American Tabloid - James Ellroy [75]
Di Pasquale: Quack, quack. I say they’re independent guys who had it coming. I say if you’re not mobbed-up with Momo you’re duck shit. Hey, we wore masks and disguised our voices. To boot, those Indy cocksuckers don’t know we’re connected. I felt like Super Duck. I’m thinking I should get a Super Duck costume and wear it the next time I take my kids to Disneyland.
Malvaso: Quack, fucking quack, you web-footed cocksucker. You had to shoot your gun off, though. Like no fucking getaway is fucking complete without some duck-billed cocksucker shooting off his gun.
(Note: the Kenilworth Police report unexplained shots fired on the 2600 block of Westmoreland Ave., 2340 hrs., 4/16/59).
Di Pasquale: Hey, quack, quack. It worked. We’ve got it stashed nice and safe and
Malvaso: And too fucking public for my taste.
Di Pasquale: Quack, quack. Sixty days ain’t too long to wait for the split. Donald’s been waiting fucking twenty years to bang Daisy, ’cause Walt Disney won’t let him. Hey, remember last year? Jewboy Lenny did my birthday party? He did that routine where Daisy’s sucking Donald off with her beak, what a fucking roar.
Malvaso: Quack, quack, you cocksucker.
(Note: construction noise obscured the rest of this conversation. Door slam sounds at 2310 hrs.)
Littell checked the THP ID file. Malvaso and Di Pasquale lived in Evanston.
He played the 4/18/59 tape and compared it to the typed transcript. Russ Davis forgot to include departing shtick.
The Duck hummed “Chattanooga Choo Choo.”
Malvaso sang, “I got the key to your heart.”
“Too public,” “key” and “choo choo.” Two suburban-situated robbers waiting sixty days for their split.
There were forty-odd suburban train stations linked to Chicago.
With forty-odd waiting rooms lined with storage lockers.
The lockers were rented by the month. For cash only, with no records kept, with no-name receipts issued.
Two robbers. Two separate key locks per locker door.
The locks were changed every ninety days—per Illinois TA law.
Thousands of lockers. Unmarked keys. Sixty days until the split—with thirty-three already elapsed.
The lockers were steel-plated. The waiting rooms were guarded 24 hours.
Littell spent two full days thinking it through. It came down to this:
He could tail them. But when they picked up the money, he’d be helpless.
He could only tail them one at a time. It came down to this: preexisting bad odds doubled against him.
He decided to try anyway. He decided to pad his Red Squad reports and tail the men on alternate days for one week.
Day one: He tails Rocco Malvaso from 8:00 a.m. to midnight. Rocco drives to his numbers dens, his union shops and his girlfriend’s place in Glencoe.
Rocco goes nowhere near a train station.
Day two: He tails Dewey the Duck from 8:00 a.m. to midnight. Dewey drives to numerous prostitution collections.
Dewey goes nowhere near a train station.
Day three: He tails Rocco Malvaso from 8:00 a.m. to midnight. Rocco drives to Milwaukee and pistol-whips recalcitrant pimps.
Rocco goes nowhere near a train station.
Day four: He tails Dewey the Duck from 8:00 a.m. to midnight. Dewey entertains at Dewey Junior’s outdoor birthday party, dressed up as Donald Duck.
Dewey goes nowhere near a train station.
Day five: He tails Rocco Malvaso from 8:00 a.m. to midnight. Rocco spends said time with a call girl at the Blackhawk Hotel in Chicago.
Rocco goes nowhere near a train station.
Day six, 8:00 a.m.: He picks up his tail on Dewey the Duck. 9:40 a.m.: Dewey’s car won’t start. Mrs. Duck drives Dewey to the Evanston train station.
Dewey loiters in the waiting room.
Dewey eyes the lockers.
Locker #19 is affixed with a Donald Duck decal.
Littell almost swoons.
Nights six, seven and eight: He stakes out the station. He learns that the watchman leaves for his coffee break at 3:10 a.m.
The man walks down the street to an all-night diner. The waiting room is left unguarded for at least eighteen minutes.
Night nine: He hits the station. He’s armed with a