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I said； 〃Who do I dump the furs on？〃
Dot said； 〃The Chief of Police in Tj。 His name's Pedro Pimentel。〃
4
I hid out at a hip hutch in Santa Monica Canyon。 I crawled to Crazy Chris Isherwood and begged for a bed。
Christlike Chris shot me shelter at his shitty little Shinto shrine。 Crafty Chris issued the invite and predicated it on a promise：
Don't hump me in 〃Hush…Hush〃。 Don't spin your spotlight on my homo hijinx。 Don't condemn my bination kick…pad/ashram and ridicule the residents。 Don't publish that picture of me with a lip lock on Liberace。
I smiled smug。 I crossed my heart to Chris and Christ Himself and issued an insincere promise。 I hauled in my Hudson Hornet and my hop from Ben Hong's herb hut。
The ashram was a dope den and a lavender lovenest。 My rambunctious roommates：
Aldous Huxleyaddled on absinthe； pickled on peyote； and looped on a loony Lysol called lysergic acid diethylamide。
Bogie Bogartbattling the Big C with voodoo vows and peach…pit potions。
Oscar Levantlevitatingly lost in laudanum and Lowenbrau lager。
Sammy Davis Jr。jigaboo…juked for pouring the pork to a white wench who went out with Walter Winchell。 Winsomely COONfidential： Winchell sent some wops out to whack Sammy。
Lastbut not loin…longingly least：
Three masochism…mauled marines marked for molestation。 Deserters seeking shelter from the Shore Patrol。 Prime prey for Creepy Chris。
I moved in and made time to map out my mink misadventure。 I lounged around in limbo。
I lapped up laud anum with Levant and got high on hashish with Huxley。 Chris crystallized Ben Hong's herbs and cooked up anticancer cocktails for Bogie。 I watched nightly newscasts and notched nerve…wracking news。
Skip Towne and Flash Floodflattened by a fly…by…night who flipped a two…ton truck。 Flash Flood's Fleetwood： torched to toast in Topanga Canyon。 Rival DJs riding together？ Make that murder in my magazine。
No news on lush Linda Lansing and the Moorish Mosque Massacre。 No poop on the payola probe and priapic Sinatra。 Call that collective collusion。
I called my cop contacts。 I picked up poop on Pedro Pimentel。
One baaaad beaner。 The taco…phile Tojo of Tj。
He controlled the corrupt cop corps。 His cops copped coin off incarcerated inmates run in on random charges。 Pedro pried their property loose。 He violated their virgin daughters and made them vice vixens at the Va…Va…Voom Club。 He kicked their less ely kids into cardboard casas and coerced them to work in his sweatshops。 They moonlighted as wistful waifs and charmed chump change out of cheerful gringos。
Pedro Pimentel owned a clap clinic and the Club Diabloan adoringly adorned adobe hut that housed hermaphrodites and the best burro act in Baja。 Pedro Pimentel smuggled smut。 Pedro Pimentel pummeled pinkos and castrated Castroites out of Cuba。 Pedro Pimental made nice to Nazis named at Nuremburg and assured them asylum。
Pedro Pimentel fenced furs。
My cop contacts dispensed more dish。
Juan Pimentel was Pedro's pedophile brother。 Juan bopped out of Baja behind some child…snuff snafu。 Pedro put him in touch with Bad Bob DuhamelBHPD。 Bad Bob made Wicked Juan his sneaky snitch。 Wicked Juan worked at the Pacific Dining Cara front to frame his sniveling snitchwork。 Bad Bob went way back with delightful dyke Dot Rothstein。 They engaged in an entrapment scheme to screw Barbara Grahamwigged out in the women's jail。
Barbarous Barb was gorgeous gash and one good actress。 She maintained that she didn't murder Mabel Monahan。 Demon DA Miller Leavy found her fetching。 He feared that she'd move the men on the jury to mush。 Leavy dished up a plan to discredit her and divvied it out to Dot and Bad Bob。
They went underground。 They unearthed some underworld untermenschen and unleashed them on Barbarous Barb。 They handed her handy alibis for 3/9/53。 She bit and said she'd buy them if they bought her out of the shit。 The untermenschen shot her the shaft and strode straight to Miller Leavy。 Leavy levied the alibi bit against Barb。 It chewed her up and helped him chalk up a convincing conviction。
My cop contacts contradicted Diabolical Dot。 She'd dissembled and said she didn't know Duhamel。 The Barbarous Barb bit bit my brain and ditzed me to distraction。 Did it play in to payola and sin…tillating Sinatra？
The riddle wracked my dope…diddled head。 It lanced me as I laid iow and lived it up in limbo。
I ran reefer…ripped ripostes with Sammy Davis。 Sammy was one sick Sambo。 Maryjane made him mean…minded。 He ran race riffs like a mau…mau motherfucker。 He teed off on ofay oppression and segued to sepia self…hate and slick slavemaster Sinatra。
Annihilating anecdotes：
Frank frags Sammy at a Mob meet in Miami。 Sammy sings for made Mafia men。 They make him step like Stepin Fetchit and feed him fettuccine with the Cuban kitchen crew。 Frank frees Sammy and eggs him into an encore： 〃No…Count Nigger Me。〃
Sammy slips the schnitzel to Miss Schlitz Beer at a backstage bash for Sinatra。 Sissified Sinatra sincerely thinks that he had first dibs。 His chauffeur shanghais Sammy。 He shunts him to Sheboygan； Wisconsin； and snouts him into a snowstorm in his snapbrim hat and skintight skivvies。
Sinatra stomps onstage as Sammy creams the crowd at the Crescendo。 Sammy blows a bluesy ballad and lights an L&M to look cool。 The crowd cracks up。 Sinatra signals a waiter。 The waiter wings a watermelon up onstage。 The crowd craps its pants。 Sammy laughs to look like he's loving it。 Frank freezes him out and wilts the room with 〃Willow Weep for Me。〃
I spritzed my spin on Sinatra。 Sammy succumbed to its succulence and sucked up to me。 We sulked ourselves silly and sunk into a Sinatra…phobe Abyss。
We hexed him with hellish hate。 We shivved him with a Shinto curse that Crazy Chris cooked up。 We defaced and dart…boarded all his album covers and ratched the records inside。 We worked ourselves into a frenzyfrankly frantic and Francophiliacal。 The fragrance of Frankincense froze usand freed me to act。
I said； 〃Help me steal some furs and run them down to Tj。〃
Sammy said； 〃Yes； Big White Bwana。〃
I said； 〃Call Frank。 Make like you don't hate him； and put out some peace feelers for me。〃
Sammy said； 〃Yes； Sahib。〃
We surreptitiously surveilled Teitelbaum Furs。 We sat in Chris's Chrysler and sunk down to the dash。 We wore distinct disguises。
I played a Shinto shaman。 Dig it： a multicolored monk's robe and sharp shades to shield my eyes。 Sammy posed as a pachuco in peg pants and a cheap cholo chirt。
We restlessly reconnoitered Rodeo Drive。 We learned the layout。 We laid lazy eyes on the fur shop and watched two lowlifes in a late…model Lincoln loop around it themselves。
They looked larcenous。 They looked lizardlike。 They loop…thelooped and licked their lips and surveilled every surface in sight。
They surveilled serpentlike。 We surveilled them serviceably。 They lizard…lunched at Lmnny's Delicatessen。 We noshed knockwurst at the next table and tallied their talk for two days。
The lizards loved liver and onions。 They ordered it and ooh…lala'd and went over their plans plenty loud。 They conclusively confirmed Demon D