The room triple-rippled. Elmer slapped the table and focused eyes his way.
“Look, Dud’s covered as long as Jack Horrall serves as Chief. We’ve got our next chief right here in this room, and it’s either Brother Bill or Brother Thad. We all know how bent the Dudster is, but we’ve got ourselves a homicide job right now. The next chief can put the hurt to Dud — but we should only talk up real case leads.”
Thad said, “Hear, hear.”
Parker said, “Elmer’s right. And all our Dudley Smith accusations are second- and thirdhand supposition.”
Buzz said, “I hate that mick cocksucker.”
Blanchard said, “That’s hot off the ticker tape. Roll the presses on that one.”
More yuks ensued. Elmer slapped the table. He was bennified out to the planet Pluto.
“I got a lead, but I can’t reveal my source on the first part of it. It’s a no-shit, somebody-killed-those-guys-at-the-klubhaus lead.”
Thad said, “We’re listening.”
Blanchard said, “Elmer tends to draw things out.”
Elmer laughed. “My source told me a crazy Jap and a queer white kid frequented the klubhaus. The Jap was a nutty sword man who killed chickens and licked blood off the swords he used, and the fruit kid was a jazz-club habitué. Rice and Kapek popped a Jap like that in January, and I witnessed the property log-in, but all the paperwork and property has gone missing, and I can’t remember this Jap’s name.”
Thad said, “Okay, that’s the first part, and you’ve still got our attention.”
Elmer said, “You’ve got the gist right there, which Frankie Carbajal confirmed last night. But he added that the Jap sold curios for a living, which narrows down a possible make on him. There was queer action going on in the upstairs bedroom, and any Jap sucking blood off samurai swords looks like a real lead to me.”
Buzz grabbed his crotch. “I got your real lead, throbbing twelve inches.”
That roused yuks and yawns. Blanchard nipped on the jug and stubbed out his cigarette.
“Here’s your real lead, but I’m not sure how it pertains to the klubhaus job. First, there’s this. Ashida broke Mondo Díaz, but he took off and split back to Baja — which I don’t like, given what he is to Dudley. It turns out that Díaz is a chemistry whiz, and he went to college in Germany, and he knows something called ‘microdot technology,’ and he betrayed Salvy what’s-his-name and threw in with some left- and right-wing guys he calls the ‘Kameraden.’ They’re out to profit off the war, they’re running a shakedown racket, they’ve got mail drops and intermediaries, so nobody knows nothing they’re not supposed to. It’s all one big fucked-up megillah, and Mondo’s personal high-up was a certain ex-chief of ours named James Edgar Davis.”
Oooga-booga. Nobody’s yawning now. Elmer recalled Joan’s diary. Joan laid out good Davis dish.
Thad slapped the table. The room simmered down quick.
“We’ve got to act on this. For the PD’s sake, if nothing else.”
Parker said, “I happen to know that Dudley has plans to pentothal Davis. We need to get to him first.”
Sweep fever resumed. They went Mex sweep to Chink sweep in a hot tick. Two squads formed. One Squad: L. Blanchard, T. Brown. Two Squad: B. Parker, E. Jackson, B. Meeks.
We rendezvous at Kwan’s, 1300. Chink-o-phile Davis haunts C-town nonstop. He’s Chink-fluent and Chink-defined. He’s got a rumored C-town pied-à-terre.
The sweep could wait. Elmer detoured first. He racked his brain and snagged that log-in Jap’s name. There it is. It’s Robert “Banzai Bob” Yoshida.
He dipped by Central Station and combed the Alien Squad files. He found what he missed the first time.
Banzai Bob’s log-in sheet. 1/24/42. No habeas tab. The klubhaus job occurred 1/29. Banzai Bob was a railroad clerk. Banzai Bob was not a curio dealer.
Elmer called the Lincoln Heights Jail and talked to the watch boss. The boss checked detention records and came back on the line. He said Banzai Bob had been in stir, 1/24 to now. That nixed him as a klubhaus-job suspect. Elmer told the boss to plant Bob in a sweatbox. He’d be right there.
He bopped to Lincoln Heights. Banzai Bob spoke good English. Bob was native-born. He voted for FDR three times. This internment drive’s the shits. He’ll be on the bus for Manzanar, 3/25. It’s like Pharaoh and the Jews. Let my people go!!!
Elmer commiserated. Elmer slipped Bob a ten-spot and a stack of girlie mags. Bob was delighted. Bob revealed this:
He didn’t know no queer white boy. He didn’t know no klubhaus or jazz-club crawlers. He didn’t know no curio men. His daddy bequeathed him his samurai swords and nail-studded dick sheaths. Who knows where Daddy got them. Daddy was bughouse crazy. Daddy committed seppuku on 10/8/39. Sayonara, Daddy.
Banzai Bob conceded this:
Yeah, he sword-slaughtered chickens. So what? He was a part-time Buddhist priest. It was like them Jew rabbis. They kosherized food. He decapitated it.
Sayonara, Bob. You’ve been exonerated. Elmer laid tracks for Kwan’s.
Two Squad was set to go. Buzz supplied beavertail saps. Bill Parker supplied rock salt — packed shotguns. He cautioned Elmer and Buzz. The PD was Hop Sing — allied. Ace Kwan was Jack Horrall’s lapdog. Go easy on Hop Sing storefronts.
They fortified on mai tais and pork fried rice. Ace Kwan served them. Ace professed ignorance. Don’t know Jim Davis’ hideaway!!! Ace lied like a rug.
They lit out on North Broadway. It brought back New Year’s Eve and french-fried Eddie Leng and the start of all this multitudinous shit. They lit out three abreast. Elmer gassed on their mission. Oooga-booga. They packed pump guns and walked tall.
They bypassed Hop Sing fronts. They leveled rival tong fronts. They blew out plate-glass windows. They raided chop suey pits and bookie joints. They dumped the fly-specked produce in open-air stalls. They prowled Chink-smut theaters on East College Street. They saw surreptitious Chinamen slam their underhung ham.
They ran field interviews. They got Don’t know where Chief Davis live!!! ten million times. They tore through “O” dens. They dumped hopheads off dope pallets and got ditto. They knocked over the late Eddie Leng’s Kowloon. Elmer spotted a Four Families warlord. Buzz dunked his face in a bowl of wor-wonton soup. The warlord revealed this:
I see Dudley Smith and Lin Chung!!! They wrestle Davis into car!!! Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me!!! Parking lot on North Hill!!! Broad-daylight abduction!!!
That was lead #1. A B-girl at Moo-Shoo’s Mandarin disgorged lead #2.
Jim Davis live above garage off Alameda and Ord. He fly Hop Sing and Don’t Tread on Me door flags. He keep sewer rats as pets.
Two Squad hotfooted on over. They kicked down said door. Jim Davis was gone. The ex-chief lived in a rodent resort. Note the swastika wall flags. Note the beaver pix taped beside them. Sewer rats ate out of dog dishes. A box of hand grenades sat by the bed.
They tossed the place. Buzz snatched the beaver pix. No further leads surfaced. Bill Parker decreed a breather. They schlepped back to Kwan’s and revitalizized.
Uncle Ace served lunch-crowd leftovers and Singapore Slings. He told Elmer Miss Lake called and said to call her back. Elmer ducked over to the pay phone and slug-dialed Kay’s number. He got two rings. Kay came on the line. She said, “Elmer, is that you?”