “What’s the other thing?”

“I checked the other members of the gang at that time. Harry Strite was one of them.”