James Ellroy_Underworld U.S.A. 03 (26 page)

The folder was unscuffed. The paper smelled new. It was an un-visited and un-mourned document.

He'd called Mary Beth three times. She never answered. He called at one-day intervals and let the phone ring twenty times.

He put the file down. He hesitated. He dialed her number again. He got four rings and her near-brusque hello.

“It's Wayne Tedrow, Mrs. Hazzard.”

She near-laughed. “Well, it's good to hear from you, but I can't say I'm surprised.”

“Can we get coffee?”

“All right, but I'll bring it.”

“Where?”

“That first rest stop on I-15. I shouldn't be seen with you.”

The then to now blurred. This rest stop and the rest stop near Dallas. Sand drifts and scrub balls then. Desert grit now. Wendell D. in pimp threads. Similar rest-room huts blurred seamless.

Wayne pulled in. Mary Beth sat in a '62 Valiant. It was midday and crowded. She'd parked away from the other cars. Wayne leaped in her car. She smiled and slapped the steering wheel. The horn beeped. Wayne banged his knees on the dashboard.

“We're not fugitives, you know.”

Wayne said, “You could make a case for it.”

She handed him a paper cup with a napkin attached. The bottom was seeping.

“I forgot to ask for cream and sugar.”

“Any way's fine with me.”

“Are you always so accommodating?”

“No, I tend to be a bit peremptory.”

Mary Beth smiled. “I know. I saw Buddy Fritsch on Fremont Street yesterday. He was wearing a splint on his nose.”

Wayne held the cup two-handed. The coffee was too hot. He sipped it slow. It was pure busywork.

“My friends think you're crazy.”

“What do you say to them?”

“That men who want things from you usually give you things or show you things, which is the same as telling you things flat out. I say, ‘Mr. Tedrow has something to tell me, and he doesn't have the words, but he sure knows a gesture.' ”

Wayne put his cup on the dashboard. It rocked and sat still. He turned toward Mary Beth and laced his hands over one knee.

“Tell me about your son.”

“He made me wish there were two or three more of him, which coming from a busy-making person like me says quite a bit.”

“That describes your feeling for him. I was thinking of your assessment of him as a young man.”

Mary Beth sipped coffee. “He was a reader and a chemistry dabbler. He went on binges with books and his chemistry sets. He was trying to figure out the world with his mind, which I respected.”

A car pulled up next to them. A white couple gawked. Wayne said, “And the police investigation?”

“About what you'd expect. It came and went in about half a day, so Cedric and I hired a private detective. His name was Morty Sidwell, and I think he did an adequate job. He checked death records and police and hospital records all over the country and became convinced that Reginald was still alive. We ran out of money after a while, so we had to let the whole thing go.”

The white people kept staring. Wayne kept looking over. Mary Beth said, “Let it go. I don't think I can take another gesture from you.”

Wayne hitched his seat back. It freed up his legs. Mary Beth put her cup on the dashboard.

“President Kennedy was killed a few weeks before Reginald disappeared. He was very upset.”

The white people drove off. Dad did some double-clutch thing and kicked gravel their way.

“Do you remember where you were that weekend?”

Wayne looked at her. “I was in Dallas.”

“Why?”

“I was trying to find Wendell Durfee.”

“And?”

“And I found him, and I let him go.”

More cars pulled in. It got claustrophobic. Wayne jittered up and broke a sweat. Mary Beth put her hand on his knee.

DOCUMENT INSERT
: 9/16/68. “
SUBVERSIVE PERSONS
” Summary Report. Marked: “Chronology/Known Facts/Observations/Known Associates/Memberships & Organizations.” Subject:
KLEIN, JOAN ROSEN
/Numerous Unknown Aliases/white female/DOB 10/31/26, New York City. Compiled: 3/14/67.

1.—Summation:
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
must be viewed as a seditiously anti-American figure with pervasive connections to dangerous radical organizations across a wide left-wing ideological spectrum dating back over 20 years. She has been a “community organizer,” a planner of “protest marches” for numerous subversive causes, an instructor at dubious “Freedom Schools” that espouse Communist Party–line doctrine, and, most pertinently, a strong ally of radical-Left groups that have advocated the violent overthrow of the United States government—i.e.,
THE SOCIALIST WORKER'S PARTY
,
THE STUDENTS FOR A DEMOCRATIC SOCIETY and THE REVOLUTIONARY ACTION MOVEMENT
. These organizations have announced their solidarity with violent black-nationalist organizations, the
BLACK PANTHER PARTY and US
, marking them as Level-4 security risks.
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
has also been suspected (unproven) of participation in armed robberies in Los Angeles in 1951 & 1953/no further information available, and of two 1954 armed robberies in Ohio & New York/no further information available.

SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN'S
grandfather,
ISIDORE HER
-
SCHEL KLEIN
(1874–1937), was a wealthy emerald merchant and left-wing polemicist who donated large amounts of money to anarchist groups, radical pro-labor groups & Communist Front causes. His son
JOSEPH LEON KLEIN
(1902–1940) was a confirmed radical zealot, as was his wife
HELEN HERSHFIELD ROSEN KLEIN
(1904–1940). Their 1940 deaths left
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
orphaned. She resurfaced during the war years and was detained for Alien and Sedition Act violations, disorderly behavior at Communist-organized protest rallies and was photo-surveilled at nationwide meetings of the
COMMUNIST PARTY USA, SOCIALIST LABOR PARTY, STUDENTS PEACE UNION, LEAGUE FOR INDUSTRIAL DEMOCRACY, TRADE UNION UNITY LEAGUE
, and at various rallies for exiled Communist sympathizer Paul Robeson.
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
is rumored to have authored the
most virulently anti-American literature distributed by the above-referenced organizations.

