Inherent Vice (12 page)

“
Now, now, Sportello
’
s only doing his job,
”
Bigfoot pretended to soothe the other cop,
“
trying to figure out what happened to Mickey
W
o
lfmann, just like the rest of us. Anything so far you
’
d like to share on
that, Sportello? Who
’
s—beg pardon,
how
’
s
—the missus doing?
”

“
That
’
s one brave little lady,
”
Doc, nodding sincerely. He thought about getting into what Pat Dubonnet had told him about Bigfoot and Mickey being ace buddies, but there was something about the way this other cop was listening to them. .. way too attentive, maybe even, if
you wanted to be paranoid about it, as if he was undercover, reporting to some other level inside the LAPD, his real job, basically, to keep an eye
on Bigfoot
...

Too much to think about. Doc deployed his most feckless doper
’
s grin.
“
There
’
s law enforcement in there, guys, but nobody introduced me. Could even be the
federa
l
es
for all I know.
”

“
I love it when a case goes all to hell,
”
remarked Bigfoot with a sunny
smile.
“
Don
’
t you, Lester, doesn
’
t it just remind you why we
’
re all here?
”

“
Cheer up, compadre,
”
said Lester, returning to the car,
“
our day will
come.
”

Off they sped, hitting the siren just to be cute. Doc got in his car and sat staring at the Wolfmann residence.

Something had been puzzling him now for a while—namely, what,
exactly, was with Bigfoot here, riding around in these black-and-whites
all the time? Far as Doc knew, detectives in suits and ties rode in unmarked sedans, usually two at a time, and uniformed officers did
the same. But he couldn
’
t recall ever seeing Bigfoot out on the job with
another detective—

Oh, wait a minute. Out of the permanent smog alert he liked to think
of as his memory, something began to emerge—a rumor, likely by way
of Pat Dubonnet, about a partner of Bigfoot
’
s who
’
d been shot and killed
a while back in the line of duty. And ever since then, so the story went,
Bigfoot had worked alone, no replacements either asked for or assigned.
If this meant Bigfoot was still in some kind of cop mourning, he and the
dead guy must
’
ve been unusually close.

This bond between partners was nearly the only thing Doc had ever found to admire about the LAPD. For all the Department
’
s long sorrowful history of corruption and abuse of power, here was at least something they had not sold but kept for themselves, forged in the dangerous life-and-death uncertainties of
one working day after another—
something real that had to be respected. No faking it, no question of
buying it with favors, money, promotions—the entire range of capitalist
inducement couldn
’
t get you five seconds of attention to your back when
it really counted, you had to go out there and earn it by putting your pitiful ass on the line, again and again. Without knowing any details of the history Bigfoot and his late partner had been through together, Doc would still bet the contents of his stash for the next year that Bigfoot if,
improbably, asked to generate a list of people he loved, would have put
this guy up near the top.

Meaning what, however? Was Doc about to start offering Bigfoot free advice, here?
No
nono
,
bad idea, Doc warned himself, bad idea, just let the man deal with his grief, or whatever it is, without your help, okay?

Sure, Doc answered himself, cool with me, man.

_SIX

UNABLE TO REACH HER AT HOME, DOC FINALLY HAD TO CALL
Deputy DA Penny Kimball at her office downtown. A lunch date had
just happened to cancel, so she agreed to pencil Doc in. He showed up at a peculiar skid-row eatery off Temple where wine abusers up from bed
rolls in vacant lots back of what remained of the old Nickel mingled with
Superior Court judges taking recess breaks, not to mention a popula
tion of lawyers in suits, whose high-decibel jabbering rebounded off the
mirrored walls, rattling and threatening at times to knock over all the
eighty-five-cent mickeys of muscatel and tokay stacked up in pyramids
behind the steam tables.

Presently in strolled Penny, one hand loosely in a jacket pocket, exchanging civilized remarks with any number of perfectly groomed
co-workers. She was wearing shades and one of those gray polyester busi
ness outfits with a very short skirt.

“
This Wolfmann-Charlock case,
”
is how she greeted Doc—
”
apparently
one of your old girlfriends is a principal?
”
Not that he was expecting a
friendly kiss or anything—there were colleagues watching, and he didn
’
t
want to, what you
’
d call, fuck up her act. She put her
attaché
case on the
table and sat staring at Doc, a courtroom technique no doubt.

“
I just heard that she skipped,
”
Doc said.

“
Put it another way... how close
were you
and Shasta Fay Hepworth?
”

He
’
d been asking himself this for a while now but didn
’
t know the
answer.
“
It was all over with years ago,
”
he said.
“
Months? She had other
fish to fry. Did it break my heart? Sure did. If you hadn
’
t come along, babe, who knows how bad it might
’
ve got?
”

“
True, you were a fucking mess. But old times aside, have you had any contact with Miss Hepworth in, say, the last week or so?
”

“
Well now, funny you should ask. She called me up a couple days before Mickey Wolfmann disappeared, with a story about how his wife and her boyfriend were plotting to hustle Mickey into the booby hatch
and grab all his money. So I sure hope you guys, or the cops or whoever,
are looking into that.
”

“
And with your years of experience as a PI, would you call that a reli
able lead?
”

