Neon Nights: Daymond Runyon meets James Ellroy in the Nevada Desert
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Mike pulled up in front of the Sheriff's office and said, "Let me book Jake and let's go out do a little celebrating tonight what do you say?"
I met Mike at the Northern Club at eight and he celebrated his case and I celebrated mine. Both turned out differently but both accomplished the same thing--the guilty party got what their just desserts.
Rita took my advice. Right after I left, she took Jake's Lincoln, and hooked it to her trailer. She left so fast she ripped out the sewer pipe and it showered sparks behind her until it broke-off. Then she disappeared into the desert.
Letting her go was one of those things that's not written up in police manuals. The book says right or wrong every suspect must be arrested and the District Attorney or the courts must decide on guilt or innocence. But sometimes you have to do what's right even if it's wrong, and I don't regret administering a little desert justice in Rita's case.
I still had a bunch of trouble hanging over me. It was only a couple of days till the Grand Jury convened and I was nervous. I had talked to Billie’s lawyer, Virgil Kane, and he gave me some tips about how to answer the questions but as he pointed out, there was no way to know exactly what I’d be asked, and I didn’t know if Ted Kemper had any more evidence than I knew about. There shouldn’t be any since I didn’t do anything but I didn’t think there was any evidence in the first place. Also, I had no idea what if anything Vinnie had done. I was relieved that there hadn’t been any homicides I knew of recently but I wasn’t exactly in the know, and mob guys at times could just disappear without any police reports. I’d done everything I could do but had I done enough? I guess I’d find out in a couple of days.
Chapter Fifteen
Payday
The day before my Grand Jury appearance I got a brief phone call from Dick Person telling me to report back to work. When I asked why, all he said was the charges had been dropped. Dick didn’t want to talk about it, but I found out that Ted Kemper's charges had been dropped because his star witness Vinnie Costello’s driver, Leonardo Lucci, refused to testify. Kemper tried to keep the investigation going by saying that Leonardo was refusing to testify because he was almost ran over in front of the Flamingo. Apparently the car just missed him by a fraction of an inch but he didn’t get hurt. My worries about Vinnie killing his snitch were at partly justified but for the moment Leonardo was still alive. Vinnie had sent him a message and he received loud and clear. Talk and the next time it would be fatal.
Leo, however, swore the incident had nothing to do with his refusing to testify. He said that Ted Kemper asked him some questions and, owning to the fact he didn’t speak English very well, he misunderstood what he was being asked. He also said Kemper was threatening to deport his brother. But he realized after he understood the questions, that he hadn’t seen anything and saying he did wasn’t the right thing to do and his only motivation in life was his deep desire to do the right thing even if it resulted in his brother being deported. Without Leonardo’s testimony all Kemper had was a grainy film of a couple people eating lunch. His case fell apart like a cheap suit.
The coincidence of me being at the Sheriff's Office the day Leonardo Lucci almost became road kill was admittedly a bit too convenient, but nothing could be proved. It must have galled Dick to have to admit he saw me that day and was part of my alibi. I only wished Kemper would have seen me that day just to tie a knot in his tail.
I knew that even though nothing came from the Kemper’s frame job, Dick would never believe I hadn’t taken money from Vinnie. I really didn’t care what Dick thought. He wasn’t my friend and my only regret was thinking he was.
Since I was getting the blame, something good had to come out of this, and I called Billie and told her to have her friend Mary arrange a meeting with Vinnie. I told her to have Vinnie meet me at The Aladdin Turkish Baths tonight at midnight. I figured the Feds wouldn’t be filming in the dark and I knew a way to get into the baths without being seen by coming in from another building.
I got there about eleven-thirty and the nice thing about The Aladdin Turkish Baths was all you could wear was a towel. It would be hard for anyone to record anything. Vinnie showed up right at midnight and I could see him and Alfie coming through the steam. I pointed at Alfie and said, “Why don’t you go to the baths? Vinnie and I need some steam.”
