by James Ellroy
Pete hobnobs with pushers. Pete schleps cab calls. Pete walks flypaper. Wayne Senior plays golf. Wayne Senior shoots skeet. Wayne Senior drinks with Dick Nixon.
He worked for them. They were inimical types. They ran real to putative father. He loved both their women. He lived sans women. Wendell D. and Lynette made that fly. He head-tripped women. He head-tripped Barb mostly. He head-tripped Barb until then.
He hit her. She grabbed a knife. She ran from him and Pete. She grabbed the war. She sifted shit through.
Pete. Pete’s gigs. The Life.
She kicked dope. She kicked the Life. She ran smug now. She jumped off flypaper. Her shit cohered. She lost her allure. He loved her more. He liked her less. His torch fizzled.
He head-tripped Janice. It ran twenty years now. He fucked her for payback on Dallas. He extricated. She paid.
She still limped. She still cramped. Her breath still spasmed. He saw her in Vegas. He saw her with Ward and solo. She saw him watching sometimes. She always smiled. She always waved. She always blew kisses.
It took him back. Old glimpses in windows. Peeks through cracked doors.
She was forty-six now. He was thirty-three. Her hips cocked funny. She had limp side-effects. He wondered how far her legs spread.
Relight the torch. Dig the glow. Groove on the cause-and-effect. She’s real again. She’s in your head—because you’re back with Wayne Senior.
Grunt work. Hate-mail duty. Let’s study hate. Let’s see how it works. Let’s see what it says.
Wayne Senior said I’m storing intelligence. I’m skimming data off the FBI. I’m polling resentment. I’m taking its pulse. It’s academic for now.
Wayne Senior spoke lofty. Wayne Senior spoke abstract. Wayne Senior spoke with forked tongue.
Wayne knew:
He’s teaching you. Read the hate. Don’t hate fatuously.
He rotated. He ran Saigon to D.C. He pulled intercepts. He did sneak-ins. He bagged mail. He mimeographed. He print-dusted. He got zero. He ran ninhydrin tests. He got loop whirls and partials. He learned the Hate Alphabet.
He did re-sneaks. He replaced the mail. He savored the Hate Alphabet.
A for Anger. F for Fear. I for Idiocy. D for Dumb. R for Ridiculous. J for Justification.
Coloreds mock order. Coloreds foist chaos. Coloreds breed lunacy. The haters knew it. Wayne Senior knew it. He knew it. The haters lived to hate. That was wrong. That was lunacy. The haters lived disordered lives. The haters thrived on chaos. The haters mimed the hatees.
S for Stupid. R for Resentful. W for Weak.
He learned his lessons. He took Wayne Senior’s Hate Course. He searched for Wendell Durfee.
He rotated south. He made Cuban runs. He rotated west to L.A. He prowled Compton. He prowled Willowbrook. He prowled Watts.
He watched Negroes. Negroes watched him. He stayed cool. He stayed calm. He knew his ABCs. Wendell was nowhere. Wendell, where you be? I hate you. I’ll kill you. Hate won’t hinder me.
Hate smart—like Wayne Senior. P for Poised. B for Brave. C for Collected.
He did intercepts. He culled hate. He caught lunacy.
Weird:
He muscled a deadbeat. It was late ’66. The clown was named Sirhan Sirhan. Sirhan had hate tracts. RFK got some hate notes. They were margin scrawled the same way.
All cap letters/headaches and pus/“Jewish Cancer Machine.” Sirhan drools. Sirhan hates stupid. Sirhan foists lunacy.
Don’t do it. It’s counterproductive. It’s dumb. It’s insanity.
Hate smart. Like Wayne Senior. Like me.
105
(Las Vegas, Sparta, Bay St. Louis, Cuban Waters, 11/4/67–12/3/67)
You’re homeless.
You’re a Vegas transient. You’re embargoed at home. You’re a fucking refugee.
It’s jail. It’s Skid Row. It mocks rotation. It’s Splitsville. It’s mock-divorce. It’s past separation.
Barb split. Pete traveled—all-love rotations. Pete flew back alone—non-love rotations. The trips trashed him. The trips taught him. The trips made him see: You hate Vegas now. Without Barb it’s shit. You’re Joe Vegas Refugee.
He had the trifecta. It was all Vegas-bred—Tiger/the dope biz/the Cavern. He couldn’t split. The Boys held his lease. It was sealed and marked “Dallas.”
He loved the trifecta. He hated the venue. They all intertwined.
Stateless.
He met Barb. She slung plates. No high heels/no spangles. Her sister worked her. Her sister lubed her—goooood profit perks. Barb B.—ex-lounge queen. Waitress/restaurateur.
