L. A. Confidential

"Look, I saw something I think you should see."

"Just bring me the woman."

The woman five years post-file burning-Ly

Still a showstopper. A brunette now, a thirty-fivish beauty drawing stares. She saw him. Jack got flutters: his file.

She walked out. Jack said, "I didn't want this to happen."

"You let it. And aren't you afraid of what I know about you?" Something skewed: she was too calm five minutes from a bracing. "I've got this scary captain looking after me. If it came out, I'm betting he'd kibosh it."

"Don't make any bets you can't cover. And I'm only doing this because Bud told me he'd get hurt if I didn't."

"What else did Bud tell you?"

"Bad things about your scary captain. Can we go now? I want to get this over with."

They walked across the street, up the back Bureau stairs. Fisk met them outside I.A., steered them to Exley's office. A scary set-up: scary Captain Ed. Ray Pinker, a desk covered with medical stuff-vials, syringes. A polygraph machine-backup if the truth juice failed.

Pinker filled a hypo. Exley pointed Ly

Ly

Ly

Pinker took her arm, injected her. Exley punched a tape machine. Ly

Slurs right off. "Hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninetysev, nine-six..

Pinker checked her eyes, nodded. Jack grabbed a chair. Still too calm-he could taste it.

Exley coughed. "3/22/58, present with the witness are myself, Sergeant Duane Fisk, Sergeant John Vince

Fisk grabbed a notepad. Exley said, "Miss Bracken, how old are you?"

A slight slur. "Thirty-four."

"And your occupation?"

"Businesswoman."

"Do you own Veronica's Dress Shop in Santa Monica?"

"Yes."

"Why did you choose the name 'Veronica's'?"

"A personal joke."

"Please elaborate."

"It's a name from my old life."

"How specifically?"

A dreamy smile. "I used to be a prostitute made up to resemble Veronica Lake."

"Who convinced you to do that?"

"Pierce Patchett."

"I see. Did Pierce Patchett kill a man named Sid Hudgens in April 1953?"

"No. I mean I don't know. Why would he?"

"Do you know who Sid Hudgens was?"

"Yes. A scandal-sheet writer."

"Did Patchett know Hudgens?"

"No. I mean if he did know him, he would have told me, a famous man like that."

A lie-she couldn't be full on the juice. She had to know he knew she was lying-she was thinking he'd cover her to protect himself.

Exley: "Miss Bracken, do you know who killed a girl named Kathy Janeway in the spring of 1953?"

"No."

"Do you know a man named Lamar Hinton?"

"Yes."

"Please elaborate."

"He worked for Pierce."

"In what capacity?"

"As a driver."

"And when was this?"

"Several years ago."

"Do you know where Hinton is now?"

"No."

"Elaborate on your answer, please."

"No, he went away, I don't know where he went."

"Did Hinton attempt to kill Sergeant Jack Vince

"No."

She told him no back then.

"Who did try to kill him?"

"I don't know."

"Who else worked or works as a driver for Patchett?" "Chester Yorkin."

"Please elaborate."

"Chet, Chester Yorkin, he lives in Long Beach somewhere."

"Does Pierce Patchett suborn women into prostitution?"

"Yes."

"Who killed the six people at the Nite Owl Coffee Shop in April 1953?"

"I don't know."

"Does Pierce Patchett sell a variety of illegal items through a service known as Fleur-de-Lis?"

"I don't know."

A huge lie. Hink on her face: veins pulsing.

Exley: "Does Dr. Terry Lux perform plastic surgery on Patchett's prostitutes in order to increase their resemblance to movie stars?"

Veins smoothing out. "Yes."

"Is Patchett in fact a long-term procurer of expensive call girls?"

"Yes."

"Did Patchett distribute expensive and artfully produced pornography during the spring of 1953?"

"I don't know."

White knuckles. Jack grabbed a notepad, wrote: "Patchett a chem whiz. L.B.'s lying & I think she's on dope to counter pentothal. Get blood sample."

"Miss Bracken, does-"

Jack passed the note. Exley sca

"Miss Bracken, does Patchett possess secret files stolen from Sid Hudgens?"

"I don't kn-"

Pinker grabbed Ly

Exley wiped his face-red, mottled. "I wasn't sure myself. I thought she might have been confused."

Jack handed him «Whisper». "I knew how she should answer better than you. Captain, you should see this."

Scary: that red face, those eyes. Exley read the piece, tore the rag in half. "White did this. You go up to San Bernardino and talk to Sue Lefferts' mother. I'm going to break that whore."

San Berdoo in an uproar: Exley breaking that whore as a slide show. "Hilda Lefferts" in the phone book, directions, the house: white shingles, a cinderblock add-on.

A gra

He ran over. She squealed, "Let my Susie rest in peace!"

Jack shoved «Whisper» in her face. "An L.A. policeman talked to you, right? Big man about forty? You told him your daughter had a boyfriend who looked like Duke Cathcart right before the Nite Owl. He told her 'get used to calling me "Duke."' The policeman showed you mugshots and you couldn't make the boyfriend. Is this true? You read this and tell me."

She read, fast, squinting away sunlight. "But he said he was a policeman, not a private detective. Those were police-type pictures he showed me, and it wasn't my fault that I couldn't identify Susie's beau. And I want to go on record as stating that Susie was a virgin when she died."

"Ma'am, I'm sure she was-"

"And I want it to go on record that that policeman or whatever checked underneath the new wing on my house and found not a thing amiss. Young man, you're a policeman, aren't you?"

Jack shook his head-it felt sludgy. "Lady, what are you teffing me?"

"I'm telling you that Mr. Private Eye Policeman or whatever crawled around under my house two months or so ago, because I told him Susan Nancy's beau did the same thing right after this ruckus they had with this other fellow right before that Nite Owl thing that you people keep tormenting me over, may Susie and the other victims rest in peace. All he found were rodents, not signs of foul play, so there."

So there.

Gra

It fucking could not be. Bud White did not have the brains to let a card that strong sit.

Jack took a flashlight down under-Hilda Lefferts stood watching, so there. Dust, rot, mothball stink-light on dirt, rats, rat eyes glowing. Burlap, mothballs, gristle-caked bones, a skull with a hole between the eyes.