Alfie looked at Vinnie and Vinnie nodded. Once Alfie was gone, Vinnie said, “So what do you want?”
“Remember you asked me to tell you who killed Johnny?”
Vinnie sat beside me on the bench. His weight made the bench sag. He was hairy as an ape. “Yeah, that was what got you in all that trouble, but I got you out of it didn’t I?”
“Sure and you didn’t gain a thing by doing it either did you?”
“Okay, maybe a little. So what do you want to do thank me or what?”
“I want to tell you who killed Johnny.”
“So who was it?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
Vinnie got red in the face and pointed his cigar at me. “What kind of crap is this? You getting cute or something, or are you looking for a bigger payday?”
I turned up the steam and it hissed and blew huge clouds in the room. “Settle down. You don’t need to know who it was. I figure all you wanted to know was if it was some of your associates or enemies who stiffed him, and it wasn’t any of them. This had nothing to do with you and that’s all I’m going to say.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“You’re just going to have to trust me but if you feel you got to avenge Johnny, you and I are going to lock horns.”
Vinnie looked at me and broke up laughing. The rolls of fat around his mid-section jiggled and shook. “I like you kid. You say the damnest things--lock horns—that’s good.” He took a drag on his cigar and, even though we were alone, leaned over as if he wanted only me to hear. “I don’t give a damn about Johnny. Nobody who knew him liked him. He was one of those nut cases who at times can come in handy but usually he was a royal pain in the ass. If what you’re saying is true, I don’t care who it was and if they get arrested for it, I’ll give them some money for a lawyer.”
“Speaking of money don’t you owe me some?”
“I didn’t think you’d want it.”
“I don’t but I know someone who needs it.”
“Okay, whatever you want.”
“Good, tomorrow someone will ask for you and say Dick Pearson sent them. Give them a hundred in small bills in an envelope and the rest of the money in a sealed box in small used bills. After that, have one of your guys take them to the bus station and stay with them while they buy a ticket to Bakersfield. Have him wait with them until they get on the bus.”
Vinnie shrugged and said, “Sure, kid whatever you want. You want him to tuck them in too?”
“Now, it’s your time not to get cute, and tell whoever that goes to the bus not to get cute either.”
“Okay and Dick Pearson is a nice touch. That way if the feds are spying on me, they’ll think he’s the one who sent them. That’s good. You’ve got style kid. If you get tired of being a cop, look me up. I could use a guy like you.”
It was time to leave. Vinnie was sweating real heavy and all the garlic was coming out of him and making the room smell like an Italian restaurant. I left through the other building and kept to the shadows just in case. I had one more thing to do tomorrow morning.
* * *
I had no idea what Ted Kemper would do now. He had too much ego in this to let it go. He might even still try to pin something on me. I had to be very careful how I handled this. I could be jumping right back into the fire and proving Ted Kemper’s case, but even though Kemper’s charges had been dropped against me; due to his frame up, in the court of public opinion I would always remain guilty. Maybe not to everyone but to enough to make a difference, and I’d be damned if I was going to be found guilty of taking Vinnie’s money and come out with nothing but a ruined reputation. This way, my han
ds would be clean but if I was going to take the rap, something good would come out of this.
I knew at this hour Bottles would be asleep and I was extra careful no one was following me. One good thing about where Bottles lived was you could see for miles and any one following me would stick out like sore thumb. Another good thing was at this hour the chicken shit wouldn’t be quite as fragrant as it would be at mid-day.
I saw the drapes move as I pulled up. I didn’t know what to expect. If Bottles had done like to told him, Suzy would be okay but she also played a role in this. What if she was hooked real good, then what? I’d soon find out.
I knocked on the door and it opened a crack. “Gene isn’t here. He didn’t come home last night.”
“I don’t want to see him. I want to see you.”
The door opened and Suzy looked puzzled. “Me? Why do you want to see me?”
“Can I come in?”
