Straight Life - Art Pepper [78]
They told me if I came up with a dealer they'd turn me loose. I guess they figured a musician is weak. It was a musician that set me up; I guess the feds figured, "Well, here's another musician." I must be weak, too. And maybe I would know somebody that was dealing. I had a lot of connections in East L.A. I could have turned over. They said, "Here, we'll give you the gram, the car, cut all of you loose, and all you have to do is take a ride and point out somebody." I have to admit that the thought of being free and being able to shoot the gram was very tempting, but I couldn't do it. When I first started using, this friend, Henry Garcia-we used to cop together-told me, "Do you know what you're doing? If you do this you may get busted and you may have to go to jail. If you're not willing to go, just don't do it." I'd said, "No, I realize and I'll be able to go when the time comes." And I thought, "Well, here's the test." So that was it. I knew I couldn't inform on anyone because I would never have been able to relax. There's one thing you have if you don't inform: you don't feel bad about yourself. No matter how bad things get, you have that. It's something that a lot of people don't understand, but anybody who's been in that position realizes what it is and knows what I'm talking about. So they kept after me, and I told them no.
I told Susan, "File a theft report. Say I stole your car and get it back. They can't hold it and I'm not going to turn over on anybody to save it." The feds walked us across the street to the L.A. County jail, where they house you even if you're a federal prisoner. Just before we went upstairs one fed said, "Well, this is your last chance. You don't have to go up there. Take a ride, make a buy, and that's it. We'll cut you loose and you can go to your pad and get loaded." I was deathly sick. I told them no. I said, "Are you going to keep your promise about cutting Joe and Susan loose?" The fed motioned to this other fed and he told them, "Okay, you're free. Say goodbye." Joe shook my hand. Susan said, "Oh, Arthur, I love you!" She said, "Is there anything I can do?" I said, "No, take care of yourself." She asked the detective, "Can I kiss him goodbye?" She grabbed me and kissed me and held on to me. She was just, like, a little girl, you know, that had cared for me. I had never cared for her but she was so sweet and I felt so sad. I watched them walk off.
The feds pushed the elevator button and we got in. They pushed the jail floor; I think it was nine. The elevator opens and they walk me to the gate and they say, "One for booking, federal narcotics." One of the feds says, "You got any money for cigarettes?" I said no. He reached into his pocket and gave me a five-dollar bill. I almost fell over. Then the guy put out his hand and said, "Come on, man, this is our job. This is what we have to do. I hate a fuckin' informer and I just want to shake your hand, not being a rat." I shook his hand, and the other guy patted me on the shoulder and he said, "Good luck."
8
The Los Angeles
County Jail
1953
WHEN YOU'RE BOOKED into the Los Angeles County Jail they put you in a cage with a wire gate, and you have to wait while they type up a whole bunch of stuff. You lie there and sit there, and then, when enough people are ready, the guards call out the names and you walk to another section, where they take your fingerprints. They do each finger and your whole hand, and they take your picture. Then you wait again, and there's no place to sit. You lie on the cement floor, and people get sick-they're vomiting. I was sick before I got busted; I was sick before I went and hocked