The Cold Six Thousand - James Ellroy [253]
Fred had King’s travel plans. Dwight Holly pouched them. They came from an FBI source.
King went to Selma. He arrived on 3/22. Fred O. and Jim Ray were there. The conditions were sub-par. Fred O. stalled D-day.
King stayed in Selma. Jimmy drove to Atlanta. He knew King lived there. King foxed him. King flew to Jew York. King had business there.
Dwight got a tip. His Fed source pouched it. RED RABBIT to Memphis. Arrival 3/28. There’s a garbage strike there.
Dwight recruited Wayne on 3/30. “Raul” goosed Jimmy Ray. Cash perks and meth—Memphis dead-ahead.
It was NOW. Fred said so. Fred knew it. Jimmy was strung out. Jimmy craved the “Bounty.” Jimmy craved this mock Holy Grail.
Wayne watched the balcony. Wayne saw activity.
Dwight ran death-threat checks. The Memphis Feds supplied facts. King logged eighty-one death threats. Klan threats mostly.
King blew them off. King shined them on. King scorned security.
Wayne watched the balcony. Wayne saw Dr. King. They went back. They intertwined. They had symmetry.
He went to Little Rock. He enforced integration. He saw King there. He saw that fuck film. It was FBI-shot. He saw King there. He killed three coloreds. King indicted Las Vegas. King almost went there. He killed Bongo in Saigon. King hated his war. He killed Wendell Durfee. Wayne Senior found Durfee. King served his vengeance cause.
Wayne Senior knew:
You want it. I made you. It’s yours.
He killed Durfee. Dwight suborned him. He joined Wayne Senior’s cause. It’s Wayne Senior’s Hate School. It’s the postgrad course. Coloreds foist chaos. Coloreds breed discord. Coloreds spawn doss.
Wayne Senior said you learned. Wayne Senior said you paid. Wayne Senior said you earned this shot.
Wayne Senior bragged:
Ward Littell’s retiring. Mormon heavies love me. I’ll get his Hughes spot. It’s certain. I know. I was told.
Carlos Marcello called me. We talked. We discussed Littell’s retirement. We discussed general business. We discussed the Hughes spot.
Carlos said this:
Littell worked for Hughes and me. You take that full spot. Littell suborns Nixon. Littell retires then. You go from there. You work with Nixon. You secure our requests. You insure our warranty.
Wayne Senior said this:
My son the chemist. You know him. I know he’s outgrown Pete B.
Carlos said this:
We’ll find a spot. We’ll bring Wayne in. It’s adios to Pete B.
Wayne watched the balcony. Wayne saw King laugh. Wayne saw King slap his knees.
I hate smart. I’ve killed five. You can’t outhate me.
111
(Bay St. Louis, 4/3/68)
Castoff—9:16 p.m. Light wind. Course south-southeast.
The last gun run. The kadre kurtain kall.
Pete walked the deck. His pants fit tight. He wore three guns in. He wore his shirt out. His gut bulged. The silencers chafed.
He flew in. They held castoff. He flew in late. He looked for Wayne in Vegas. He tapped out. Carlos called him.
Carlos was Carlos. Fuck the Big Lie. Carlos was brusque:
“You found some things out. So what? You were never dumb, Pete.”
“Bob’s off somewhere. He’s working with Wayne. He don’t get hurt like the rest.”
“Don’t act aggrieved. Bring me some scalps. Remember, you owe me for Dallas.”
The boat pitched. The boat dipped. The boat leveled. Pete walked the deck. Pete thought it through. Pete fought butterflies.
They’re below deck. Get them alone/get them together. Hit the arms locker. Get a shotgun. Choke a tight spread.
Pilot the boat. You know how to. Head for Cuban seas. Lure Fuentes on. Lure Arredondo. Kill them/scalp them/dump them. Scalp and dump the rest.
Six snuffs. Butch haircuts. Scalped per kadre kode breach.
The boat ran smooth. Automatic pilot. Glassy Gulf seas.
Pete climbed the bridge. Pete read dials. Pete ran instrument checks. It’s OK. You know how. You’ll do it.
He walked below. He got flutters—biiiiiig butterflies. The main cabin stood full: Stanton/Guéry/Elorde/Dick Wenzel.
Pete jittered. Pete twitched. Pete bumped his head on a beam.
Stanton said, “They don