going to brace him on Dudley.'
Vincennes looked around. 'I don't see anybody from Homicide here.'
'You and Fisk caught it, so Homicide doesn't know. I can keep it I.A.-sealed for twenty-four hours or so. It's ours until the press gets it.'
'No APB on Mertens?'
'I'll call out half of l.A. He's a drooling psychotic. We'll get him.'
'Suppose I find him. You don't want him talking old times, not with your father part of it.'
'Take him alive. I want to talk to him.'
Vincennes said, 'For crazy, White's got nothing on you.'
o o o
Ed sealed it.
He called Chief Parker, told him he had an I.A.-related double homicide and was keeping the victims' identities secret. He woke up five I.A. men, filled them in on David Mertens, sent them out to search for him. He made the neighbor lady who called in the squeal take a sedative, go to bed, promise she wouldn't spill the name 'Billy Dieterling' to the press. The press arrived--he mollified them with John Doe IDs, sent them packing. He walked to the end of the block and examined the car--Kleckner watchdogging it--a Packard Caribbean with the front wheels up on the curb, the fender nosed into a tree. The driver's seat, dash and shift lever--bloody; perfect bloody handprints on the outside of the windshield. Kleckner stripped the license plates; Ed told him to drive the car home, stash it, team up with the searchers. Courtesy calls from a pay phone: the watch commander at Rampart Station, the duty M.E. at the City Morgue. A lie: Parker wanted a twenty-four-hour blanket on the killings-- no statements to the press, no autopsy reports circulated. 3:40 A.M., no Homicide brass at the scene--Parker carte-blanched him.
Sealed.
Ed walked back to the house. Quiet--no newsmen, no rubberneckers. Tape outlines--no bodies. Techs dusting, bagging evidence. Fisk in the kitchen doorway--looking nervous. 'Sir, I've got Valburn. Inez Soto's with him. I went down to Laguna on a hunch. You told me Miss Soto knew him.'
'What did Valburn tell you?'
'Nothing. He said he'd only talk to you. I broke it to him, and he cried himself out on the ride up. He said he's ready to make a statement.'
Inez walked out. Grief all over her, her nails chewed bloody. 'I blame you for this. I blame you for pushing Billy to it.'
'I don't know what you mean, but I'm sorry.'
'You had me spy on Raymond. Now you did this.'
Ed stepped toward her. She slapped him, hit him. 'Leave us all alone!'
Fisk grabbed her, eased her outside. Gentle--soft hands, a low voice. Ed walked down the hall looking in rooms.
Valburn in the den, taking pictures off the wall. Bright eyes glazed over, a too-bright voice. 'If I keep doing things I'll be fine.'
A group shot came down. 'I need a full statement.'
'Oh, you'll get one.'
'Mertens killed Hudgens, Billy and Marsalas, plus Wee Willie and those other children. I need the why. Timmy, look at me.'
Timmy plucked a framed photo. 'We were together since 1949. We had our little indiscretions, but we always stayed together and loved each other. Don't give me a speech about getting his killer, Ed. I just couldn't bear it. I'll tell you what you want to know, but try not to be declasse.'
'Timmy--'
Valburn threw the frame at the wall. 'David Mertens, goddamn you!'
Glass shattered. The picture landed face up: Raymond Dieterling holding an inkwell. 'Start with the pornography. Jack Vincennes talked to you about it five years ago, and he thought you were holding back.'
'Is this another third degree?'
'Don't make it one.'
Timmy squared a stack of frames. 'Jerry Marsalas made David create that strange . . . filth. Jerry was a very bad man. He'd been David's companion for years, and he regulated the drugs that kept him . . . relatively normal. Sometimes he'd escalate and de-escalate his dosages and get David to do commercial art piecework, just so he could keep the money. Raymond paid Jerry to look after David. He got David the job at _Badge of Honor_ so that Billy could look after him, too--Billy ran the camera crew since the show first went on.'
Ed said, 'Don't get ahead of yourself. Where did Marsalas and Mertens find the posers?'
Timmy hugged his pictures. 'Fleur-de-Lis. Marsalas had used the service for years. He'd buy call girls when he was flush, and he knew lots of Pierce's old string of girls and lots of . . . sexually adventurous people that the girls told him about. He found out that a lot of Fleur-de-Lis customers had a bent for specialty smut, and he talked some of Pierce's old girls into letting him voyeur their sex parties. Jerry took pictures, David took pictures, and Jerry escalated David's drug intake and made him do pasteup work. The ink blood was all David's idea. Jerry hired some studio art director to make finished books out of the pictures and took them to Pierce. Do you follow? I don't know what _you_ know.'
Ed got out his notebook. 'Miller Stanton told us some background things. Patchett and Dieterling were partners at the time of the Atherton killings, and you know I make Mertens for them. Just keep going. If I need something clarified, I'll tell you.'
Timmy said, 'All right then. If you don't know it, the ink pictures were similar to the woundings on the Atherton victims. Pierce didn't know it when he saw the books, I guess only policemen saw the evidence photos. He also didn't know that David Mertens was the Wennerholm killer's new identity, so when Marsalas hatched this plan to sell the books and went to Pierce for financing, he just thought it was dirty books that compromised his prostitutes and their customers. He turned Marsalas down on his offer, but he did buy some of the books to sell through Fleur-de-Lis. Then Marsalas went to this man Duke Cathcart, and he went to these people the Englekling brothers. Ed, your Mr. Fisk hinted that all this has to do with the Nite Owl case, but I don't--'
'I'll tell you later. You're talking about early '53, and I'm following you so far. Just keep telling it in order.'
Timmy laid his pictures down. 'Then Patchett went to Sid Hudgens. He and Hudgens were going to be partners in some extortion thing that I don't know anything about, and Pierce told Hudgens about Marsalas and his smut. He'd had Marsalas checked out, and he knew he was a regular on the _Badge of Honor_ set, which interested Hudgens, because he had always wanted to do an expose on the show for _Hush-Hush_. Pierce gave Hudgens a few of the books he'd held back from Fleur-de-Lis, and Hudgens approached Marsalas. He demanded information on the show's stars and threatened Jerry with exposure of his smut dealings if he didn't cooperate. Jerry gave him some tame stuff on Max Pelts, and a little while later it appeared in print. Then Hudgens was murdered, and of course it was Jerry who put David up to it. He lowered his drug dosage and drove him insane. David reverted to his old . . . to the way he killed the children. Marsalas did it because he was afraid Hudgens would keep trying to extort him. He went with David, and he stole Hudgens' _Badge of Honor_ files from his house, including an incomplete file Hudgens had on him and David. I don't think he knew that Pierce already had carbons of the files he and Hudgens were going to use for their blackmail thing, or that Pierce knew the bank where Hudgens kept his original files stashed.'
Three key questions coming up; more corroboration first. 'Timmy, when Vincennes questioned you five years ago, you acted suspiciously. Did you know back then that Mertens made the smut?'
'Yes, but I didn't know who David _was_. All I knew was that Billy kept an eye on him, so I kept quiet to Jack.'
Question number one. 'How do you know all this? Everything you've told me.'
Timmy's eyes glazed fresh. 'I found out tonight. After the hotel, Billy wanted that awful policeman's hints about Johnny Stompanato explained. Billy's known most of the story for years, but he wanted to know the rest. We went to Raymond's house in Laguna. Raymond knew about the more recent things from Pierce, and he told Billy the whole story. I just listened.'
'And Inez was there.'
