Free L.A. Confidential by James Ellroy

testify roundly, but you can plead ignorance to questions directed at the other men. Frankly, we must sate the public's clamor for blood by giving up some of our own."
      Dudley Smith: "I doubt if you've ever drawn a stupid breath, lad. Don't do it now."
      Trashcan Jack: "I'll do it."
      Smiles all around. Gallaudet said, "I'll go over your testimony with you, Sergeant. Dining Car lunch on Mr. Loew." Vincennes stood up; Loew walked him to the door.
      Whispers out the speaker: ". . . and I told Cooley you wouldn't do it again"--"Okay, boss." Parker nodded at the mirror.
      Ed walked in, straight to the hot seat. Smith said, "Lad, you're very much the man of the hour."
      Parker smiled. "Ed, I had you watch because your assessment of this situation has been very astute. Any last thoughts before you testify?"
      "Sir, am I correct in assuming that whatever criminal bills the grand jury hands down will be stalled or quashed during Mr. Loew's post-indictment process?"
      Loew grimaced. He'd hit a nerve--just like his father said he would. "Sir, am I correct in that?"
      Loew, patronizing. "Have you attended law school, Sergeant?"
      "No, sir. I haven't."
      "Then your esteemed father has given you good counsel."
      Voice steady. "No, sir. He hasn't."
      Smith said, "Let's assume you're correct. Let's assume that we are bending our efforts toward what all loyal policemen want: no brother officers tried publicly. Assuming that, what do you advise?"
      The pitch he'd rehearsed--verbatim. "The public will demand more than true bills, stalling tactics and dismissed indictments. Interdepartmental trial boards, suspensions and a big transfer shake-up won't be enough. You told Officer White that heads must roll. I agree, and for the sake of the chief's prestige and the prestige of the Department, I think we need criminal convictions and jail sentences."
      "Lad, I am shocked at the relish with which you just said that." Ed to Parker. "Sir, you've brought the Department back from Horrall and Worton. Your reputation is exemplary and the Department's has greatly improved. You can assure that it stays that way."
      Loew said, "Spill it, Exley. Exactly what does our junior officer informant think we should do?"
      Ed, eyes on Parker. "Dismiss the indictments on the men with their twenty in. Publicize the transfer shake-up and give the bulk of the men trial boards and suspensions. Indict Johnny Brownell, tell him to request a no-jury venue and have the judge let him off with a suspended sentence--his brother was one of the officers initially assaulted. And indict, try and convict Dick Stensland and Bud White. Secure them jail time. Boot them off the Department. Stensland's a drunken thug, White almost killed a man and supplied more liquor than Vincennes. Feed them to the goddamn sharks. Protect yourself, protect the Department."
      Silence, stretching. Smith broke it. "Gentlemen, I think our young sergeant's advice is rash and hypocritical. Stensland has his rough edges, but Wendell White is a valuable officer."
      "Sir, White is a homicidal thug."
      Smith started to speak; Parker raised a hand. "I think Ed's advice is worth considering. Ace them at the grand jury tomorrow, son. Wear a smart-looking suit and ace them."
      Ed said, "Yes, sir." He forced himself not to shout his joy to the rafters.

    CHAPTER TWELVE

      Spotlights, height strips: Jack at 5'11"; Frank Doherty, Dick Stens, John Brownell the short guys, Wilbert Huff, Bud White topping six. Central Jail punks across the glass, couched with D.A.'s cops taking names.
      A speaker squawked, "Left profile"; six men turned. "Right profile," "Face the wall," "Face the mirror"; "At ease, gentlemen." Silence; then: "Fourteen IDs apiece on Doherty, Stensland, Vincennes, White and Brownell, four for Huff. Oh shit, the P.A.'s on!"
      Stens cracked up. Frank Doherty said, "Eat shit, cocksucker." White stayed expressionless--like he was already at the honor farm