White Jazz

Four days — chase evidence, get chased back. Sprint, get chased harder — pictures I couldn’t outrun.

I told Mickey to pull his machines — he shrugged the whole Fed business off. Shit-for-brains Mickey — Jack Woods yanked his biz in record time. Chase Exley with paper: Kafesjian 459 PC, record detail. Covered: the peeper tape and Q&A — those two Lucille tricks.

Exley said keep going. Small talk: how’s Stemmons handling the job?

I said just fine. Mental pictures: beefcake Johnny Duhamel, lipstick on cigarette butts.

Exley said keep going; I fed Bob Gallaudet information on the sly. Politics: he didn’t want Welles Noonan reaping juice off the Kafesjians.

Chase, watch for chasers. No tails — near-crack-ups making sure. Exley/Hughes/Narco/the Feds: potential chasers, big resources.

Chasing evidence:

I staked the Red Arrow Inn — no Lucille, no peeper suspects. I checked 77th: no peeper FI cards found. Tri-State MO checks: zero. Lester Lake said scoop soon — “maybe.” Chasing secrets, chasing pictures—

Solo trick rousts — no new Lucille fuckers confirmed. Western and Adams, points south — pressing for stories — I stayed highoctane juiced on that family.

Like Exley.

Call it lawyer style:

Disturbing the Kafesjians with a Federal narcotics probe in progress is certifiably insane. Edmund Exley is a certifiably brilliant detective with nationally recognized leadership skills. Narco was not present at Exley’s Fed probe briefing. Narco is the most autonomous LAPD division. Narco and the Kafesjian family go back autonomously twenty-odd years. Exley knows that the Fed probe will succeed. Exley wants the probe diverted from the rank-and-file LAPD. Exley knows that heads must roll. Exley has convinced Chief Parker that the least damaging, most judicious move is to sacrifice Narco to the Feds — they can be portrayed as rogue cops autonomously run amok without severely damaging the overall prestige of the Department.

I didn’t quite buy it — his hard-on for that family played too ugly.

Like mine, like Junior’s.

George Stemmons II — my worst pictures.

I chased him four days — call him plain gone. Ad Vice: straight no-shows. The pad I trashed: locked tight. Darktown: no. His father’s house: no. Fern Dell: no. Fag bars: no, he didn’t have the guts to go that blatant. Long shot — Johnny Duhamel — his known haunts.

Personnel shot me his address. I checked it three days/nights running — no Johnny, no Junior. No way to catch Duhamel on duty — I couldn’t tip Dudley Smith. An instinct said Junior’s crush ran unrequited — Blond and Gorgeous didn’t play fruit. Possible approach: Reuben Ruiz, Johnny’s pal. Gallaudet turned him: front man set to oil the spics out of Chavez Ravine.

I fed Bob a snow job: Ruiz knew a guy I needed to lean on. Gallaudet: he’s in training somewhere, check the Ravine in a few days — he’ll be there working the crowd.

Tapped out.

Clay pigeon:

Junior nails Glenda dead — for Murder One. A nigger pimp victim — Gallaudet might not seek an indictment. But: Howard Hughes snaps his fingers; Gas Chamber Bob jumps. Snap — pick the judge, stack the jury — Glenda green-room bound. Accessory charges pending: on me.

The upshot:

Neutralize Junior. Hush up his Kafesjian dealings — if Exley tumbles, he’ll rat Glenda to buy out. My buyout — Duhamel — feed him to Dudley, the peak moment, work for Exley — Junior/Glenda insurance.

I paid Jack Woods two grand: find me Junior Stemmens. My skip trace — HER — a movie-set trailer late nights.

Miciak kept quiet — we both made his tail strictly freelance. I wrote Milteer fake reports — Glenda fed me fake details. The set — Mickey’s wino crew passed out. We talked low, made love and danced around IT.

I never said I knew; she never pressed me. Biographies, gaps: I hid Meg, she bypassed whoring.

I never said I kill people. I never said Lucille K. made me a voyeur.

She said I used people up.

She said I only bet on rigged games.

She said ranking cop/lawyer put some distance on white trash.

She said I never got burned.

I said three out of four — not bad.