“
I
’
ve known worse—oh, wait, I dig, you
’
re all gonna just ignore this. Right? some hippie chick with boyfrien
d trouble, brains all discombob
ulated with dope sex rock
‘
n
’
roll—
”

“
Doc, I never see you this emotional.
”

“‘
Cause the lights are out, usually.
”

“
Uh-huh, well apparently you didn
’
t tell any of this to Lieutenant Bjornsen, when he pulled you in at the crime scene.
”

“
I promised Shasta I
’
d come talk to you first, see if anybody at the DA
’
s shop could help. Kept calling you, day and night, no reply, next thing I know Wolfmann
’
s gone, Glen Charlock
’
s dead.
”

“
And Bjornsen seems to think you
’
re as good a suspect as anyone in this.
”

“‘
Seems to—
’
you
’
ve been
talking,
to
Bigfoot,
about me? Wow, well
never trust a flatland chick, man, prime directive of life at the beach, all we
’
ve been to each other too, hey if that
’
s the way it must be, okay, as
Roy Orbison always sez,
”
holding out his wrists dramatically,
“
let
’
s git it
over with—
”

“
Doc. Shh. Please.
”
She was so cute when she got embarrassed, nose-wrinkling and so forth, but it didn
’
t last long.
“
Besides, maybe you
did
do it, has that crossed your mind y
et? Maybe you just conveniently
forgot about it, the way you do so often forget things, and this peculiar
reaction of yours now is a typically twisted way of confessing the act?
”

“
Well, but
...
How would I forget something like that?
”

“
Grass and who knows what else, Doc.
”

“
Hey, come on, I
’
m only a light smoker.
”

“
Oh? How many joints a day, on average?
”

“
Urn ... have to look in the log....
”

“
Listen, Bjornsen
’
s in charge of the case, that
’
s all, he
’
ll be interview
ing hundreds of you people—
”

“
Us people. Come in my fuck
’
n
window
again
’s
basically what you
’
re
sayin.
”

“
According to police reports, you have tended to barricade your door
on previous occasions.
”

“
You pulled my jacket and looked me up? Penny, you really
do
care!
”
with a glance meant to be appreciative, but which all these mirrors in here, as Doc checked out his image, were somehow presenting as just another red-eyed doper
’
s stare.

“
I
’
m going after a sandwich. Can I bring you something? Ham, lamb,
or beef.
”

“
Maybe just Vegetable of the Day?
”

Doc watched her getting in line. What kind of DDA game was she running on him now? He wished he could believe her more, but the business was unforgiving, and life in psychedelic-sixties L.A. offered more cautionary arguments than you could wave a joint at against too much trust, and the seventies were looking no more promising.

Penny knew more about this case than she was telling Doc. He
’
d seen
enough of that shifty way legals had of holding back information—
lawyers taught it to each other, attended weekend seminars out in motels in La Puente just to work on greasiness skills—and there was no reason,
sad to say, that Penny should be any exception.

She got back to the table with the Vegetable of the Day, steamed Brussels sprouts, heaped on a plate. Doc waded in.

“
Yum, man! see that Tabasco a minute—hey, have you talked yet to
anybody over at the coroners? Maybe your friend Lagonda
’
s seen Glens
autopsy?
”

Penny shrugged.
“
Lagonda describes the matter as Very sensitive
’
there. The body
’
s already been cremated, and she won
’
t say any more
than that.
”
She watched Doc eat for a while.
“
Well! And how
’
s every
thing at the beach?
”
with a low-sincerity smile he knew enough by now
to beware.
“‘
Groovy
’
?
‘
psychedelic
’
? surf bunnies all as attentive as ever?
Oh and how are those two stews I caught you with that time?
”

“
I told you, man, it was that Jacuzzi, the pumps were on too high, those bikinis just kind of mysteriously came undone, it wasn
’
t nothin
deliberate—
”

As it seemed she never missed a chance to do lately, Penny was
referring to Doc
’
s off-and-on partners in mischief, the notorious
stewardii Lourdes and Motella, who occupied a palatial bachelorette pad in Gordita, down on Beachfront Drive, with a sauna and a pool,
and a bar in the middle of the pool, and usually an endless supply of
high-quality weed, as the ladies were known to smuggle in forbidden
merchandise, having by now, it was said, enormous fortunes stashed
in offshore bank accounts. Yet after nightfall most any layover here, it
seemed that they ended up cruising the bleak arterials of dismal L.A. backwaters, seeking out of some helpless fatality the company of low-
lifes of opportunity.

“
Maybe you
’
ll be seeing them sometime soon?
”
Penny avoiding eye
contact.

“
Lourdes and Motella,
”
he inquired as gently as he could,
“
they
’
re,
uh, Chicks of Interest to your shop?
”

“
Not so much them as some company they
’
ve been keeping lately. If
in the course of bikini-related activities you should happen to hear them
mention by name either or both of a pair of young gentlemen known as
Cookie and Joaquin, could you try to make a note of it on something
waterproof and let me know?
”

“
Hey, if you
’
re thinkin of dating outside the legal profession, I can
sure fix you up. If you
’
re really desperate, there
’
s always me.
”

She
’
d been looking at her watch.
“
Hectic week ahead for me, Doc, so
unless any of this heats up dramatically, I hope you understand.
”