This is a work of fiction, using characters from the film, “LA Confidential". No insult or invasion of privacy or infringement of copyright is intended. The story is for readers over the age of 18 only, and contains adult language. The writer is not responsible for any "discomfort" caused to the reader by this language and these situations.
Shadows
©2007 by: C4C
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Early the next morning, three very tired people gathered around Ed's desk. Ed had turned the heat on in the office as soon as he arrived, but the room was still cold and Lynn, even though she was wearing her warmest coat, was shivering. Both men were worried about her.
"I'll make some coffee," Ed offered. "Joy's not here, yet."
"Why would she be?" asked Bud. "She's not a part of this."
"Bud, she's going to have to be. If we're going to keep this under wraps--I'm going to need some help."
"I don't want anybody knowing he's connected to me," Bud fumed. "There's no way my kid is gonna be saddled with--"
"--nobody's going to know. I trust her, Bud. There's no reason for you not to, either."
Bud stole a glance at Lynn; she nodded.
"Fine," he said, shortly. "Let's get on with it--"
"All right. First, we're going to need a physical description. I already talked to Harris. He'll do the drawing, he's the best in the department." He leaned towards Bud. "Don't worry, I didn't mention any names. Just that this was top priority."
Bud nodded.
"Will your Aunt cooperate?"
"I don't see why not," Bud replied. "She was the one who told me he was still around. That's why she came, she said. To warn me--that he was coming after me. In the worst way, possible. You know what I mean?"
Ed knew.
"That's not going to happen," he vowed. "I want you two to get that out of your heads, right now." He looked at Lynn. ''You believe me, right, Lynn? That bastard isn't getting within a mile of you. I don't want you to worry."
"Why would I worry?" she replied, with as much false bravery as she could muster. "With you and Bud watching out for me? It's him who should be worried."
"Damn right," Ed muttered. "Okay. I sent a team over to the hotel where your Aunt was staying. They dusted the room and brought it back to the lab. Ray will get on it, first thing this morning."
"Good," Bud muttered.
"Next thing. Bud, you get down to records and see if there's anything, anything at all that we have on him--"
"There isn't."
"How do you know there isn't. You haven't checked--"
"Yes I have. I've been checking for years. The case on--on my mother's death--'' He could barely choke the words out. Lynn squeezed his hand. "--it got closed. Years ago. There hasn't been anything on him, since."
There was a beat of silence.
"So," Ed murmured, "you've been looking for him. All this time."
"Maybe not recently," Bud admitted. "Not since Lynn and I got hitched. I had better things to think about, then." He managed a hint of a smile towards his wife. "But I'm telling you, Ed, the bastard's been good at covering his tracks."
"Well, you won't mind if I have a look, myself?"
"No. Knock yourself out."
"Thank you, Ed," Lynn said, softly.
"Don't thank me. That's my job. Your job," he said, directing himself back to Bud, "is to keep her safe. That's all. I'll handle everything. Don't let her be alone for a minute. You know what he's capable of."
"We talked about it, last night. We both know."
For a moment, they all stared at each other bleakly.
"I'll get that coffee," Ed said, awkwardly.
"None for me, thanks, Lynn said softly. "Are we done?"
"One more thing. The sketch. We need it, now. Do you think your Aunt's up to it?"
Bud stood up. "Dunno. Guess we'll find out when we get to the hospital."
"Wait a minute, Bud, I'm not sure that's such a good idea--"
"What do you mean, you just said--"
"I mean, I don't think you should take Lynn with you. If you want to keep this--connection--quiet."
Bud stopped in his tracks; it was plain he hadn't thought of that angle.
"Maybe you're right," he said, doubtfully. "But I have to do it. I don't think she'll talk to anybody else."
Ed nodded. "Of course."
"Can she stay here? I'll come right back and pick her up when I'm done."
"Sure. Of course."
"Will you two please stop talking about me like I'm not here," Lynn snapped. "Bud, I have to come with you, you need me--"
"I'll be fine. Ed's right. We have to be careful." Before she could say another word, he kissed her and was out the door.
She seemed to be sleeping. He sat down quietly, regarding her with a mixture of sadness and fury.
The swelling had spread to the other eye and the dark purple circles stood out in stark contrast to the pallor of her skin. The split lip had been cleaned up but was also puffy and he could see her chest shuddering from each painful breath.
Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and placed a gentle hand over hers. She woke up then, and looked at him.
"Sorry to wake you," he said, gently.