He couldn’t have her. He couldn’t have her on his terms. He couldn’t have her at his location.
He hubbed in Vegas. He flew to Mississippi. He hated it. Dumb crackers and dumb niggers. Bugs and sand fleas.
He made boat runs. He got seasick. His pulse raced. He snarfed Dramamine. The runs bored him. Stealth and scalps and nothing more. No good resistance.
He was a transient. He was travel-screwed. He was a rotation refugee.
You want things. You can’t have things. You can’t give things up. You’ve got habits. You don’t need them. You can’t give them up.
Cigarettes. Pizza pie and pecan pie. Stiff drinks and steak.
He hid his habits in Sparta. Barb never saw. He flew out. He de-purified. He binged on rotations.
Transient. Glutton. Exile. Exiled on boat runs/exiled down south/exiled in Vegas.
Drac’s town now—Drac’s town cosmetic.
He knew Drac. They went back. They met in ’53. He worked for Drac. He scored Drac dope. He scored Drac his women. Drac was a glutton then. Drac was a glutton still.
He cruised the DI. He bribed a Mormon for a look-see. He bought a looooong look.
Drac dozed. Drac wore drip cords. Drac got a transfusion. Mormon blood/hormone-laced/pure. Drac was gaunt. Drac was svelte. Drac was chic. Drac wore a Kotex-box hat and Kleenex-box slippers.
Drac was on dope. Barb was off dope. Pete pushed dope non-boocoo. Pete was hamstrung. Pete was profit-screwed. Pete was a dope refugee.
He begged Stanton. He said let me expand. Stanton always refused. He pouched Stanton. He pleaded and begged. Stanton always refused. Stanton always cited Carlos. Stanton always cited the Boys.
They don’t want it. Live with it. It stands as their call. He lived with it. He hated it. He felt refugized.
He got ideas.
I’ll fly to Saigon. I’ll brace Stanton. I’ll break the truce. I’ll tell Barb to stamp my visa. I’ll make her unleash my gonads.
I’ll tell Stanton to expand the biz or shove it up your ass. Stanton would shit. Carlos would shit. The Boys might temporize.
It might work. It might shake them. It might serve to de-refugize. He needed it. He needed something. He needed MORE.
He got bored. He got crazed. He fretted shit.
Like: Cuba—mucho boat runs—no at-sea resistance.
Like: Bob Relyea—nervous and hi-amped.
He’s talking trash. He’s saying our work’s dead. He’s saying I’ve got work transcendent.
He went by Bob’s kompound. He saw Bob with guns. He saw Bob burn three-zero codes.
Huh? What? Don’t grab at straws. Don’t be this skittish refugee.
He got bored. He got crazed. His pulse skipped.
DOCUMENT INSERT: 12/3/67. Bug-extract transcript. Marked: “Conñdential”/“Stage-1 Covert”/“Eyes Only”: Director, SA D. C. Holly.
Location: Card room/Grapevine Tavern/St. Louis/listening-post-accessed. Speaking: Norbert Donald Kling & Rowland Mark DeJohn, paroled felons (Armed Robbery/Bunco/GTA) & presumed organized-crime associates. (Conversation 14.1 minutes in progress.)
NDK: And people hear, you know. Word goes out.
RMDJ: It’s like the name of this place. The Grapevine.
NDK: Yeah. The grape for the ape.
RMDJ: Guys come through, they hear, they start thinking.
NDK: They think, shit, 50 G’s for a good deed, and it don’
t go unrewarded.
RMDJ: You do it down south, no jury would convict you.
NDK: You’re right. It’s like those guys in Mississippi. They wax those civil rights humps and walk scot-free.
NDK: You know who I saw here? Like in May?
RMDJ: Who?
NDK: Jimmy Ray. I bought goofballs off him in Jeff City.
RMDJ: I heard he broke out.
NDK: He did. He breaks out, then he’s disappointed that there’s no big manhunt.
RMDJ: That’s Jimmy in a nutshell. Hey, world, notice me.
NDK: He hates niggers. You got to give him that.
RMDJ: He was tight with the guards. At Jeff City, I mean. I never liked that about him.
NDK: The guards were klanned-up. That was the attraction to Jimmy.
RMDJ: That one guard was a pisser. Remember him? Bob Relyea.
NDK: Bob the Brain. Jimmy called him that.
RMDJ: I heard he’s klanned-up down south now.
NDK: Klanned-up and a snitch is what I heard. As in, he works for the Feds.
RMDJ: That could be. Remember, he left Jeff and joined the Army.
