The Picture Ranch 66

There were just the three of us in the flivver. Back at the ranch, Moose had undone the effects of all his ministrations. I’d known he wouldn’t like Miss Caruso’s smut-book sideline. Whatever had happened to Moose before he joined the Corps, it would never be in a Freddie Bartholemew movie. In the end, she had told us nothing useful. The smut came in the truck and left in sedans. Just like the dope would have. Moose was for burying her afterwards, but we crammed her corpse into the recess under the truck’s flat bed and laid the sheet of metal over the top. I was still sucking my finger when we hit the main drag towards Encino. We left the dead muscle in the yard. We hadn’t shot them, the county sheriff could work out who had left the brass behind in the dust.

We were heading all the way into LA. Back to China City. Back to Dean. Moose would get the location of the press. No doubt it was some warehouse as far out of LA as the ranch we had just left. I was in the back seat. Moose was blocking any view I had of the road ahead. On the outskirts of Encino, Miss G announced that we needed some gas, and soon.

‘I know a place. A one-pump outfit outside a body-shop. I want a word with the owner, anyhow.’

‘You mean Tommy?’

I wanted to ask how she knew Tommy, but figured I wouldn’t like the answer.

Tommy Jefferson, one arm in a grubby-looking sling, was waving a walking stick at us with the other hand, ever since we had gotten withind two hundred yards of the building. As Miss G drove closer, the bruises on his face showed up better.

Moose cleared his throat, ‘He tryin’ a’ get rid of us or wavin’ hello?’

It was the first. Eleanor G pulled up alongside the gas pump. Tommy’s stick hit the canvas roof about where Moose’s head was pouching the canvas.

‘We’ll just get the gas, and be on our way.’ Eleanor said, giving Tommy the eyelashes.

Tommy craned his neck to get a look at me past Moose. He pointed at his face,

‘Guys who did this were looking for you, Fisher. I ain’t in no hurry for another visit.’

‘Who sent ‘em?’

‘I ‘on’t care.’

Miss G got a pea-shooter out and pointed it past Moose towards Tommy,

‘Just fill the tank, Mr Jefferson. Then we’ll be on our way.’

Tommy obliged though it was difficult to manage with the stick and the sling.

‘Didja recognise anyone?’ I asked him, as Eleanor G handed over more dollars than would’ve bought a tanker full of gas.

‘It was Schulz. I done some shop-work for him once ‘r’ twice. No paint-jobs. Nuthin’ hinky.’

‘What did Mr Schulz want?’ She didn’t bother with the eyelashes this time.

‘He was asking about him,’ he said pointing at me. ‘If I’d seen him driving a truck.’
Then he pointed at his face, ‘took me a while to convince him I hadn’t.’

There wasn’t much traffic until we pulled up out front of the Encino Store. The road was effectively blocked. There were two squad cars and an ambulance outside. I hoped Henry wasn’t in it, and if he was, I hoped the blanket didn’t reach over his head. There were two bulls and a detective smoking out front too.

One of the bulls, 300 pounds of fatty beef, shouted,

‘Place is closed. Move al-’

Another detective came out of the door. It was the guy from The Red Menace bust. Flaherty.

‘I think these are people of interest in the investigation. Step out of the vehicle please.’

He kept his hands in his overcoat pockets, until he swept off his Fedora, and made a prissy little bow.

‘The famous Miss Gräfenberg, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.’

That was the trouble with LA, even the cops got their moves from the movies.