“
That
’
s
what those colors are for, man?
”
Denis said.
Suddenly, like a UFO rising over the ridgeline, the flashing lights of a police car appeared uphill and came swooping down on them, the siren screaming.
“
Like, shit,
”
Denis heading for the hatch in the roof
again,
“
I
’
m outta here, man,
”
overlooking for the moment the streetscape
rushing past. Feeling no sign of deceleration, Doc, trying not to think about the paper bag under the seat, kept reaching with his foot for the
brake pedal, meantime trying gently to steer the car over to the shoulder.
If he
’
d been in his own ride and by himself, he might have chosen to make a run for it, at least open a door an inch or two and get rid of the bag, but by the time he could bring himself to try even that, the Man was on top of them.
“
License and registration, miss?
”
The cop seemed to be focused on Japonica
’
s tits. She smiled back at him in high-intensity silence, occasionally glancing at the Smith & Wesson on his hip. His partner, a
rookie even blonder than he was, came and leaned on the passenger side,
content for the moment to watch Denis, who had paused in his effort to climb through the roof to gaze at the strobing array of colored lights on top of the cruiser, and now and then go,
“
Oh wow, man.
”
“
Are you the Great Beast?
”
inquired rattling-mad Japonica in her sub-jailbait lilt.
“
No no no,
”
Blatnoyd droning desperately,
“
that
’
s a policeman,
Japonica, who only wants to make sure you
’
re all right
...
”
“
Just the license and registration if you wouldn
’
t mind,
”
said the cop.
“
You know you were driving without your headlights, miss.
”
“
But I can see in the dark,
”
Japonica nodding emphatically,
“
I can see
real good\
n
“
Her sister went into labor about an hour ago,
”
Blatnoyd imagining he was charming their way out of a ticket,
“
and Miss Fenway promised she
’
d be there in time to see the baby born, so she might
’
ve been a little inattentive back there?
”
“
That case,
”
said the cop,
“
maybe somebody else ought to be driving.
”
Japonica promptly jumped in the back seat with Blatnoyd, while Doc
slid over behind the wheel and Denis moved up front to ride shotgun. The cops looked on beaming, like instructors at an etiquette class.
“
Oh and we
’
ll need everybody
’
s ID, too,
”
the rookie announced.
“
Sure thing,
”
Doc bringing out his PI license.
“
What
’
s it about,
Officer?
”
“
New program,
”
shrugged the other cop,
“
you know how it is, another
excuse for paperwork, they
’
re calling it Cultwatch, every gathering of
three or more civilians is now defined as a potential cult.
”
The rookie
was making checkmarks on a list attached to a clipboard.
“
Criteria,
”
the other cop continued,
“
include references to the book of Revelation, males
with shoulder-length or longer hair, endangerment through automotive absentmindedness, all of which you folks have been exhibiting.
”
“
Yeah man,
”
Denis put in,
“
but we
’
re in a Mercedes, and it
’
s only
painted one color, beige—don
’
t we get points for that?
”
Doc noticed for the first time that both cops were.
..
well, not
trembling, the police wouldn
’
t tremble, but
vibrating
for sure, with the
post-Mansonical nerves that currently ruled the area.
“
We
’
ll hand this all in, Mr. Sportello, it
’
ll go in some master data
bank here and in Sacramento, and unless there
’
s wants or warrants we
don
’
t know about, you won
’
t hear any more on this.
”
following dr. blatnoyd
’
s
directions, Doc turned off Sunset, brak
ing almost immediately for a guard gate staffed by private heat of some
kind.
“
Evening, Heinrich,
”
boomed Rudy Blatnoyd.
“
Nice to see you, Dr. B.,
”
replied the sentry, waving him through.
They went winding through Bel Air, up hillsides and canyons, arriv
ing at a mansion with another gate, low and nearly invisible inside
it’s
landscape gardening, seeming so much constructed of night itself that
at sunrise it might all disappear. Behind the gate glimmered a pale slash
through the dark, which Doc finally figured out was a moat, with a
drawbridge over it.
“
Won
’
t be a minute,
”
Dr. Blatnoyd climbing out, grabbing the bag from under the front seat and getting into a cryptic discussion over the
gate intercom with a voice Doc guessed to be female, before the gate
opened and the drawbridge came down, rumbling and creaking. Then the night was very quiet again—not even the distant freeway traffic
could be heard, or the footpads of coyotes, or the slither of snakes
...
“
Way too quiet,
”
said Denis,
“
it
’
s freaking me out, man.
”
“
I think we
’
ll wait here on this side of the moat,
”
Doc said.
“
Okay?
”
Denis rolled an enormous joint and lit up, and soon the interior of the Mercedes was full of smoke. After a while there was shrieking on the
gate intercom.
“
Hey man,
”
said Denis,
“
you don
’
t have to yell, man.
