The Cold Six Thousand - James Ellroy [71]
Wayne coughed. His breath fogged out.
Fritsch said, “You got a cold? You were sure out in the rain that night.”
Holly said, “He was out killing three unarmed men.”
Fritsch said, “Come on. He admitted it.”
The Sheriff’s man coughed. “I’ve got a fucking cold. He wasn’t the only one out in the rain.”
Gilstrap smiled. “We’ve cleared up one part of your story. We know you didn’t kill Lynette.”
Wayne coughed. “Tell me how you know.”
“Son, you don’t want to know.”
Holly said, “Tell him. I want to see how he reacts.”
Fritsch said, “The coroner found abrasions and semen. The guy was a secretor. AB-negative blood, which is real rare. We checked Durfee’s jail records. That’s his blood type.”
Holly smiled. “Look, he didn’t even blink.”
Brown said, “He’s a cold one.”
The Sheriff’s man said, “He wasn’t even crying when we found him. He was just staring at the body.”
Gilstrap said, “Come on. He was in shock.”
Fritsch said, “We’re satisfied that Durfee killed her.”
The Sheriff’s man lit a cigar. “And we’re satisfied that Curtis and Otis clued you in to his plan.”
Holly straddled a chair. “Someone hipped you to Leroy Williams and the Swasey brothers.”
Wayne coughed. “I told you. I have an informant.”
“Whose name you refuse to reveal.”
“Yes.”
“And your intent was to find and apprehend Wendell Durfee.”
“Yes.”
Brown said, “You wanted to apprehend him, to make up for not doing it in Big D.”
“Yes.”
“Then, son, here’s what bothers me. How did Durfee know that you were the officer sent down to Dallas to extradite him?”
Wayne coughed. “I told you before. I rousted him a few times when I worked Patrol. He knew my face and my name, and he saw me when we exchanged shots in Dallas.”
Fritsch said, “I’ll buy that.”
Gilstrap said, “I will, too.”
Brown said, “I won’t. I think something happened between you and Durfee. Maybe in Dallas, maybe up here before they sent you down. I don’t see him coming all the way up here, presumably to kill you and get his incidental jollies on your wife, unless he had a personal motive.”
Tex was good. Tex was better than the Sheriff’s man. Pete chased the dice men. The cops chased him. They popped Pete. They filed paper. The Sheriff’s man knew shit-all about it.
Brown said, “Your business up here is your business. I wouldn’t care about any of this, except for the proximity of a missing Dallas officer named Maynard D. Moore, who you reportedly did not get along with.”
Wayne shrugged. “Moore was dirty. If you knew him, you know that’s true. I didn’t like him, but I only had to work with him for a few days.”
“You said ‘knew.’ You think he’s dead, then?”
“That’s right. Durfee or one of his asshole Klan buddies killed him.”
Gilstrap said, “We’ve got two APBs out on Durfee. He won’t get far.”
Brown hovered. “You’re saying Officer Moore was in the Ku Klux Klan?”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t like the sound of that accusation. You’re defaming the memory of a brother officer.”
The Sheriff’s man laughed. “This is hilarious. He kills three Negroes and gets on his high horse about the KKK.”
Brown coughed. “DPD has been anti-Klan from the get-go.”
“Bullshit. You all get your sheets cleaned at the same laundry.”
“Boy, you are wearing me thin.”
“Don’t call me ‘boy,’ you redneck faggot.”
Brown kicked a chair. Fritsch picked it up.
Gilstrap said, “Come on. This line of talk is getting us nowhere.”
Holly rocked his chair. “Leroy Williams and the Swasey brothers were moving heroin.”
Wayne said, “I know that.”
“How?”
“I saw Curtis rolling bindles.”
“I’ve had them under spot surveillance. They were pushing in Henderson and Boulder City, and they were making plans to push in West Vegas.”
Wayne coughed. “They wouldn’t have lasted two days. The Outfit would have clipped them.”
Fritsch rolled his eyes. “He goes from the Klan to the Mob.”
Gilstrap rolled his eyes. “You’ve got the Mob in Vegas like you’ve got the Klan in Dallas.”
Wayne rolled his eyes. “Hey, Buddy, who bought you your speedboat? Hey, Bob, who got you that second mortgage?”
Fritsch