“Oh sure,” She stepped out of the way and I stepped inside. I was amazed the place actually looked as if you might be able to live here. Suzy sensed my amazement and said, “I’ve been cleaning up some. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, you did a good job.” She looked good. She was wearing a well worn but pretty yellow Gingham dress. The color had returned to her cheeks and she had an almost wholesome look to her.
“You still haven’t said why you wanted to see me?”
“Get your stuff you’re coming with me.”
She looked shocked and backed up. “I haven’t done anything wrong. Gene said you didn’t want me gezzing anymore and I haven’t. I swear I haven’t.”
“That’s good but you need to come with me anyway. So get your stuff.” She didn’t argue and fetched an old beat-up suitcase. She carefully folded the few things she had and laid them carefully in the suitcase. She picked up a piece of paper and wrote something on it.
“I don’t want Gene to worry.”
The fact that she thought Gene would worry was almost touching. I picked up her suitcase and walked her to my car. I slipped her suitcase behind the seat and she got in. When I pulled up in front of my apartment building she said, “Why are we here? I thought we were going to the police station.”
“This is where I live.”
She looked down and said, “Oh, I see.”
“No, you don’t. You’re going to wait here until around ten and then you’re going to run an errand for me and then you’re going on a trip.”
“Where am I going?”
“To Bakersfield.”
“Bakersfield? What am I going to do in Bakersfield?”
“You’re going to go to cosmetology school.”
“I don’t have any money for that.”
“You might be surprised about that.”
I took her inside and we sat at the kitchen table and talked. I found out she came from New Mexico and left home when she was just fourteen. She didn’t say why but I figured out her parents were most likely drunks. She had just turned eighteen and the years on the road had made her tough but not so tough she still wasn’t a kid with kid dreams. She seemed to truly like Bottles and she made a point of telling me he didn’t have anything to do with what she called her little problem. I wanted to talk to her about that but figured it would only make her resistant rather then compliant. I did ask how long she had her problem and she lowered he head and said, “About two months but I haven’t done anything for almost two weeks.”
I could be setting her up to destroy herself but I could be saving her too. After it was all said and done, it was up to her what happened. Just before ten, I told her to get her stuff and we left by the back door. We walked down the alley. I hid behind a garage and waited to see if I was being tailed. No one appeared and Suzy never asked why I was hiding. She probably had done this before and didn’t need an explanation. We got to the cab stand and I took out five bucks. I gave it to her and said, “Go to the Flamingo Hotel and ask for Mr. Costello. Tell them Dick Pearson sent you. They are going to give you an envelope and a box. The envelope will have some money in it and put the box in your suitcase. Do not open the box under any circumstance. Don’t check your suitcase in at baggage and don’t open the box until you have a room in Bakersfield and are totally alone. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, but what’s in the box?”
“You’ll find out in Bakersfield.”
“But I don’t have any money to buy a ticket.”
“Use the money in the envelope to buy a ticket and get a room in Bakersfield. One of Mr. Costello’s guys will take you to the bus station and put you on the bus. If he or anyone else gives you any problems, you call me.” I handed her my business card and I wrote my home number on the back. I also handed her a slip of paper. “When you get to Bakersfield, call that number. The lady who runs the school is a friend of a friend of mine and she’s expecting you to call. She’ll help you find a place to live and get you settled but don’t let her or anyone else see inside that box—you got that?”
“Sure, okay—ah, why are you doing this and who is Dick Pearson?”
Why I was doing this was a good question and I really didn’t have a good answer other than. “It’s complicated but I want you to have chance. Now, get out of here before I change my mind, and Dick is just a little joke between me and Mr. Costello.” I watched the cab pull away and Suzy kept looking at me out the back window with a confused look on her face. I could understand that. I was confused as well. I really didn’t know why I was doing this other than I’d seen too many good kids get sucked into bad circumstances and usually there was nothing that I could do to change what was going to happen but maybe not this time.
I hung around my apartment until noon. No one knocked on my door and by now Suzy was heading toward Bakersfield. Unless Ted Kemper wanted to spend money tailing a young girl, I’d beat the S.O.B. and I felt good about it.