”
“
Dr. Blatnoyd wishes us to inform you,
”
announced the woman at the other end,
“
that he will be remaining as our guest, and there is thus no further need for you to wait.
”
“
Yeah, and you talk like a robot, man.
”
It took them a while to find their way back to Sunset.
“
I guess I
’
ll
crash with some friends in Pacific Palisades,
”
Japonica announced.
“
Mind letting us off at the Greyhound in Santa Monica? We can grab
the midnight local.
”
“
By the way, aren
’
t you the man who found me and brought me back
to my dad that time?
”
“
Just doing my job,
”
Doc immediately defensive.
“
Did he really want me back?
”
“
I
’
ve worked gigs like that a couple of times since,
”
Doc said carefully,
in case she had to drive much more tonight,
“
and he seemed like your standard worried parent.
”
“
He
’
s an asshole,
”
Japonica assured him.
“
Here, this is my office number. I don
’
t have regular hours, so you may not always find me in.
”
She shrugged and managed a smile.
“
If it
’
s meant to be.
”
things were weird
for a few days with the Dart over in Beverly Hills, though Doc imagined it was having itself a nice time in the company of all those Jaguars and Porsches and so forth. When he finally went over to pick up his ride, at Resurrection of the Body, a collision
emporium somewhat south of Olympic, he ran into his friend Tito Stavrou having a lively argument with Manuel the owner. Tito ran a limo service, though there was only one unit in his fleet, unfortunately not one of those limos able to Glide from the Curb, much less Insert Itself
Effortlessly into Traffic—no, this one
lurched
from the curb
percussively
into traffic, being in fact garaged for at least half of any given premium period (as Tito
’s
latest insurance carrier had just discovered, much to
it’s
own, and you can imagine how much to Tito
’
s, dismay) or being
attended to by various sand-and-fill crews around the Greater L.A. Area.
One calendar year it got repainted six times.
“
You sure you mean limo and not
lim
ó
n
?
”
suggested Manuel, as part of the recreational abuse he liked to lay on Tito whenever the vehicle showed up with a new set of dings. They stood out in the main shed, assembled from a Quonset hut first cut in half lengthwise and the two pieces then rearranged so that they met in a point high overhead to make a sort of churchlike vault.
“
It would be cheaper if you just pay me in front, small fee, anytime you want it painted, just bring it by, day or night, any color in stock includin the metallics, in and out in a couple hours.
”
“
What worries me,
”
said Tito,
“
is that
‘
in and out,
’
you know, all these high-risk elements of the auto-parts community you deal with?
”
“
This is Resurrection,
é
se
!
Were in the miracle business! If Jesus
turned water into wine in front of your face? would you be goin,
‘
What
’
s
this I
’
m drinkin, I wannit Dom Perignon,
’
or some shit? If I was that
picky about what comes in here for a paint job? ask for what? their license
and registration? Then they
’
re
really
pissed off, they go someplace else,
plus I get put on a shit list I might not want to be on?
”
Manuel noticed Doc for the first time.
“
You the Bentley?
”
“
The
’
64 Dodge Dart?
”
Manuel looked back and forth between Doc and Tito for a while.
“
You guys know each other?
”
“
That would really depend,
”
Doc was about to say, but Manuel went on.
“
I was gonna charge you more, but guys like Tito here, they
’
re sub-sidizin guys like you.
”
The amount on
the invoice was nevertheless a
Beverly Hills type of number, and half Doc
’
s day got blown setting up a
payment schedule.
“
Come on,
”
said Tito,
“
I
’
ll buy you lunch. I need your advice on
something.
”
They went down to Pico and headed toward Rancho Park. This
street was a chowhound
’s
delight. Back when Doc was still new in
town, one day around sunset—the daily event, not the boulevard—he
was in Santa Monica near the western end of Pico, the light over all deep L.A. softening to purple with some darker gold to it, and from
this angle and hour of the day it seemed to him he could see all the
way down Pico for miles into the heart of the great Megalopolis itself,
having yet to discover that if he wanted to, he could also
eat
his way
down Pico night after night for a long while before repeating an ethnic
category. This did not always turn out to be good news for the indecisive
doper who might know he was hungry but not necessarily how to deal with it in terms of
specific food.
Many was the night Doc ran out of gas, and his munchies-afflicted companions out of patience, long before set
tling on where to go eat.
Today they ended up at a Greek restaurant called Tek
é
, which accord
ing to Tito meant an old-time hashish parlor in Greek.
“
I hope this won
’
t be a problem,
”
said Tito,
“
but word is around you
’
ve
been working on this Mickey Wolfmann case?
”
“
Not how I
’
d put it. Nobody
’
s paying me. Sometimes I think all it
is is guilt. Wolfmann
’
s girlfriend is my ex-old lady, she said she needed
help, so I
’
ve been trying to help.