2.—
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
considers herself to be an itinerant academic by trade and recently (1962) taught at a radically funded “Freedom School” adjunct of the University of Southern California, where she allegedly mentored Negro students in chemistry and physics. She has heavily cloaked relationships and mail-drop correspondences with numerous left-wing college professors who serve to facilitate her meetings with other like-minded subversives inhabiting the Communist/Socialist/Radical underground.
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
travels extensively abroad (most likely under false passports), has allegedly spent time in Communist Cuba (in violation of travel-ban edicts) and allegedly has ties to the Communist-backed 6/14 Movement in the Dominican Republic and has written anti-American, anti-Dominican polemics excoriating the alleged mistreatment of Haitian peasants by “U.S.-backed fascist interests colluding with Dominican despots in the genocidal war against Haiti.” These polemics were allegedly co-authored by a Dominican woman known only by the first name of “Celia.”

3.—
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
is known to have traveled extensively within the continental United States and is often flown (by wealthy fellow travelers) to insurrectionist hot spots to confer with radical leaders and advise them how to best achieve their ends. Her sub-specialty is the recruitment of the naïve college students who attend her “Freedom School” classes, and she has been rumored to have assisted many young people in “dropping out” and assuming “underground identities.” Subversive-meeting-group index logs and photo-surveillance logs note
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN'S
attendance at loyalty-oath protest meetings in Los Angeles on 8/30/50; Free the Rosenbergs rallies in New York City in 6/52; rallies of the
INDEPENDENT PROGRESSIVE PARTY
in Boston in 11/51.
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
was also spotted at Communist-backed rallies for the Stockholm Peace Petition in 14 U.S. cities in 1950.

4.—More recently,
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
has mediated “peace pacts” between rancorous left-wing factions and (primarily white) groups allied with black-militant groups. She was allegedly the author of a 200-page pamphlet advising the
YOUNG SOCIALIST ALLIANCE
in their “Violent Workers War to Overthrow the State of Indiana.”
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
has (1966) worked as a “disk jockey” at the left-wing radio station Radio-Free Dixie and
was recently spotted (photo-surveillance) with members of the violent radical group the
WEATHER UNDERGROUND
. Four issues of their Communist-influenced newsletter, “The Weather Report,” bear her byline.
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
is also rumored to be adept at maintaining “safe houses”—i.e., hideouts for violent fugitive radicals.

6.—
SUBJECT JOAN ROSEN KLEIN
(current whereabouts unknown) must be considered a Level-4 security risk and should be put on the all-city alert for frequent mail intercepts, photo surveillance and possible regular stints of 48-hour detention. (Periodic updates to follow as new information accrues.) Routing #1499684/Central Records/Washington, D.C. SA Holly: please return by Inter-Bureau mail cover.

(Los Angeles, 9/19/68)

I
t's her hair
.

The gray streaks. No concessions for forty-one. Her bare arms to spotlight the knife scar. She vibed her age, she dressed mature, she eschewed kid aesthetics. The scar was sufficient Fuck You.

They lit cigarettes. Their booth was big and wraparound. Ollie Hammond's was pre-lunch slow.

Joan Klein said, “You haven't mentioned the pay.”

Dwight sipped coffee. “A thousand a month, cold. Spend a hundred a week getting next to our targets. Buy food for the Feed the Kiddies scams, so the brothers can allot more money for guns and dope.”

“And my duties beyond that?”

“Report in full, be discreet, don't forward information that could only have come from you.
Protect your informant status
. Warn me in advance of potential violent crime and any specific talk of actions against police officers.”

Joan smiled. “Beyond the usual ‘kill the pigs' chatter?”

Dwight smiled. “Specific pigs, tell me. Nebulous, honky-pig-motherfucker bullshit, I can do without.”

It's her glasses
.

The black frames, the loose fit, the dips down the bumps on her nose.

Dwight said, “You know Karen Sifakis.”

“I know
of
a woman named ‘Karen the Bombmaker.' She knows people who know people who know me.
You
know all about cutouts, mail drops and dead-letter fronts.”

Heartburn—Dwight popped two mints. A persistent waiter hovered. Dwight glared him off.

“I've read your file.”

“I figured you had.”

“It's threadbare and full of inconsistencies. I can't tell if you're a red-diaper peacenik or an armed-robber manqué.”

Joan blew smoke rings. “Assume both and there'll be fewer surprises.”

Dwight stubbed out his cigarette. “No court filings, no paperwork. Four suspicion rousts, no DR numbers to indicate dispos—”

“Four robberies in cities undergoing labor strikes. Random roundups of Smith Act violators, names on Red Alert sheets, cops out for some fun.”

Dwight poured them fresh coffee. “Did you roll over on any of your comrades?”

“No.”

“How long were you detained?”

“It varied.”

“Were you physically threatened?”

“A cop in Dayton, Ohio, hit me with a phone book.”

“Your reaction?”

“An injudicious comment about his mother.”

Dwight laughed. “And then?”

“They put me in a tank with some bull daggers. One girl was cute. I liked the kisses, but she moved a little too fast to suit me.”

She spoke precisely. New York lurked in her vowels. She shifted her voice patterns—a skilled dissembler's trait
.

Dwight said, “I've never rebuffed an amorous dyke in a holding tank.”

Joan said, “I stabbed her with a fork. The tines cut through her cheek and lodged in her upper palate.”

Dwight quashed a grin. Joan sipped coffee. She had a gaunt up-all-night look.

“How will we communicate?”

“Phone drops for now. Tuesdays at 10:00 a.m. The pay phone at Silver Lake and Effie.”

“I have a teleph—”

“You're being disingenuous, Miss Klein. I don't want to know where you live, and I'll find you when I need you.”