Technically my suspension was still in effect until I heard from Sherriff Duncan. I decided to take the rest day off and do nothing. I didn’t expect to hear from Suzy until tonight or tomorrow so there was no reason to hang around my apartment. I thought about driving out to see Billie but seeing her wasn’t really all that good for me. I owed her and owed her big and someday I hoped I could pay her back but that day wasn’t today. Instead I drove out into the desert and parked beneath one of the few shade trees I could find. I’d been running on nervous energy and it all hit me at once what had just happened. I came real close to going to jail and I’d gotten lucky—real lucky. I’d heard it hundreds of times--someone claiming they were innocent and I never believed them but now I knew sometimes it was true. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a cop anymore but that decision may not be mine. I’m sure Sherriff Duncan had his opinion on my guilt and that certainly would play a role in what I decided to do.
I was burning angry at Dick. His insane hatred of Vinnie Costello created all of this. Because of his craziness he never even asked for my side of the story. I thought we were friends but it’s hard to be friends with crazy people and ultimately crazy people make you do crazy things. The best thing for me was to stay away from him, because if I got the chance, I’d hurt him and hurt him bad. I’d also like to get Ted Kemper into the ring or a dark alley with me and rearrange his college-boy face. I knew that would never happen but I can dream. And dream I did. I woke up about an hour later and felt like it was the first real sleep I’d had in days. I drove back into town and got a greasy hamburger for a late lunch or early supper. I stretched out on my bed and went sound to sleep. The telephone woke me up. I glanced outside—to my amazement it was dark.
Suzy didn’t wait for me to say hello, “Where did all this money come from?”
“I did a favor for someone.”
“It must have been a big favor this is all the money in the world.”
“It’s not quite that much.”
“Are you sure this is mine? Don’t you want some of it?”
“It’s all yours but be careful with it. It’s enough to destroy yo
u or help you live a good life. What you do with it is up to you.” I told her to put it in a safe deposit box and only take out what she needed and to never ever talk about it or show it to anyone. She started to cry and I never was good with crying women.
She managed to say through the tears, “I don’t know what to say. No one has ever done anything like this for me. Thank you and I’ll make you proud.”
“A thank you is enough and I’m sure you will make me proud.” I told her the woman running the school once had a little problem like she had but the woman didn’t know anything about Suzy and only bring the subject up if she needed to. Suzy kept thanking me and crying and I told her to get a good night sleep and to do good in school and hung up.
If Kemper had my phone bugged, he heard enough to make the next day interesting but I didn’t care. I never said I got the money from Vinnie and Suzy never said how much it was. It could have been a few hundred bucks for all he knew. He’d pound sand trying to prove anything different.
The next morning the Sherriff Duncan called and officially lifted my suspension. He told me to come and see him at nine-thirty. When I walked into the station, no one said anything good or bad except for Jimmy Johnson and Wally Parks who both gave me a big hello. The Sherriff handed me my gun and badge and welcomed me back even if it was in a luke warm way. He suggested that I might want to go on the night shift to avoid problems. I knew he was talking about Dick Pearson and that was fine with me. The last thing I need was to wipe the floor up with Dick even if every fiber in me wanted to. Most of what I’d do on the night shift was deal with drunks or hookers who lifted some John’s wallet, but that was okay with me—I’d had enough excitement recently.
Try as I might, I couldn’t avoid all contact with Dick. We talked and spent as little time together as possible. A couple weeks later, Sherriff Duncan told me I was being sent back to the Highway Patrol. He claimed the Attorney General ran out of money to pay me, and I was to report back to the Highway Patrol’s office in Carson City by next Monday. Maybe what he said was true, and sooner or later I’d have to go back anyway. It just turned out—to be sooner and that was okay. My concerns about what if anything, Vinnie or Al would expect for their help would evaporate as soon as I returned to the State Patrol. About the only thing I would be of any use to them for--would be to fix a traffic ticket. I never saw Ted Kemper again but I knew creeps like him don’t forget but I got news for him neither would I.