The Cold Six Thousand - James Ellroy [213]
“I could have helped you.”
Dwight laughed. “Yeah, you wrote the book.”
“Not completely. You know I’d rather scheme against liberals than be one.”
Dwight shook his head. “You are one. It’s this fucked-up Catholic thing you’ve got going. You love high-level ops, you love the great unwashed, you’re like the fucking Pope ashamed that his church makes money.”
Littell roared—Blue Rabbit—mon Dieu!
“You flatter me, Dwight. I’m not that complex.”
“Yeah, you are. It’s why Mr. Hoover enjoys you. You’re Bayard Rustin to his Marty King.”
Littell smiled. “Bayard has his own ambiguities.”
“Bayard’s a piece of work. I ran surveillance on him in ’60. He poured Pepsi-Cola on his Cheerios.”
Littell smiled. “He’s King’s voice of reason. King’s been pushing on too broad a front, and Bayard’s been trying to restrain him.”
Dwight shrugged. “King’s a bullet. It’s his time, and he knows it. Mr. Hoover’s getting old, and he’s letting his hatred show in the worst possible ways. King orates and pulls his Mahatma Gandhi shit, and Mr. Hoover plays in. He’s afraid that King will team up with Bobby the K., which as fears go has its merits.”
Blue Rabbit shows insight. Blue Rabbit shows balls. Blue Rabbit doubts Mr. Hoover.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Dwight tugged his necktie. “On the King front, zero. Mr. Hoover thinks you were too close to Lyle’s death and that Bogalusa bombing.”
Littell shrugged—moi?—how could he.
Dwight smirked. “You want back in. You got cut out of BLACK RABBIT, and it’s galling you.”
Littell smirked. “I’m wondering why Mr. Hoover had you pick up the list, when I could have airtelled it.”
“No, you’re not. You know he sent me to gauge your line of shit and decode your dissembling.”
Littell sighed—how passé—you know me.
“I miss the game. Tell him that for a fucked-up liberal, I’m on his side.”
Dwight winked. “I was talking to him this morning. I proposed a job for you, pending my assessment.”
“Which is?”
“That you’re a fucked-up liberal who disapproves of bugs and wiretaps, but loves to install them anyway. That you wouldn’t mind bugging sixteen Mob joints for us, just so you can stay in the game.”
Littell tingled. “Quid pro quo?”
“Sure. You plant the wires. You get out. We don’t tell you where the listening posts are. You deny Bureau complicity if you get caught, and you win points with Mr. Hoover.”
Littell said, “I’ll do it.”
The door blew open. Smells blew in: burnt pizza/spilled blood/ice cream.
DOCUMENT INSERT: 12/3/66. Verbatim FBI telephone call transcript. (OPERATION BLACK RABBIT Addendum.) Marked: “Recorded at the Director’s Request”/“Classified Confidential 1-A: Director’s Eyes Only.” Speaking: Director, BLUE RABBIT.
DIR: Good morning.
BR: Good morning, Sir.
DIR: Start with Le Grand Pierre, henceforth to be known as BIG RABBIT.
BR: He’s in, Sir. Along with Fred Otash and Freddy Turentine.
DIR: Has he recruited his bait?
BR: He has, Sir. He’ll be using a homosexual actor named Sal Mineo.
DIR: I’m delighted. Young Mineo was boffo in Exodus and The Gene Krupa Story.
BR: He’s a talented youth, Sir.
DIR: He is talented and given to Greek profligacy. He has indulged numerous liaisons with male movie stars, among them James Dean, the “Human Ashtray.”
BR: BIG RABBIT has chosen well, Sir.
DIR: To continue.
BR: BIG RABBIT has a wedge on Mineo, which he declines to reveal. He wants him protected if he’s arrested by an outside agency. I think BIG RABBIT is buying himself protection, too.
DIR: He’s buying, we’re selling. I would be delighted to protect BIG RABBIT and young Mineo.
BR: I gave BIG RABBIT a fact sheet for Mineo to memorize. We want him to be able to convince PINK RABBIT that he’s a civil-rights zealot.
DIR: That will be no great stretch. Actors are morally decentered and psychically unhinged. They cling to their scripts of the moment with great verve. It fills their voids of emptiness and allots them the will to exist.
BR: Yes, Sir.
DIR: To continue. Describe your meeting with CRUSADER RABBIT.
BR: To start, I’ll finally have to concede that he’s just