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I stared at my ceiling。 I strafed words and pix。 I lingered on 〃I want you〃 and a blonde with a heat rash。
Yesterday and today。 The tightrope and the abyss。
I rolled off my cot。 I cooked up some coffee and skimmed the radio dial。 I caught the morning news on six stations。 Nobody mentioned the Pharaoh Club inferno。
I went through the address book。 I saw a bunch of no…names listed in alphabetical order and some names and numbers listed at the back。
Two name…names/one familiar name/one no…name。
The no…name：
Harvey Glatman （Harvey's TV Repair； HO…492 36）。 2；000。
The familiar name：
Johnny Stompanato； CR…2 8609。 4；000。
Johnny Stomp： ex…Mickey Cohen goon。
I knew Mickey at McNeil Island。 He said Johnny poured the pork to Donna Reed and Rita Hayworth。 Orson Welles filmed the trysts through a 2…way mirror and screened them at a stag night at the Cannes filmfest。
The name…names：
Ida Lupino/CR…622 1 1/6；000。 Steve CochranlOL…65189/ 6；000。
Ida Lupino： Mrs。 Howard Duff。 Film star and director。 Steve Cochran： B…movie stud。
I kicked the names around。 I retrieved two things that Wells and Dinkins said：
〃You were supposed to recruit colored tail for the 〃movie〃 gig。〃 / 〃I didn't like the way that 〃Harvey〃 creep was lookin' at my bitch。〃
Dinkins： rogue cop。 Wells： heist man。 They colluded on the drive…in job。 The 〃movie gig〃 had to be something else。
I ran out to my parents' porch and picked up the 〃Herald〃。 On page two： NIGHTCLUB NIGHTMARE。
They tagged the victims John Doe #1 and #2。 The 〃schvartze〃 described his assailants： 〃Big guysthey'd have to be to mess with me。〃 Two sketches ran on page three。 The sketch artist did not draw Oscar and me。 He drew two bullet…headed pachucos。
I laughed。 I roared。 I did an impromptu shimmy。 We took two Gs off the stiffs。 My half would spring my ax and rent me a slick little love shack。
A big man stepped out of a shadow。 He held out a badge and blocked out my brand…new sunshine。 He said； 〃You silly cocksucker。〃
The badge was real。 The man was all muscle。 He pulled out a claim tag and flicked it on my nose。 He said； 〃You silly fuck。〃
He wore a gold watch and a gold…plated 。45。 He wore a gold ID link。 The 〃EO。〃 ID'd him。
Fred Otashthe big…time Big O。
I twitched。 I shook。 I popped a Popsicle sweat。 A van pulled into the driveway。 Dig the side panels： HARvEY'S TV REPAIR。
A creep stared out the windshield。 He picked his nose。 Otash flicked the claim tag on 〃my〃 nose。
〃You dropped it by the car you torched； and that orderly saw you check Oscar out of Mount Sinai。 He called Danny Getchell。 Danny tailed you down to niggertown and lost you。 He figured you went down there for some smoky meat； and he thought he might nail you ing out of some coon whorehouse。〃
I shook。 I shivered。 I shrugged like I didn't give a shit。 A gyroscope popped out of the van and spun on the roof。 The next…doorneighbor lady walked out on her porch and picked up her morning paper。 The creep ogled her。
I looked at Otash。 Otash looked at me。 It hit me hard：
A fix was in。 The cops John Doe'd Wells and Dinkins deliberately。 Otash did not know that I knew that。 Otash did not know that I knew my victims' names。 I did not tell Oscar their names。 I had to hold it all back from Oscar and Otash。
Otash yawned。 〃Let's wrap this up before your folks get back。 First； quit shaking and lay out last night for me。〃
I laid out a condensed version。 〃Oscar Levant and I got in some trouble at the Pharaoh Club。 We tried to cop some dope； and a white guy and a colored guy attacked us。 I killed them in selfdefense。〃
Otash smiled。 The creep smiled back。 Otash nodded。 The creep hit a switch on his dashboard。 My voice boomed off the gyroscope and covered the whole block：
〃Oscar Levant and I got in some trouble at the Pharaoh Club。 We tried to cop some dope； and〃
Otash nodded。 The creep hit a switch。 My voice died out。
I shook。 I weaved。 My legs went。 I fell back and hit a porch post。 Otash pulled his gun and pinned me toit。
〃Did you take anything off the bodies？〃
I lied big。 〃We took the money out of their wallets and tossed the wallets down a sewer grate。〃
〃Did you find an address book on the white guy？〃
〃No。〃
〃Are you sure？〃
〃Sure I'm sure。 Do you think I'd〃
Otash slapped me。 A big gold ring raked my nose。
〃Here's thequestion； paisan。 Do you want to burn for this？ Do you want me to sweat Oscar cold turkey until he gives you up to corroborate your confession； or do you want to get some middleaged pussy and make friends in the LAPD？〃
My head spun six ways。 My tongue tripped over six ways to express acquiescence。 I stammered。 I stuttered。 Otash slapped me。 Blood burst out of my nose。
〃I'll take that response as a yes and lay it out for you。 One； the Feds intercepted some letters that a certain pink lady wrote to you and shared them with us。 Two； the pink lady's husband has said some entirely unacceptable things about the LAPD and has to be punished。 Your job is to meet the pink lady at a bash at the Wilshire…Ebell tonight； fuck her silly； and get her to admit that her pinko husband is a member of the various mie…front organizations that we suspect he is。 Do you understand your job； paisan？〃
I said； 〃Yes。〃 My voice sounded too deep and overamplifled。 It 〃wah…wahhed〃 off the van。
Otash glared at the creep。 The creep hit a switch。 My voice 〃wah…wahhed〃 and died。
Otash tapped his gun on my chest。 〃That's Harvey Glatman。 He's a genius； but he likes to play with his toys too much。 You meet him at his shop at 5：3 0。 He'll wire you up for the job。〃
The neighbor woman walked out again。 Glatman ogled her。 He panted and fogged up his windshield。
Otash slapped me。 I tasted his ring。
〃Stay scared； Dick。〃
I had to act like I still had a future。 I had to tap the shallow showmust…go…on part of my soul and dig up some desperate ego to pass off for courage。 I had to sort out the shit I stepped into and get up the guts to shaft L。 Trent Woodard for the shit he slung my way。
I repo'd my accordion。 I called Linda and outlined her birthcontrol options。
I called Howard。 He said I was poison。 No booking agent or casting boss would touch me。 I was poison。 I was contagious。 I was the syph and the clap。 L。 Trent Woodard lavishly lauded me in the morning 〃Mirror〃。 He smeared me and slathered me pink。
I called Oscar at Mount Sinai。 He sounded bombed。 He didn't remember the Pharaoh Club and our double homicide。 He thought we drove to Tj。 We caught the mule act and played Gershwin for the mule and a queer matador。 We drove back to L。A。 at dawn。
I pumped him for dope on Fred O。 He said Freddy ran a string of snitches for 〃Hush…Hush〃。 He kept the secret dirt stash that was too hot for 〃Hush…Hush〃 to handle and had every fag bathhouse in the swish alps wired for sound。
Freddy beat up Japs at Manzanar。 Freddy killed Japs on Saipan。 Freddy broke the strike at the Ford plant in Pico Rivera。 Freddy popped a Mickey Cohen punk named Hooky Rothman。 Jack Dragna paid him ten grand。 Freddy popped a Dragna punk。 Mickey paid him ten grand。
I dropped the address…book names。 Oscar di