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.But maybe the Kafesjians ain't gonna control the Southside traffic that much longer.""Did Junior Stemmons tell you that?""Maybe he did.But maybe it's just loose talk pertainin' to this big Southside Federal thing.And either way I ain't no snitch."Tough monkey."Leroy, why don't you tell me how Junior Stemmons muscled you.""Fuck you.""Why don't you tell me what you two talked about.""Fuck your mother.""You know, if you cooperate with me, it might help bring the Kafesjians down.""Fuck you.I ain't no snitch.""Leroy, were you acquainted with a maryjane pusher named Wardell Knox?""Fuck you, so what if I was.""He was murdered.""No shit, Sherlock.""You know, there's quite a push to clear up these Negro homicides.""No shit, Dick Tracy."Tough and stupid.I walked Orchard next door and cuffed him in tight.Back to Leroy--Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html"Give on you and Junior Stemmons, or I drive you down to 77th Street and tell Dudley Smith you killed Wardell Knox and molested a bunch of little white kids."Coup de grace--I laid the H on the table."Go ahead, I never saw it."Leroy snatched his shit back.Zoooom--instant cooperation:"All that Junior punk and me _did_ was talk.Mostly he talked and I listened, 'cause he shook me down for my roll and some shit, and I knew that wasn't no crackerjack badge he showed me.""Did he mention Tommy Kafesjian?""Not Tommy specific.""Tommy's sister Lucille?""Uh-uh.""A peeper spying on Lucille?""Uh-uh, he just said the Kafesjian family itself was going down, gonna get fucked up by the Federal business.He said LAPD Narco was gonna get neutralizized by the Feds, and he was gonna be the new Southside dope kingpin--"KILL HIM.--"this snotnose little twerpy cop flying on a snootful of shit.He said he had the goods on the Kafesjians, and access to his boss's burglary investigation, which was full of dirty stuff to blackmail J.C.Kafesjian with--"KILL HIM.--"and he said he was gonna drive the Kafesjians out and steal their turf, and right about this time I'm biting my tongue to keep from laughing.Next he says he's got stuff on these brothers working for Mickey Cohen.He said they're gonna pull these sex shakedowns on movie stars--"Junior's FI cards--Vecchio stud service----"and the capper is little Junior says he's gonna take over Mickey Cohen's kingdom, which as I understand it ain't such a hot kingdom no more.""And?""And I was just thinking the money and dope I lost was worth it to catch this crazy motherfucker's act."Woods' surveillance--Junior, Tommy and J.C.at Bido Lito's.Overheard: he'd protect THEM from ME.Double-agent Junior--mercy-kill him."Give me the dope back.""Man, you said I could have it!"Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html"Give it to me.""Fuck you, lying motherfucker!"I sapped him down, broke his wrists, pried it free.CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR"Crazy motherfucker's act."Junior's door--six padlocks--crazy new precautions.The dumbfuck used LAPD hardware--my master keys got me in.Hit the lights--Rice Krispies on the floor.Piano wire strung ankle-high.Closet doors nailed shut; mousetraps on the furniture.CRAAAAZY.Toss it slow now--the trunk distracted me last time--I pried the closets open--nothing but food scraps inside.Cornflakes and tacks on the kitchen floor.Sink sludge--motor oil, glass shards; friction tape sealing the icebox.Peel it off--Amyl nitrite poppers in an ice tray.Reefer buds in a casserole dish.Chocolate ice cream--plastic shoved down an open pint container.Dump it, yank--One Minox spy camera--no film loaded in.The hall--neck-high wires--duck.The bathroom--mousetraps, a medicine chest glued shut.Smash it open--K-Y jelly and two C-notes on a shelf.A hamper--nailed tight--pry, pull--Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlBloody hypos--spikes up-a booby trap.Dump them--a small steel strongbox underneath.Locked--I banged it open on the wall.Booty:One B of A Hollywood branch passbook--balance $9,183.40.Two safe-deposit-box keys, one instruction card.Fuck: "Box access requires password and/or visual okay."Call it:Evidence holes--Junior caution pre--complete CRAAAZY.Logic:Glenda/Klein dispositions stashed THERE--ditto the gun Georgie Ainge sold Glenda._Find the password_.I tossed the bedroom--carpet glass spread thick--the trunk gone.The drawers--pure shit--paper scraps gibberish-scrawled.I dumped the mattress, the couch, the chairs--no rips, no stash holes.I pulled the TVapart--mousetraps snapped.That wall section I shot out--stuffed with Kotex.No password.No H cards.No depositions.No Exley/no Duhamel files.Snap, crackle, pop--Rice Krispies underfoot [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.But maybe the Kafesjians ain't gonna control the Southside traffic that much longer.""Did Junior Stemmons tell you that?""Maybe he did.But maybe it's just loose talk pertainin' to this big Southside Federal thing.And either way I ain't no snitch."Tough monkey."Leroy, why don't you tell me how Junior Stemmons muscled you.""Fuck you.""Why don't you tell me what you two talked about.""Fuck your mother.""You know, if you cooperate with me, it might help bring the Kafesjians down.""Fuck you.I ain't no snitch.""Leroy, were you acquainted with a maryjane pusher named Wardell Knox?""Fuck you, so what if I was.""He was murdered.""No shit, Sherlock.""You know, there's quite a push to clear up these Negro homicides.""No shit, Dick Tracy."Tough and stupid.I walked Orchard next door and cuffed him in tight.Back to Leroy--Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html"Give on you and Junior Stemmons, or I drive you down to 77th Street and tell Dudley Smith you killed Wardell Knox and molested a bunch of little white kids."Coup de grace--I laid the H on the table."Go ahead, I never saw it."Leroy snatched his shit back.Zoooom--instant cooperation:"All that Junior punk and me _did_ was talk.Mostly he talked and I listened, 'cause he shook me down for my roll and some shit, and I knew that wasn't no crackerjack badge he showed me.""Did he mention Tommy Kafesjian?""Not Tommy specific.""Tommy's sister Lucille?""Uh-uh.""A peeper spying on Lucille?""Uh-uh, he just said the Kafesjian family itself was going down, gonna get fucked up by the Federal business.He said LAPD Narco was gonna get neutralizized by the Feds, and he was gonna be the new Southside dope kingpin--"KILL HIM.--"this snotnose little twerpy cop flying on a snootful of shit.He said he had the goods on the Kafesjians, and access to his boss's burglary investigation, which was full of dirty stuff to blackmail J.C.Kafesjian with--"KILL HIM.--"and he said he was gonna drive the Kafesjians out and steal their turf, and right about this time I'm biting my tongue to keep from laughing.Next he says he's got stuff on these brothers working for Mickey Cohen.He said they're gonna pull these sex shakedowns on movie stars--"Junior's FI cards--Vecchio stud service----"and the capper is little Junior says he's gonna take over Mickey Cohen's kingdom, which as I understand it ain't such a hot kingdom no more.""And?""And I was just thinking the money and dope I lost was worth it to catch this crazy motherfucker's act."Woods' surveillance--Junior, Tommy and J.C.at Bido Lito's.Overheard: he'd protect THEM from ME.Double-agent Junior--mercy-kill him."Give me the dope back.""Man, you said I could have it!"Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html"Give it to me.""Fuck you, lying motherfucker!"I sapped him down, broke his wrists, pried it free.CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR"Crazy motherfucker's act."Junior's door--six padlocks--crazy new precautions.The dumbfuck used LAPD hardware--my master keys got me in.Hit the lights--Rice Krispies on the floor.Piano wire strung ankle-high.Closet doors nailed shut; mousetraps on the furniture.CRAAAAZY.Toss it slow now--the trunk distracted me last time--I pried the closets open--nothing but food scraps inside.Cornflakes and tacks on the kitchen floor.Sink sludge--motor oil, glass shards; friction tape sealing the icebox.Peel it off--Amyl nitrite poppers in an ice tray.Reefer buds in a casserole dish.Chocolate ice cream--plastic shoved down an open pint container.Dump it, yank--One Minox spy camera--no film loaded in.The hall--neck-high wires--duck.The bathroom--mousetraps, a medicine chest glued shut.Smash it open--K-Y jelly and two C-notes on a shelf.A hamper--nailed tight--pry, pull--Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlBloody hypos--spikes up-a booby trap.Dump them--a small steel strongbox underneath.Locked--I banged it open on the wall.Booty:One B of A Hollywood branch passbook--balance $9,183.40.Two safe-deposit-box keys, one instruction card.Fuck: "Box access requires password and/or visual okay."Call it:Evidence holes--Junior caution pre--complete CRAAAZY.Logic:Glenda/Klein dispositions stashed THERE--ditto the gun Georgie Ainge sold Glenda._Find the password_.I tossed the bedroom--carpet glass spread thick--the trunk gone.The drawers--pure shit--paper scraps gibberish-scrawled.I dumped the mattress, the couch, the chairs--no rips, no stash holes.I pulled the TVapart--mousetraps snapped.That wall section I shot out--stuffed with Kotex.No password.No H cards.No depositions.No Exley/no Duhamel files.Snap, crackle, pop--Rice Krispies underfoot [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]