by James Ellroy
Approaching footsteps forced me to flee. Busboys saw me escape down the alley, disguised as a small Chinese man. I removed my male clothing in a gas station men’s room and walked out as a woman in blouse and slacks. I was not seen entering or leaving the men’s room and had stashed a handbag under some rocks near the corner of Temple and Main. The bloody clothes and mask went in them; the bloody knife went down a sewer grate. I blended into a passing parade and chanted “Lest we forget!”
The clothes and mask burned. I watched the smoke rise over Wetherly Drive and drift down to the Strip. I sat at the backyard table and wrote Scotty a letter.
Dear boy, I will wear my Saint Christopher medal until you safely return. What are you thinking now? Will full-scale war seem prosaic after what you saw here? I wish I could run off to Scotland with you. We would make love in a cottage on the moors and frolic with a rambunctious dog I just met. We had only a few weeks together, and I never saw you in kilts.
I left the letter outside for the postman and went in to the piano. I was badly out of practice, but gained momentum as I played. Lee failed to appear. The phone failed to ring. No one knocked on the door. The Chopin was for Claire, the Grieg was for Scotty, the dank Rachmaninoff étude was for Hideo. I sent magisterial Beethoven out for the only one who had earned it.
I learned to play in the dark. I seemed to acquire the skill instantaneously. I strung together variations on already-learned harmonies and phrased them as one long sonata reminiscenza. I stayed up all night and all through the following day; I improvised contrasting themes and built them from the raw stuff of fresh war and raw men and women. I banged low chords to announce the conflicts of the man I had come to love dearly.
War. Blood libel. Twenty-three days, this storm, reminiscenza. It was for all of them and him most of all. It was a transcendental mémoire. Here we were in Los Angeles. We were at odds with one another and afire with crazed duty. We were as one and bound by a terrible allegiance in the time of Pearl Harbor.
6:17 p.m.
Dudley swore allegiance.
It was a bedside ceremony. An Army major read the oath. Joe Kennedy and Hideo Ashida stood witness. Uncle Ace supplied a room above the Pagoda. He made love to Bette Davis on this selfsame bed.
He repeated the major’s words. His voice fluttered and held. Claire pinned captain’s bars to his smock. Ace wheeled in egg rolls and mai tais.
Captain D. L. Smith, United States Army. Dudley Liam Smith—a ghost attacked you.
He survived. Ruth Mildred credited Big “O.” It prevented shock and provided baseline anesthesia. It stalled the rush of spilled blood.
The lads proposed a tong sweep. Find the boy and skin his hide. He nixed it.
“The creature wasn’t human, and I summoned him myself. I’ve been rowdy of late, and brought on retribution. The best of us err and sin, and I’m only grateful that my Creator chose to spare me.”
They thought he was nuts. They were empiricist hardheads. He was a mystic. Wolves spoke to him.
Claire stayed by his side. She’d knelt in his blood. Steadfast girl, who are you? Did I conjure you or did you conjure me?
Ace dished out snacks and drinks. The gang dished out toasts.
The major said, “Congratulations, Captain.”
Joe said, “You’re one lucky mick.”
Hideo said, “I’m honored to be here.”
Ace said, “Which makes you honorary Chinese.”
Claire laughed and plumped his pillow. Dudley kissed her hand and winked.
6:29 p.m.
Mob scene. Hollywood Boulevard at Las Palmas Avenue.
The crowd ran two thousand. The cop crew ran two hundred. Note the double barricades and loudspeakers on streetlamps.
Movie spotlights swooping. A twenty-foot-high bandstand with curb-to-curb span. Geek citizens stretched out a half mile.
Cross streets blocked off. Cars diverted and rerouted. Bottlenecks south to Melrose and north to the Hollywood Bowl.
The rally started at 7:00. Ann Sheridan and Ellen Drew. Ronald Reagan and Joan Crawford. Two half-gassed Ritz Brothers.
L.A. was a cluster fuck. Miss Sheridan was a Narco snitch. Elmer Jackson was screwing Miss Drew.
Parker paced a stretch of sidewalk. Crowd noise slammed him. Ditto a hot rumor. A tong punk sliced the Dudster at Kwan’s yesterday.
Dudley survived. He was now Army-commissioned and Mexico-bound.
