Free The Quality of the Informant by Gerald Petievich Page A

lead very different lives, but I respect her more than anyone I know. She had the courage to come out ... to be honest." Carr turned and headed toward the door. He opened it.
    "Do you remember the phony series E bonds that were cashed in the banks along Wilshire Boulevard five years ago?" said the woman.
    Carr stepped back in and turned to face her. "Three grand's worth in every bank from downtown Los Angeles to Santa Monica. I remember the case well."
    The woman tapped her chest. "Me," she said. "I can tell you now because the statute has run out and I can't be prosecuted."
    "It was one of the best bond capers I've ever seen," Carr said. "Four agents spent weeks working on it. All we came up with was a vague description of a woman."
    "I wore different wigs," she said. "Paul LaMonica was waiting in the car for me outside each bank. I ended up with nothing more than a few bucks out of the deal. There were too many people that had to be pieced off. Hell, at the time LaMonica was supplying my smack habit and that's all I really cared about. It was right after that caper that I got busted for marks and ended up doing a year in Frontera . I did a lot of thinking when I was in. For the first time in my life I admitted to my true sexuality. For the first time I realized that all of life is based on sex. Admitting my true nature solved virtually all of my problems. For once, I could accept myself. After I was released I kept completely away from the old crowd. I began living a new life. That's why I named this place the New Life Gallery."
    "Have you seen LaMonica in the past few months?" Carr said.
    "He stops by once in a while when he's out of the joint. He always wants me to do some phony paper for him, and I always shine him on."
    "Any idea where I could find him?" Carr said.
    "What did he do?"
    "Escaped from Terminal Island."
    "I'm sure you're already aware that all the paper pushers hang out at the Castaways Lounge in Hollywood," she said.
    Carr nodded. "I've checked. He's not around there."
    "Then I don't know what to tell you. But please, don't come around here anymore. My clientele is frightened of police types. This is more than just an art gallery. To my sisters and me, this is a shrine to women. The art here is a declaration of sexual truth. As a matter of fact, I believe that not being honest with oneself is the root cause of drug addiction. I know that my own problem disappeared as soon as I came out." She plucked a bread-dough plaque of buttocks and breasts off the wall and dusted it on her dress. She re-hung it. "It's been a long journey for me, but I've finally arrived. If you people would have knocked on my door a few years ago, I would have jumped through any available window. I was involved in so many crimes that when I was questioned by the cops I had to be told which crime they were talking about in order to confess." She shook her head and smiled.
    "Did LaMonica phone you a couple of days ago?" Carr said.
    "Who told you that?"
    "What did he want?"
    "As usual he wanted me to do a deal with him. He offered me half of the action, said all I had to do was play a part. I assumed it was some kind of a con scheme."
    "Did he give you any details?"
    "Paul LaMonica doesn't give details. With him, everything is on a need-to-know basis. Had I agreed to come in, he would have waited until the last minute to fill me in on the details, names, and places. He believes in high security. That's all I'm going to say."
    "Thanks." Carr turned toward the door.
    "Is your sister really one of us?" she asked.
    Carr nodded. "Yes," he said in a tone of sincerity. "And I am very proud of her." He walked out the door. Kelly followed.
    The agents climbed in the G-car. Kelly got behind the wheel and started the engine. "I say, lez -be-on-our-way," Kelly said. He laughed uproariously. " My twin sister in San Francisco!" He laughed again and Carr joined in. Kelly caught his breath. "I almost had a heart attack trying not to crack up in there! You