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ted and refused to give IT up。 IT was not information。 Call IT concealable。 The inflictors invaded the house with the intent to find where IT was。 They went at it impulsively and impetuously。 The implosive implication： IT was still here。
I looked at Linda Lansing。 I blew the corpse a kiss。 My memory snapped me snapshots of Linda alive and alluring and announced an anomaly。 The live Linda ran lithe。 The corpse ran reduced Rabelaisian。
I nudged my noggin out of necrophile notions。 I bopped to a back bathroom and made for the medicine chest。 I pillaged pills and concocted a chemical cocktail。
Sexy Secobarbital and devilish Dexedrine。 Miltown to mellow them out。 A bracing Bromo…Seltzer to bring the brew to a boil。
I licked up my elixir and chased it with a Chesterfield King。 It chugged into me and detonated a depth charge。 I deliberately and determinedly deep…sixed the house。
I tore up ten rooms。 I upended umpteen underwear drawers。 I whipped up wall…to…wall carpets and filleted fine furniture down to fabric debris。 I deconstructed daybeds； divans； and doilydraped dressers。 I drained drainpipes and cleaned out clothes closets and shivved behind shelves。 I beat the basement walls with a baseball bat and bored into a hot little hidey…hole。
Inserted inside：
A packet of pix。 Glorious glossies surreptitiously shot in Sinemascope。
Linda Lansing boffing boss butch Barbara Stanwyck。 Steamy Stannystill hot stuff。
Linda loin…locked with Lana Turner。 Woo！ Woo！ Salivatingly sapphic！
Linda tasting tough Tallulah Bankhead。 Tallulahtoo much！
Linda limb…linked on a lavender bedspread。 Buck naked beside Barbara Graham and Al Teitelbaum。
Sinful synergy。 Pervasive perversion。 A tricky trio trapped on filthy film。
A confounding connection。
A furtive fur merchant。 A murder victim and a murderess who graced the green room at San Quentin。 A connection to confront： Bob Duhamel did duty on the Barbara Graham case。
I pored over the pix。 I stared at them and steamed them up。 I dripped drool on Linda Lansinglezzed out and lithe。 A dykechotomy： her corpse ran corpulent。
？？？？？
Perched by the pix：
A loose…leaf ledger。 Latin names listed in left…hand columns。 Five…figure moneymakings mapped to the right。
Martinez； Madragon； MarquezMex monickers。 Tostado； Trejo； Tarqueztaco…heads all。 Pellicar； Peja； P。 Pimentel
Whoa now； wait
〃Juan〃 Pimentelthe pincushion/pi？ata at the parking lot。 The make…believe marijuana maven。 The bad…luck busboy and scandal scapegoat。
？？？？？
I packed the pix behind some pipes and laid the ledgers under a layer of loose linoleum。 I beat feet to the back bedroom and bored through a bunch of books I'd flung to the floor。 Va…va…voomthe 〃Variety Directory〃 for 1954。
I leafed to the Ls and found 〃Lansing； Joi。〃
〃Actress。 B。 416/2 8； Salt Lake City。〃
I leafed to 〃Lansing； Linda。〃
〃Singer。 B。 5/2 1/30； Salt Lake City。〃
I looked at the Lansing listings。 I perused two publicity pix。 They blended blonde。 They blurred and blossomed blissfully as near…identical twins。
〃Nice stuff。 I had the better one； so I should know。〃
A vivid voicelow and lezlike。
My hackles hopped。 I hurled myself around and hoped for the best。 I hitched eyes with Deputy Dot Rothstein。
Dildo dyke。 Sheba the Sheriff's She…Dog at the Women's Jail downtown。 A yenta with a yen for young cooze。 A Large Marge in a man's suit。
I came on cooooool。 〃You look good； Dot。 You make me wish I was a woman。〃
Dot shot me a boot to the balls。 I belched bile and bounced to my knees。 Pain pounded me。
Dot said； 〃Stay there。 I like my women in that position。〃
I stood up straight and strong。 I flipped Dot the finger。 She bent it back and bit itto the bone。
Pain：
Lavishly localized。 Bopping off my bit bone to my balls。 Pillaging my pill…headed haze。
Dot said； 〃Did you kill her？〃
I blotted blood on my blue blazer。 〃No； did you？〃
Dot handed me a hankie。 〃I loved her； sweet cakes。 We had an occasional thing going； and we were making money together。〃
I hankied up my hurt hand。 〃How？〃
〃I was pimping her to some politicians who could do the Sheriff's Department some good。〃
My pain pianissimoed。 The Miltown mix was melting it mellifluously。
Dot said； 〃She was shaking down Frank Sinatra。 She shot him some sex； then threatened to turn him off if he didn't get her song some big play。〃
Nix； nyet； and no way。 Liz Scott shared some shakedown shit with me and laid it out large on Linda。 Viably verbatim：
〃She'd put in some innings with Frank； going back to '52。〃/〃She had some dirt on him； and she used it。〃
Dot stared at mestock still and stoic。 〃Care to tell me what you were thinking？ And what you know about all this？〃
I shrugged like I didn't know shit from Shinola。 Dot said； 〃They killed the wrong woman。 That's Joi in the living room。 I know Linda's body on an intimate level； and that isn't her。 Joi always ran chubbier than Linda； and she had a key to the place。 And if Linda's smart； which she is； she'll gorge herself on hot fudge sundaes and impersonate her sister until all this blows over。〃
My synapses snapped to attentive attention。 A theory threaded through my head。
Juan Pimentelthe parking lot pincushion/pi？ata。 P。 Pimentelthe pi？ata's padre or partner or hellacious hermano？ Liz Scott； volubly verbatim： 〃Linda was making a run to Tijuana for Al Teitelbaum。〃
Teitelbaum： pornographically portrayed in Linda Lansing's love pix。 Tijuana： sinfully situated a beat below the border。 Joi Lansing： luridly lashed to linguine by Mexican maraudersbad…boy bandidos who botched their job and bagged the wrong bitch because they only spoke Spanish。
Dot said； 〃Your wheels are turning。 You're thinking up some kind of angle； and you're wondering where I fit in。〃
I shot her a shit…eating grin。 〃I'm wondering what you know about a cop named Bob Duhamel； and a run to T。J。 that Linda might be making for Al Teitelbaum。〃
〃Duhamel；〃 ditzed Dotshe dipped her shoulders disingenuously。
〃I don't know that cop you mentioned； but I do know that you were there when they took out that spic this morning； and I know that Al T。's broke； and he's staging a fake fur heist to get some insurance money； and Linda was going to run the furs down to TJ。 for him。〃
My wheels whizzed； shirled； whipped； and
〃Look； Danny。 We're both in this； but you're in it 〃bad〃。 That said； I have to say that fifty Gs to the right people and some smear jobs in 〃Hush…Hush〃 could set you right。〃
wiggled like a whacked…out whirlybird。
I said； 〃Give it to me。 Straight； no chaser。〃
Dot delivered。 〃Teitelbaum doesn't know who the fake heist guys will be。 Linda set the scam up； and all Al knows is the time and date6：oo P。M。 on the twenty…seventh。 All you have to do is beat the heist guys to the punch； move the furs to Tj。； and bring me the money。 Linda will be too busy playing her big sister to flick with you。〃
SCANDAL SCRIBE SCRAPS CAREER AND CAREENS INTO CRIME！ BOFFO BURGLAR SAYS； 〃MAKE MINE MINK！〃 AND MOVES TO MEXICO！
I said； 〃Who do I dump the furs on？〃
Dot said； 〃The Chief of Police in Tj。 His name's Pedro Pimentel。〃