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cot's all I wanted。 Please； mister。〃
The geez didn't look strong enough to lift a knife； let alone tie a woman down and carry the two halves of her stiff out to a car。 I moved to Cecil Durkin。
〃Tell me about it； Cecil。〃
The hepcat mocked me。 〃Tell you about it？ You get that line from Dick Tracy or Gangbusters？〃
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Fritzie watching； measuring me。 〃One more time； shitbird。 Tell me about you and Betty Short。〃
Durkin giggled。 〃I fucked Betty Short and I fucked your mama！ I'm your daddy！〃
I one…two'd him in the solar plexus； hard little shots。 Durkin's legs buckled； but he kept his feet on the chair。 He gasped for breath； got a lungful and went back to bravado： 〃You think you clever； don't you？ You the bad guy； your buddy the nice guy。 You gonna hit me； he gonna rescue me。 Don't you clowns know that bit went out with vaudeville？〃
I massaged my right hand； still bone bruised from Lee Blanchard and Joe Dulange。 〃I'm the nice guy； Cecil。 Keep that in mind。〃
It was a good line。 Durkin fumbled for a eback； I turned my attention to Charles Michael Issler。
He looked down and said； 〃I didn't kill Liz。 I don't know why I do these things； and I apologize。 So please don't let that man hurt me。〃
His manner was quietly sincere； but something about him put me off。 I said； 〃Convince me。〃
〃I 。 。 。 I can't。 I just didn't。〃
I thought of Issler as a pimp； Betty as a part…time prostie； and wondered if there was a possible connection between them…then remembered that the hookers in the little black book questionings said she always worked freelance。 I said； 〃Did you know Betty Short？〃
〃No。〃
〃Did you know of her？〃
〃No。〃
〃Why'd you confess to her murder？〃
〃She 。 。 。 she looked so sweet and pretty and I felt so bad when I saw her picture in the paper。 I 。 。 。 I always confess to the pretty ones。〃
〃Your rap sheet says you only cop to hooker snuffs。 Why？〃
〃Well； I 。 。 。〃
〃You hit your girls； Charlie？ You get them gone on hop？ You make them service your pals…〃
I stopped； thinking of Kay and Bobby De Witt。 Issler bobbed his head up and down； slowly at first； then harder and harder。 Soon he was sobbing； 〃I do such bad things； nasty； nasty things。 Nasty； nasty； nasty。〃
Fritzie walked over and stood beside me； brass knuckles coiled in both fists。 He said； 〃This kid gloves routine is getting us nowhere；〃 and kicked Issler's chair out from under him。 The confessor…pimp screamed and flopped like an impaled fish； bones snapped as the cuffs caught the brunt of his weight。 Fritzie said； 〃Watch； boyo。〃
Shouting； 〃Jack Roller！〃 〃Nigger！〃 〃Baby fucker！〃 he kicked the other three chairs to the floor。 Now there were confessors dangling four abreast； shrieking； grabbing at one another with their legs； an octopus in county jail denim。 The screams sounded like one voice…until Fritzie zeroed in on Charles Michael Issler。
He roundhoused the knuckle dusters into his midsection； left…right； left…right； left…right。 Issler screamed and gurgled； Fritzie yelled； 〃Tell me about the Dahlia's missing days you syphilitic whoremonger！〃
My legs felt like they were about to go。 Issler screeched； 〃I 。 。 。 don't 。 。 。 know 。 。 。 anything。〃 Fritzie shot him an uppercut to the crotch。
〃Tell me what you know！〃
〃I knew you at Ad Vice！〃
Fritzie winged rabbit punches。 〃Tell me what you know！ Tell me what your girls told you； you syphilitic whoremonger！〃
Issler retched； Fritzie moved in close and worked his body。 I heard ribs cracking； then stared off to my left； to a burglar alarm lever on the wall by the connecting doorway。 I stared and stared and stared； Fritizie ran into my field of vision and wheeled over the sheet…covered table I'd noticed before。
The loonies flopped on their hooks； moaning low。 Fritzie got right up next to me； cackled in my face； then whipped off the sheet。
The table held a naked female corpse； cut in half at the waist…a pudgy girl coiffed and made up to look like Elizabeth Short。 Fritzie grabbed Charlie Issler by the scruff of the neck； hissing； 〃For your cutting pleasure； may I present Jane Doe number forty…three。 You're all going to slice her； and the best slicer buys the ticket！〃
Issler shut his eyes and bit through his lower lip。 Old Man Bidwell went purple； starting to foam at the mouth。 I smelled loosed feces on Durkin and saw Orchard's wrists broken； twisted to right angles； bones and tendons exposed。 Fritzie pulled out a pachuco toad stabber and popped the blade。 〃Show me how you did it； you filths。 Show me what didn't get in the papers。 Show me and I'll be nice to you and make alllll your hurt go away。 Bucky； take off their cuffs。〃
My legs went。 I stumbled into Fritzie； hurled him to the floor； ran for the alarm and pulled the lever。 A code three response siren went off so good； so loud； so hard that it felt like its sound waves were what propelled me out of the warehouse and into the drunk wagon and all the way to Kay's door with no excuses and words of loyalty for Lee。
So were Kay Lake and I formally joined。
CHAPTER TWENTY…TWO
Tripping that alarm was the costliest act of my life。
Loew and Vogel succeeded in putting the hush on it。 I was booted off Warrants and back into uniform…swingwatch foot patrol out of Central Station； my old home。 Lieutenant Jastrow； the watch boss； was thick with the demon DA。 I could tell he was checking out my every act…waiting for me to snitch or rabbit or somehow follow up on the big wrong move I had to make。
I did nothing about it。 It was the word of a five…year officer versus a twenty…two…year man and the city's future District Attorney； backed by their hole card： the radio car officers who responded to the alarm were made the new Central Division Warrants team； a piece of serendipity guaranteed to keep them quiet and happy。 Two consolations kept me from going crazy： Fritzie didn't kill anybody； and when I checked the city jail release records I learned that the four confessors had been treated for 〃car crash injuries〃 at Queen of Angels and shipped to different state ding farms for 〃observation。〃 And my horror pushed me where I'd been too scared and stupid to go for a long； long time。
Kay。
That first night she was as much my grief catcher as my lover。 I was afraid of noise and abrupt movement； so she undressed me and made me be still； murmuring； 〃And all that；〃 every time I tried to talk about Fritzie or the Dahlia。 She touched me so softly that it was hardly touching at all； I touched every whole and healthy part of her until I felt my own body cease to be fists and cop muscle。 Then we roused each other slowly and made love； with Betty Short far away。
A week later I broke it off with Madeleine； the 〃neighbor girl〃 whose identity I had kept secret from Lee and Kay。 I didn't offer a reason； and the rich gutter crawler aced me as I was about to hang up the phone。 〃Find somebody safe？ You'll be back； you know。 I look like her。〃
Her。
A month passed。 Lee didn't return； the two dope traffickers were convicted and hanged for the De Witt…Chasco killings； my Fire and Ice ad continued to