Two body outlines-one on the bed, one on the floor, dried blood tape-to-tape both places. Clothesline sash wrapped around the bedposts; more sash on the floor; taped circles on the bedsheets, the floor, a nightstand by the bed. A bullet hole circled on one wall; a forensic display on a corkboard: more scalded negatives.
Lab man: 'Just glove prints and Englekling prints on the negatives, we dusted every one of them, then placed most of them back in their original locations. The ones on the board were found here in the bedroom, which as you can tell was where the torture and the killings took place. Now, those small circles on the bed and elsewhere indicate sections of torso, arm and leg tissue scalded off the Englekling brothers, and if you look closely at the floor you'll be able to see patches of singed carpet caused by chemical spills. Both men were shot twice with a silencerfitted .38 revolver. Baffling threads we took off the shells indicate the silencer and indicate why no shots were heard. The bullet hole in the wall is our one real lead, and it's easy to reconstruct what happened. Bax Englekling got free of his bonds, got ahold of the gun and fired a wounding shot before the killer got the gun back and shot him. The shell we took out of the wall had shredded Caucasian flesh and gray arm hair stuck to it, along with 0-plus blood. Both Englekling boys were AB-minus, so we know the perpetrator was hit. The blood drops leading out to the living room and the negatives that he took out to look at indicate that it wasn't a major wound. Lieutenant Hatcher's crew found a blood-soaked 0-plus towel in a sewer down the street, so that was his tourniquet. My last hypothesis is that this bastard really had a hard-on for those negatives.'
Hatcher spoke up. 'And we've got nothing. We've canvassed two dozen times, we've got no eyewitnesses and those goddamned brothers did not have a single K.A. that we've been able to turn. We hit doctors' offices, emergency rooms, train stations, airports and bus stations looking for sightings of a wounded man and got nothing. If the brothers had an address book, it was taken. Nobody saw anything or heard anything. Like my science buddy says, our guy really had a boner for those negatives, which might--and I emphasize 'might'--have something to do with our victims coming forth on that Nite Owl case of yours years ago. They had a dirty-picture theory then, right?'
Dudley said, 'They did indeed, quite unsubstantiated.'
'And the L.A. papers said you just reopened the case.'
'Yes, that's correct.'
'Captain, I regret that we didn't decide to cooperate with you earlier, but put that aside. Have you got anything to give me on the new end of your case that I can use?'
Dudley smiled. 'Chief Parker has authorized me to secure a copy of your case file to read. He said that if I find evidential links to our homicides, he'll release a transcription of the Englekling brothers' 1953 testimony.'
'Which you say pertains to pornography, which our case sure as hell does.'
Dudley lit a cigarette. 'Yes, if it doesn't pertain to heroin just as much.'
Hatcher snorted. 'Captain, if our boy got his chops licked over white horse, he'd have stolen that stuff stashed in the couch.'
'Yes, or the killer was simply a frothing-at-the-mouth psychopath who evinced a psychopathic reaction to the negatives for unfathomable reasons of his own. Frankly, the heroin angle interests me. Have you any evidence that the brothers were either selling or manufacturing it?'
Hatcher shook his head. 'None, and as far as _our_ case goes, I don't think it plays. Have you got a pornography angle on the reopening?'
'No, not as yet. Again, after I've read your case file I'll be in touch.'
Hatcher--ready to bust. 'Captain, you came all the way up here for our evidence, and you got nothing to give in return?'
'I came up here at the urging of Chief Parker, who pledges his full cooperation should your case warrant reciprocity.'
'Big words, sahib, that I don't like the sound of.' Getting ugly--Dudley dug in with a big blarney smile. Bud walked out to the curb, dug in by their rental.
Scared, standing on GO.
Dudley walked out; Hatcher and the lab man locked the printshop. Bud said, 'I don't follow you at all these days, boss.'
'Starting when, lad?'
'Let's try last night with Hinton.'
Dudley laughed. 'You were your old cruel self last night. It warmed my heart and convinced me that the extracurricular work I have planned for you remains within your grasp.'
'What work?'
'In due time.'
'What happened to Hinton?'
'We released him well-chastised and terrified of Sergeant Wendell White.'
'Yeah, but what were you pressing him on?'
'Lad, you have your extracurricular secrets, I have mine. We'll hold a clarification session soon.'
GO. 'No. I just want to know where we both stand on the Nite Owl. _Now_.'
'Edmund Exley, lad. We both stand there.'
'What?'--scared to his own ears.
'_Edmund Jennings Exley_. He's been your raison d'etre since Bloody Christmas, and he's why you don't tell me certain things. I love you, so I respect your omissions. Now reciprocate my love and respect my lack of clarification for the next twelve days and you'll see him destroyed.'
''What are you--' a little kid's voice.
'You've never accorded him credit, so I'll tell you now. As a man he's less than negligible, but as a detective he far exceeds even myself. There. God and yourself witness plaudits for a man I despise. Now will you respect my omissions--as I respect yours?'
Past GO. 'No. Just fucking tell me what you want me to do. Just explain it.'
Dudley laughed, smiled. 'Do nothing for now but listen. I've found out that Thad Green will be retiring to take over the U.S. Border Patrol later this spring. Our new chief of detectives will be either Edmund Exley or myself. His upcoming inspectorship gives Exley the inside track, and Parker favors him personally. I plan on using certain aspects of our mutually withheld evidence to clear the Nite Owl posthaste, establish myself as the new front-runner and ruin Exley in the process. Lad, bear with me for a few more days and I'll guarantee you your own personal revenge.'
The deal was Exley/Dudley vs. Exley.
No contest.
Past GO: the crumbs he spilled to Exley, Exley's promise-- liaison, the hooker snuffs. 'Boss, is there a carrot in this for me?'
'Besides our friend's downfall?'
'Yeah.'
'And in exchange for a full disclosure? Beyond what you gave Exley as part of your field runner agreement?'
Jesus, what the man knew. 'Right.'
Ho Ho Ho. 'Lad, you drive a hard bargain, but will a Chief of Detectives' Special Inquiry suffice? Say 187 P.C. multiple, various jurisdictions?'
Bud stuck out his hand. 'Deal.'
Dudley said, 'Stay away from Exley and treat yourself to a grand clean room at the Victory. I'll be by to see you in a day or so.,,
'You take the car, I got business in Frisco first.'
o o o
He blew forty bucks on a cab, cruised the Golden Gate high on adrenaline. Double cross: a bad deal to survive, then a good deal to win--up from the minors to the majors. Exley had insider tips and sad Trashcan Jack; Dudley had insider juice that almost went psychic. Turnaround: he lied to Dudley to burn down Exley; five years later the man calls it in: lies forgiven, two cops, one torch. San Francisco bright in the distance, Dudley Smith's voice: 'Edmund Jennings Exley.' Chills just saying the name.
Over the bridge, a stop at a pay phone. Long-distance: Lynn's number, ten rings, no answer. 9:10 P.M., a spooker--she should have been home from the Bureau by dark.