The celebs were ensconced at Musso & Frank’s. A “U.S.A. Buffet” was set up. The Ritz Brothers were grab-assing Miss Sheridan and Miss Drew.
His nerves were shot to shit. He was thirteen days sober. This was all shit that he didn’t need.
He ducked into Musso’s. The crowd noise abated. The bartender saw him and held up a telephone.
He walked over. The celebs had lacquered photos pinned to their coats. The pix honored Our Boys in Service. Cluster fuck. Miss Crawford’s pic noted Scotty Bennett, USMC.
The bartender passed the phone. Parker cupped his free ear.
“Yes?”
“It’s Preston Exley, Bill. I’m calling to tell you that we’re folding our tent. That means on all of it. You convinced us that it’s not worth the trouble. For what it’s worth, you won.”
Parker said, “Thank you.”
Exley said something else. The restaurant started broiling. Parker hung up and walked outside.
He stood on the sidewalk. He felt shot-to-shit numb. That big noise washed over him.
He smoked and watched the crowd. The spotlights swept low. They illuminated odd people.
He stared at the crowd. That big noise escalated. The celebs climbed the bandstand. The spotlights lit up geeks standing close in.
He caught half a glimpse. The light swerved away. He’d caught her tall sway and red hair. The light swerved back. He caught her face. He saw the gold braid on her uniform.
He ran toward her. He jumped off the curb and made the street at a sprint. People saw Cop and stepped back. People caught a blur and stood still. He saw her, he lost her, he saw her. He thought he saw her blow smoke.
He hit the crowd. He lost her. He elbowed through the crowd. People moved away and tripped away from him. He stumbled and lost his hat. He saw her, he lost her.
He elbowed people. He pushed people back. He saw her, he lost her. He shoved people. They shoved him back. He staggered and stayed upright. He saw her close, he lost her, he saw her farther back.
He tried to turn toward her. People blocked his path. He shoved them. They shoved him. He shoved harder. They shoved harder. He saw her gold uniform braid.
He caught an elbow. He caught rabbit punches. Someone coffee-doused him. Someone stuck a foot out and tripped him. He hit the pavement and heard people laugh.
He stumbled up and tried to run. He got tripped again. He got up, he fell down, he got up. He thought he saw her. He tripped and lost her. People laughed at him and kicked him. He crouched low and ran. He knocked down a fat man and made the south curb.
His trousers were ripped. His hat was gone. He stumbled to a streetlamp and pulled himself up on a ledge. He looked above the crowd and down at the crowd and tried to catch her red hair.
He lost his grip. He slid off the pole and hit the curb. People laughed at him. Patriotic music blasted. Two thousand fools screeched.
He steadied himself and walked off the boulevard. He saw a COCKTAILS sign down Las Palmas.
He beelined. The door was propped open. The bottle row above the bar was backlit.
The barman saw him and quick-read him. He laid down a napkin. Parker pointed to the Old Crow and held two fingers up.
The barman poured him a double. He downed it. The barman refilled him. He downed it. The barman refilled him. He downed it and dropped a twenty on the bartop.
The booze quick-scorched him. He walked outside with the flush. Stray spotlights hit him. He saw a cab.
He got in the back. The cabbie went Where to? He went It’s off the Strip.
The cabbie U-tu
rned. Parker steered him around the bottlenecks and got him away from the shit. They caught a lull. They made all greens to the Strip. He pointed him up the hill.
The porch light was on. Blanchard’s car was gone. Her car was there.
He paid the cabbie and walked up. The living room was dark. The door was halfway cracked. There was just fireplace glow.
She was there. She was tucked asleep on the couch.
He stepped inside. He grabbed a stray chair and carried it over. He sat facing her. One arm was draped toward him. He saw the fresh knife nicks. Dear lord, she did it.
He pulled his chair closer. His legs bumped the couch. Her eyes fluttered. She said, “William,” and went back to sleep.
A breeze stirred the fire and lit her hair red. He smelled the prairie. He touched her face and said, “Katherine, love.”
Perfidia is the first volume of the Second L.A. Quartet. The L.A. Quartet—The Black Dahlia, The Big Nowhere, L.A. Confidential and White Jazz—covers the years 1946 to 1958 in Los Angeles. The Underworld U.S.A. Trilogy—American Tabloid, The Cold Six Thousand and Blood’s A Rover—covers 1958 to 1972, on a national scale.