NDK: Jimmy said he might go see him.
RMDJ: Jimmy’s a talker. He always talked about a whole lot of things.
NDK: He heard about the bounty. He nearly bust a gut talking about that.
RMDJ: Talk’s talk. Jimmy said he fucked Marilyn Monroe, which don’t mean he really did it.
(Non-applicable conversation follows.)
DOCUMENT INSERT: 12/3/67. Bug-extract transcript. Marked: “Conñdential”/“Stage-1 Covert”/“Eyes Only”: Director, SA D. C. Holly.
Location: Office/Mike Lyman’s Restaurant/Los Angeles/listening-post-accessed. Speaking: Unidentified Males #1 & #2, presumed organized-crime associates. (Conversation 1.9 minutes in progress.)
UM #1: … you’ve heard the stories, right?
UM #2: Just glimmers. Carlos knows they’re on the boat, so he sends some guys to the Keys.
UM #1: Not just any guys. He sends Chuck the Vice and Nardy Scavone.
UM #2: Oh, Jesus.
UM #1: You have to assume that he wanted to prolong things. It is well known that Chuck and Nardy work slow.
UM #2: I have heard the stories, believe me.
UM #1: Here’s the good part. You’ll like it.
UM #2: So tell me. Don’t be a fucking cock-tease.
UM #1: Okay, they spot the boat. It’s docked someplace quiet. They sneak up quiet and climb on board.
UM #2: Come on, don’t string it—
UM #1: Arden and Danny see them coming. Danny starts bawling and saying rosaries. Arden’s got a gun. She shoots Danny in the back of the head to put him out of his misery. She aims at fucking Chuck and Nardy, but the fucking gun jams.
UM #2: Fuck, that is rich. That is just—
UM #1: Chuck and Nardy grab her and tie her down. Carlos wants to know why they rabbited and did someone tip them off. Chuck’s got his vice in a toolbox. He puts Arden’s head in. He leans on the handle, but Arden won’t give it up.
UM #2: Jesus.
UM #1: He cracked all her teeth and broke her jaw. She still wouldn’t talk.
UM #2: Jesus.
UM #1: She bit her tongue off. She couldn’t talk if she wanted to, so Nardy capped her.
UM #2: Jesus.
(Non-applicable conversation follows).
DOCUMENT INSERT: 12/3/67. Pouch communiqué. To: Dwight Holly. From: Fred Otash. Marked: “Conñdential”/“Eyes Only”/ “Read & Burn Immediately.”
DH,
Here’s the summary on my dealings with the PROSPECT to date, including my reasoning on why I think we should use him. I hate writing things down, so READ & BURN IMMEDIATELY.
1 - Contact with PROSPECT established 8/16/67, at bar (“Acapulco”) downstairs from PROSPECT’s residence (“Har-K Apts”) in Montreal. PROSPECT was using alias “Eric Starvo Galt.” I utilized my fake appearance & Latin accent & used the alias “Raul Acias.”
2 - At Acapulco I sold PROSPECT amphetamine capsules & posed as smuggler with segregationist leanings. PROSPECT & I met at Acapulco & Neptune Tavern over next several nights & discussed politics. PROSPECT admitted 2 recent robberies in states (East St. Louis, Ill. & New Hebron, Miss.) but did not mention his 4/23/67 prison escape. PROSPECT stated that he also robbed a prostitute & pimp at a “fuck pad” in Montreal shortly after his arrival. He got $1,700 but was spending $ fast & would “soon be broke.”
3 - PROSPECT discussed his need to secure ID which would allow him to get a Canadian passport & thus travel to other countries. I told him I had connections & would help him. I lent him small amounts of money, supplied him with amphetamines & discussed politics with him. He frequently mentioned his hatred of M. L. King & desire to “kill niggers in Rhodesia.” I stalled him per the ID papers & continued to lend him $. PROSPECT became nervous & stated his desire to return to the states, go to Alabama & “Maybe go to work for Governor Wallace.” I saw that he was determined to go & improvised a plan.
4 - I told him I had some narcotics for him to drive across the border & would pay him $1,200. He agreed to do the job. I filled a briefcase with sand, locked it & gave it to him, then met him on the American side. This was a test to see if he would steal the briefcase or would prove to be as compliant as I thought he would be.
5 - He passed the test & made 2 other “narcotics runs” for me. I saw that he was determined to drive to Alabama & told him I would get him his ID, a new car & more $, because I had more “jobs” for him to do. PROSPECT stated that he wanted to spend time in Birmingham, because of its history of “nigger bombings.” I gave him $2,000 & told him to wait for a letter at Birmingham General Delivery. I also gave him a phone-drop # to call me at in New Orleans.