”
Tito, who had made a point of facing the front entrance, lowered his voice till Doc could hardly hear him.
‘
“I’m
taking a chance that you ain
’
t
bent, Doc. You ain
’
t bent, are you?
”
“
Not so far, but I could always use a nice envelope full of cash.
”
“
These guys,
”
an unhappy look crossing Tito
’
s face,
“
don
’
t hand you
envelopes, it
’
s more like, do what they want, maybe they don
’
t fuck you
up too bad.
”
“
You
’
re sayin this is mob-related—
”
“
I only wish. I mean, I know some Family badasses who scare most
people, they sure scare me, but I wouldn
’
t ever go to them with this,
they
’
d just take a look at who it is and go, like,
‘
Pasadena, man.
’”
“
Not to mention you owe them money.
”
“
No more, I kicked all that.
”
“
What. No horses, no pan parlors? No Li
’
l T-Rex? No Salvatore
‘
Paper Cut
’
Gazzoni? No Adrian Prussia?
”
“
Nope, even Adrian
’
s off my ass anymore, all paid off, the vig,
everything.
”
“
Good news cause sooner or later that fucker
’
d be reachin for his
baseball bat, going to town on your head or somethin. Man gives
loan-sharkin a bad name.
”
“
They
’
re all in my sorry past now, I been twelve-steppin it, Doc.
Meetings, everythin.
”
“
Well, Inez must be happy. How long
’
s it been?
”
“
Comin up on six months next weekend. We
’
re gonna go celebrate it in style, too, we
’
re takin the limo to Vegas, stayin at Caesar
’
s—
”
“
Excuse me, Tito, am I confusing Las Vegas with someplace
else
where all they do is fucking gamble nonstop? How do you expect to—
”
“
Avoid temptation? Hey that
’
s just it, how
’
m I ever gonna know?
Thing is to jump in, see what happens.
”
“
Oboy. This is all cool with Inez?
”
“
Her idea.
”
Mike the owner and cook appeared with a huge plate of dolma
d
hes, Kalamata olives, and midget spanakopitas it looked like it would take a
week to polish off.
“
You
’
re sure you want to eat here,
”
he greeted Tito.
“
This is Doc, he saved my life once.
”
“
And this is how you thank him?
”
Mike shaking his head in reproof.
“
Think long and hard, my friends,
”
muttering back to the kitchen.
“
I saved your life?
”
Tito shrugged.
“
That time up on Mulholland.
”
“
You saved mine, man, you
’
re the one knew where it was,
”
this
particular
“
it
”
being a car-napped 1934 Hispano-Suiza J12 whose return
Doc had been negotiating with a Lithuanian thyroid case who showed up carrying a modified AK-47 with a banana clip so oversize that he kept tripping over it, which looking back was what had saved everybody
’
s lives, probably.
“
I was doin that all for myself, man, you happened to be there when we brought it back and all that money started flyin around.
”
“
Whatever, Doc—there
’
s somethin now that you
’
re the only one I
can tell it to.
”
A quick look around.
“
Doc, I was one of the last people to talk to Mickey Wolfmann before he dropped off the screen.
”
“
Shit,
”
replied Doc, encouragingly.
“
And no, I haven
’
t been near the heat with this. It would get back to these guys before I was out the door, and I
’
d end up a shark hors oeuvre.
“
D and D, Tito.
”
“
What happened, Mickey got to where he didn
’
t always trust his
drivers. They were most of
’em
ex-cons, which meant they had their own
IOUs to pay off that sometimes he didn
’
t know about. So once in a while
he calls me on the unlisted line, and I pick him up someplace we decide
on at the last minute.
”
“
You used that limo? Not exactly a low profile.
”
“
Nah, we
’
d use Falcons or Novas, I can always score one on short notice, even a VDub if it ain
’
t painted too funny.
”
“
So the day Mickey disappeared
...
he called you? you took him
someplace?
”
“
He wanted me to pick him up. He called in the middle of the night,
it sounded like a pay phone, he was talking real quiet, he was scared, like somebody was after him. He gave me an address out of town, I drove up
there and waited, but he never showed. After a couple hours I was getting too much attention so I split.
”
“
Where was this?
”
“
Ojai, near someplace called Chryskylodon.
”
“
I
’
ve been hearing about it,
”
Doc said,
“
some nuthouse for the upper brackets. Old Indian word that means
‘
serenity.
’”
“
Ha!
”
Tito shook his head.
“
Who told you that?
”
“
It
’
s in their brochure?
”
“
It ain
’
t Indian, it
’
s Greek, trust me, they talked Greek around the house all the time I was coming up.
”
“
What
’
s it mean in Greek?
”
“
Well, it
’
s squashed together a little, but it means like a gold tooth, this one here—
”
He tapped at a canine.
“
Oh, shit. Tang
’
? Could it be that?
”
“
Yeah, close enough. Gold fang.
”