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But those single pieces of paper were enough。
They were financial accountings； lists of bank balances and other assets； tallies made on known criminals that the Department couldn't legally touch。 The routing designations at the top of each sheet spelled it out plain…it was the LAPD shooting the feds hot dope so that they could initiate tax evasion investigations。 Handwritten notes…phone numbers； names and addresses…filled the margins； and I recognized Fritzie's Parker penmanship hand。
My breath came in short cold bursts as I thought： shakedown。 He's either putting the screws to the hoods based on info in the rest of the files or selling them tip…offs on impending fed rousts。
Extortion； first degree。
Theft and harboring of official LAPD documents。
Impeding the progress of federal investigations。
But no Johnny Vogel； Charlie Issler or Betty Short。
I tore through another fourteen folders； finding the same scrawled…over financial reports in all of them。 I memorized the side tab names； then moved to the bottom partment。 I saw 〃Known Offender Rpt…Administrative Vice Division〃 on the first file inside it…and knew I'd gotten the whole ball of wax。
Page one detailed the arrests； MO and confessing career of Charles Michael Issler； white male； born in Joplin； Missouri； in 1911； page two listed his 〃Known Associates。〃 A June 1946 〃whore book〃 check by his probation officer yielded six girls' names； followed by phone numbers and the arrest dates and dispositions of their hooking convictions。 There were an additional four female names below the heading 〃？…No Prostitution Record。〃 The third name was 〃Liz Short…Transient？〃
I turned to page three and read down the column headed 〃KAs； cont〃； one name harpooned me。 〃Sally Stinson〃 was in Betty Short's little black book； and none of the four questioning teams had been able to locate her。 In brackets beside her name； some Ad Vice dick had penciled in； 〃Works out of Biltmore bar…conventioneer johns。〃 Doodles in Fritzie's ink color surrounded the entry。
I forced myself to think like a detective； not a revenge…happy kid。 The extortion stuff aside； it was certain that Charlie Issler knew Betty Short。 Betty knew Sally Stinson； who hooked out of the Biltmore。 Fritz Vogel didn't want anybody to know it。 He probably arranged the warehouse stunt to find out how much Sally and/or his other girls had told Issler about Betty and the men she was recently with。
〃I proved I'm not no nancy boy。 Homos couldn't do what I did。 I'm not cherry no more； so don't say nancy boy。〃
I put the folders back in order； closed the cabinet； hit the light and relatched the backdoor before walking out the front like I owned the place； wondering briefly if there was any connection between Sally Stinson and the missing 〃S's〃 in the master file。 Treading air to my car； I knew it couldn't be… Fritzie didn't know that the El Nido work room existed。 Then another thought took over： if Issler had blabbed about 〃Liz〃 and her tricks I would have overheard。 Fritzie was confident he could keep me quiet。 It was an underestimation that I was going to bleed him for。
* * *
Russ Millard was waiting for me with two words： 〃Report； Officer。〃
I told him the whole story in detail。 When I finished； he saluted Elizabeth Short on the wall； said； 〃We're making progress； dear；〃 and formally stuck out his hand。
We shook； sort of like father and son after the big game。 〃What next； padre？〃
〃Next you go back to duty like none of this happened。 Harry and I will brace Issler at the nut farm； and I'll assign some men to look for Sally Stinson on the QT。〃
I swallowed。 〃And Fritzie？〃
〃I'll have to think about it。〃
〃I want him nailed。〃
〃I know you do。 But you keep one thing in mind。 The men that he extorted are criminals who would never testify against him in court； and if he gets wind of this and destroys the carbons； we wouldn't even be able to get him for an interdepartmental offense。 All of this is going to require corroboration； so for now it's just us。 And you had better settle down and control your temper until it's over。〃
I said； 〃I want in on the collar。'
Russ nodded。 〃I wouldn't have it any other way。〃 He tipped his hat to Elizabeth on the way out the door。
* * *
I went back to swingwatch and played sob sister； Russ put men out to look for Sally Stinson。 A day later； he called me at home with one dose of bad news； one of good：
Charles Issler had found a lawyer to file him a writ of habeaus corpus； he had been released from the Mira Loma ding farm three weeks before。 His LA apartment had been cleaned out； he couldn't be found。 That was a kick in the balls； but the confirmation on the Vogel extortion front made up for it。
Harry Sears checked Fritzie's felony arrest records…from Bunco in 1934 up through his current position in Central Detectives。 At one time or another Vogel had arrested every single man on the LAPD…FBI financial carbons。 And the feds did not indict a single one of them。
I rotated off…duty the next day； and spent it with the master file； thinking corroboration。 Russ called to say that he hadn't got any leads on Issler； that it looked like he'd blown town。 Harry was keeping Johnny Vogel under a loose surveillance on and off duty； a buddy working West Hollywood Sheriffs Vice had kicked loose with some KA addresses…friends of Sally Stinson。 Russ told me a half dozen times to take it easy and not jump the gun。 He knew damn well I already had Fritzie in Folsom and Johnny in the Little Green Room。
I was scheduled to go back on duty Thursday； and got up early in order to spend a long morning with the master file。 I was making coffee when the phone rang。
I picked it up； 〃Yes？〃
〃It's Russ。 We've got Sally Stinson。 Meet me at 1546 North Havenhurst in half an hour。〃
〃Rolling。〃
* * *
The address was a Spanish castle apartment house： whitewashed cement shaped into ornamental turrets； balconies topped by sun…weathered awnings。 Walkways led up to the individual doors； Russ was standing by the one on the far right。
I left the car in a red zone and trotted over。 A man in a disheveled suit and paper party hat strutted down the walkway； a slap…happy grin on his face。 He slurred； 〃Next shift； huh？ Twosies on onesies； ooh la la！〃
Russ led me up the steps。 I rapped on the door； a not…young blonde with mussed hair and smeared makeup threw it open； spat； 〃What did you forget this time？；〃 then； 〃Oh； shit。〃
Russ held out his badge。 〃LAPD。 Are you Sally Stinson？〃
〃No； I'm Eleanor Roosevelt。 Listen； I put out for the sheriff's more ways than one lately； so I'm tapped in the cash department。 You want the other？〃
I started to elbow my way inside； Russ grabbed my arm。 〃Miss Stinson； it's about Liz Short and Charlie Issler； and it's here or the women's jail。〃
Sally Stinson clutched the front of her robe and pressed it to her bodice。 She said； 〃Listen； I told the other guy；〃 then stopped and hugged herself。 She looked like the floozy victim confronting the monster in old horror movies； I knew exactly who her monster was。 〃We're not with h