6 - This was the risk part of the operation, because there was a chance the PROSPECT would ditch out on me. If he didn’t, it would confirm his pliable nature & suitable nature for our job.
7 - PROSPECT called phone-drop on 8/25 & gave his address as “Economy Grill & Rooms” in Birmingham. I mailed him $600 & a small supply of biphetamine capsules, flew to Birmingham & surveilled him from discreet distances. PROSPECT visited the National States Rights Party HQ, purchased right-wing leaflets & bumper stickers & holed up in his room. I called him (allegedly long-distance) & agreed to give him $2,000 (advance against future jobs) so he could buy a new car. I wired the $ to him & surveilled his purchase of a 1966 Mustang.
8 - PROSPECT secured an Alabama driver’s license (9/6/67) under name “Eric Starvo Galt” & registered the ’66 Mustang. I met PROSPECT in Birmingham, drank & talked politics with him & told him to buy some camera equipment to sell in Mexico. PROSPECT purchased $2,000 worth of equipment, which I told him to “sit on.”
9 - PROSPECT remained in Birmingham, took a locksmith’s course & dance lessons & surreptitiously filmed women from his rooming-house window. I remained in Birmingham & took pains never to be seen with him. My plan was to situate PROSPECT in various places & give him orders that would sound ridiculous should he be captured & interrogated after our operation. PROSPECT’s need for $ & amphetamines kept him beholden to me.
10 - I wrote PROSPECT on 10/6/67 & told him to meet me in Nuevo Laredo, Mexico with the camera equipment. PROSPECT agreed to meet me after he “fenced the goods.” Again, I promised to secure him valid ID papers & added that I could get him a Canadian passport. PROSPECT met me in Nuevo Laredo with $ from the equipment he fenced, at a loss. I told him I was not mad & had more “narcotics runs” for him. PROSPECT was mad that I had not yet secured papers for him, but agreed to stay in Mexico & wait for my calls.
11 - PROSPECT traveled throughout Mexico by car & called me at phone-drop in New Orleans. I forwarded sums of $ to him at American Express offices & paid him for 4 “narcotics runs” from McAllen to Juarez. I met with PROSPECT 4 times from 10/22/67 to 11/9/67 & drew him out on political issues. PROSPECT described a “Bounty” offered thru the Grapevine Bar in St. Louis ($50,000 to kill ML
K), which sounded like a fantasy but indicated that he might be willing to step up for D-Day, which would upgrade his role in our plan. PROSPECT was drinking heavily, taking amphetamines & smoking marijuana in Mexico & while there got into altercations with prostitutes & pimps. PROSPECT drove to Los Angeles (without calling me) & called with address on 11/21/67. He stated he wants more work from me, is taking self-hypnosis & self-improvement courses & is visiting “segregationist bookstores.” He urged me to get him his passport papers as an “advance against future jobs.”
12 - PROSPECT remains in L.A. I’m L.A.-based, so I’ll be able to surveil him. PROSPECT remains pliable & I’m convinced he’ll work for us. Have we got a date & or location yet?
I’ll pouch again when required. Again, READ & BURN.
F.O.
DOCUMENT INSERT: 12/4/67. Pouch communiqué. To: Fred Otash. From: Dwight Holly. Marked: “Confidential”/“Eyes Only”/“Read & Burn.”
F.O.,
No date or location yet. Continue with PROSPECT. Will try to secure RED RABBIT’s travel plans.
READ THIS & BURN.
D.C.H.
DOCUMENT INSERT: 12/4/67. Atlanta Constitution headline and subhead:
KING ANNOUNCES “POOR PEOPLE’S MARCH” ON WASHINGTON
PLEDGES TO WORK FOR “REDISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH”
DOCUMENT INSERT: 12/5/67. Cleveland Plain Dealer headline and subhead:
KING ON SPRING MARCH:
“TIME TO CONFRONT POWER STRUCTURE MASSIVELY”
DOCUMENT INSERT: 12/6/67. Verbatim FBI telephone call transcript. Marked: “Recorded at the Director’s Request”/“Classified Confidential 1-A: Director’s Eyes Only.” Speaking: Director Hoover, President Lyndon B. Johnson.
LBJ: Is that you, Edgar?
JEH: It’s me, Mr. President.
LBJ: That goddamn march. It’s all over the news.
JEH: I’ve read the announcements. They’ve fulfilled my very worst fears and apprehensions.
LBJ: That son-of-a-bitch is bringing an army to protest me, after all I’ve done for the Negro people.
JEH: The march will unleash a bloodbath.