The Second L.A. Quartet places real-life and fictional characters from the first two bodies of work in Los Angeles during World War II, as significantly younger people. These three series span thirty-one years and will stand as one novelistic history. The following list notes the previous appearances of characters in Perfidia.
BRENDA ALLEN. The real-life Allen appears in The Big Nowhere.
AKIRA ASHIDA. The brother of police chemist Hideo Ashida.
HIDEO ASHIDA. This character is referenced in The Black Dahlia.
MARIKO ASHIDA. The mother of Hideo and Akira Ashida.
OFFICER SCOTTY BENNETT, Los Angeles Police Department. Bennett appears in Blood’s A Rover.
LEONARD BERNSTEIN. The real-life pianist, conductor and composer.
EUGENE BISCAILUZ. The real-life sheriff of Los Angeles County.
OFFICER LEE BLANCHARD, Los Angeles Police Department. Blanchard appears in The Black Dahlia.
BUCKY BLEICHERT. This character appears in The Black Dahlia.
FLETCHER BOWRON. The real-life mayor of Los Angeles.
SERGEANT MIKE BREUNING, Los Angeles Police Department. Breuning appears in The Big Nowhere, L.A. Confidential and White Jazz.
LIEUTENANT THAD BROWN, Los Angeles Police Department. A noted real-life policeman.
ARCHBISHOP J. J. CANTWELL. The real-life head of the L.A. Archdiocese.
SERGEANT DICK CARLISLE, Los Angeles Police Department. Carlisle appears in The Big Nowhere, L.A. Confidential and White Jazz.
“TOJO TOM” CHASCO. A Japanese-Mexican criminal and Fifth Columnist.
DR. LIN CHUNG. A plastic surgeon and proponent of eugenics.
MICKEY COHEN. The real-life Cohen appears in The Big Nowhere, L.A. Confidential and White Jazz.
HARRY COHN. The real-life boss of Columbia Pictures.
LIEUTENANT JOAN CONVILLE, USNR. A Navy nurse adrift in Los Angeles.
JOAN CRAWFORD. The real-life film actress.
HUEY CRESSMEYER. This character appears in American Tabloid.
DR. RUTH MILDRED CRESSMEYER. Dr. Cressmeyer appears in American Tabloid.
BETTE DAVIS. The real-life film actress.
JAMES EDGAR “TWO-GUN” DAVIS. The real-life former chief of the Los Angeles Police Department.
CLAIRE DE HAVEN. Miss De Haven appears in The Big Nowhere.
ELLEN DREW. A real-life “B” movie actress.
PRESTON EXLEY. This character appears in L.A. Confidential.
ARTHUR FARNSWORTH. The real-life second husband of Bette Davis.
TOMMY GILFOYLE. This character appears in The Black Dahlia.
MRS. NAO HAMANO. A real-life Japanese housewife.
MONSIGNOR JOE HAYES. A Catholic priest and the confessor of Captain William H. Parker.
THE HEARST RIFLE TEAM. Real-life sharpshooters employed by tycoon William Randolph Hearst.
DR. FRED HILTZ. This character appears in Blood’s A Rover.
WALLACE HODAKA. A suspected Japanese Fifth Columnist.
RICHARD HOOD, FBI. The real-life head man at the FBI’s Los Angeles Office.
J. EDGAR HOOVER, FBI. The real-life Hoover appears in American Tabloid, The Cold Six Thousand and Blood’s A Rover.
BOB HOPE. The real-life film and radio comedian.
CLEMENCE B. “CALL-ME-JACK” HORRALL. The real-life chief of the Los Angeles Police Department.
SID HUDGENS. This character appears in L.A. Confidential.
LAURA HUGHES. The illegitimate daughter of Joseph P. Kennedy, Sr., and Gloria Swanson.
LIEUTENANT CARL HULL, Los Angeles Police Department. Friend and ideological consort of Captain William H. Parker.
SERGEANT ELMER JACKSON, Los Angeles Police Department. A notorious real-life policeman.
ENSIGN JACK KENNEDY. The real-life Kennedy appears in American Tabloid.
JOSEPH P. KENNEDY. The real-life Kennedy père appears in American Tabloid.
SERGEANT BILL KOENIG, Los Angeles Police Department. Koenig appears in The Black Dahlia.
ROSE EILEEN KWAN. The niece of Uncle Ace Kwan.
UNCLE ACE KWAN. This character appears in L.A. Confidential.
FIORELLO LA GUARDIA. The real-life mayor of New York City and director of the U.S. Office of War Preparedness.
KAY LAKE. Miss Lake appears in The Black Dahlia.
JIM LARKIN. A real-life British spy, retired in Los Angeles.
DR. NORT LAYMAN. Dr. Layman appears in The Big Nowhere and L.A. Confidential.
ANDREA LESNICK. Miss Lesnick appears in The Big Nowhere.
DR. SAUL LESNICK. Dr. Lesnick appears in The Big Nowhere.
WARD LITTELL, FBI. Littell appears in American Tabloid and The Cold Six Thousand.
ELLIS LOEW. This character appears in The Black Dahlia, The Big Nowhere and L.A. Confidential.
REYNOLDS LOFTIS. This character appears in The Big Nowhere.
DR. TERRY LUX. Dr. Lux appears in The Big Nowhere.
CAPTAIN CARLOS MADRANO, Mexican State Police. A Nazi sympathizer and alleged Fifth Columnist.
DISTRICT ATTORNEY BILL McPHERSON. This character appears in L.A. Confidential.
SERGEANT TURNER “BUZZ” MEEKS, Los Angeles Police Department. Meeks appears in The Big Nowhere and L.A. Confidential.
CHAZ MINEAR. This character appears in The Big Nowhere.
“JIMMY THE JAP” NAMURA. A Japanese Fifth Columnist.
ROBERT NOBLE. A real-life Nazi sympathizer.
CAPTAIN WILLIAM H. PARKER, Los Angeles Police Department. The real-life Parker appears in L.A. Confidential and White Jazz.
PIERCE PATCHETT. This character appears in L.A. Confidential.
JEROME JOSEPH PAVLIK. A rapist at large in Los Angeles.
RAY PINKER, Los Angeles Police Department. The real-life Pinker appears in L.A. Confidential and White Jazz.
SERGEI RACHMANINOFF. The real-life pianist and composer.
PAUL ROBESON. The real-life actor, singer and political lightning rod.
ELEANOR ROOSEVELT. The real-life First Lady.
HOOKY ROTHMAN. A real-life minor hoodlum.
DOT ROTHSTEIN. Miss Rothstein appears in L.A. Confidential.
SAM RUMMEL. A real-life criminal lawyer.
ED SATTERLEE, FBI. Satterlee appears in The Big Nowhere.
GORO SHIGETA. A Japanese businessman and murder victim.
ELIZABETH SHORT. Miss Short appears in The Black Dahlia.
FUJIO “BAMBOO” SHUDO. A Japanese psychopath.
BENJAMIN “BUGSY” SIEGEL. The real-life Siegel appears in The Big Nowhere and L.A. Confidential.
SERGEANT DUDLEY SMITH, Los Angeles Police Department. Smith appears in The Big Nowhere, L.A. Confidential and White Jazz.
GERALD L. K. SMITH. The real-life native fascist.
GLORIA SWANSON. The real-life film actress.
SERGEANT FRITZ VOGEL, Los Angeles Police Department.
Vogel appears in The Black Dahlia.
DEPUTY DOUGLAS WALDNER, Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Office. A Klanned-up local cop.
AYA WATANABE. The matriarch of a traitorous Japanese family.
JOHNNY WATANABE. The son of Aya and Ryoshi Watanabe.
NANCY WATANABE. The daughter of Aya and Ryoshi Watanabe.
RYOSHI WATANABE. The patriarch of a traitorous Japanese family.
A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR
James Ellroy was born in Los Angeles in 1948. He is the author of the L.A. Quartet—The Black Dahlia, The Big Nowhere, L.A. Confidential and White Jazz—and the Underworld U.S.A. Trilogy—American Tabloid, The Cold Six Thousand and Blood’s A Rover. These seven novels have won numerous honors and were international best sellers.
Perfidia is the first novel of the Second L.A. Quartet, Ellroy’s fictional history of Los Angeles during World War II. The design of this extended work is unprecedented. Ellroy will take characters from the original quartet and trilogy, set between 1946 and 1972, and detail their lives as significantly younger people.
Ellroy currently lives in Los Angeles.