"Is--is something wrong?" she whispered, clearly alarmed. "It's so early--"
"I know. But I need a favor."
Wanda blinked her swollen eyes, trying to focus.
"Did you hear me," he urged, "I need to find him. And I need your help."
"That's good," she breathed. "That's good. I'm glad you believed me."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because I know--I know you don't trust me."
"That has nothing to do with it. Now, about that favor--"
"What is it?"
"A description. We need a description of--of him. Captain Exley, you remember meeting him last night?"
"Vaguely."
"Yeah, well, He's arranged for a sketch artist. He'll come in and he'll draw what you tell him. Understand?"
"A little." She studied Bud for a minute. "You don't--you don't remember him, at all?"
"I was a kid," Bud muttered, "how would I know what he looks like, now?"
"Just think older. And meaner. But I'll help--whatever you want me to do."
"Can you be ready in an hour?"
"Yes. The sooner you catch him, the sooner you'll both be safe."
"One more thing," Bud said, "just answer the questions. Don't mention my--connection," the last word he spat out.
"I understand."
"No, I don't think you do."
Throughout the interrogation, Bud managed to maintain a stoic and professional expression, but, as the probing questions produced detail after detail and the pieces came together, his jaw clenched tighter and tighter and a vein in his forehead began to throb. His eyes narrowed and grew dark as the ghost of Wendell White, Sr. gradually sprang to visual life.
The charcoal drawing could convey certain colors but Wanda had described his eyes as pale blue--almost gray--and cold....
'Gray.' Suddenly he remembered Scarlet saying that. 'Oh, Jesus.'
"Is this what you needed, Lieutenant,'' Harris asked.
Bud didn't hear him.
"Lieutenant?"
Bud abruptly snatched the document and showed it to Wanda.
"What about it. That him?"
Wanda strained her one good eye to look at it.
"Yes. Very close. You're very good, young man." She managed a smile at the young policeman.
"Thank you, ma'am--"
"--get this back to the station," Bud interrupted brusquely. "I want copies. Stat."
"Yes sir," said Harris. And was gone.
Wanda sighed and settled back in the bed; Bud stood there, still in shock at the very possibility that--
He stopped. Pulled himself together. Wanda couldn't know about this. Not until he was sure. He heard himself saying, "You okay? Want me to get the nurse?"
"I'm fine. I just need some sleep."
"Yeah.''
"I have to make a call. You need anything--let me know."
"You always were a good boy, Wendell--I mean, Bud."
"I'll be in touch," he replied, tersely, and was gone.
Joy had not been surprised to find Lynn at the office, but worried at how exhausted she looked. The two had spent a few minutes together but now she was back at her desk when Bud hurried through the door and started to go into Ed's office.
"He's not here, Lieutenant."
"What do you mean, I told him to wait for me!"
"He said he had urgent business to take care of," Joy said, cool and unruffled as usual.
"And where the hell is Lynn?"
"In your office. Where you left her," she replied, pointedly. "And she looks exhausted. What's she doing here, anyway?"
"I don't have time to explain. Just tell Ed to call me. We'll be at home."
Down in the lab, Ed studied the prints. They showed a whole set of finger pads with no actual prints and half a palm print with a rather peculiar scar. Apparently, the prints had been burned off with some sort of chemical substance... Suddenly he remembered the Velvet Glove prints. There were three sets. One belonged to Rocco Ferro, the snitch and petty criminal associated with Scarlet. The second was from Steve Garcia, who had a record a mile long. And the third... he studied them again.
There was no doubt. The person at the Velvet Glove and the person who had assaulted Wanda White was one in the same.
'Oh, shit,' he thought. 'Shit, shit, shit.'
Bud walked into the house, Lynn following him and flopped heavily on the couch.
"Should I make coffee?" she asked, wearily.
He shook his head. He felt so torn. Everything inside him was screaming to do something, anything, but he knew he couldn't let Lynn alone and he had to talk to Ed before he did another damn thing. Truth be told, though, he was so stunned and stricken by his recent discovery, he could barely move.
Lynn saw the shape he was in and thought she knew why. "Kick off your shoes," she said softly. She sat down beside him. "Put your head in my lap. Relax--"
He resisted. "I--I have to wait for Ed to call."
"He will. Meanwhile, let me take care of you."
"I should be taking care of you."
"We take care of each other. Relax."
He finally relented, stretching on the couch and burying his face in the folds of her skirt. She caressed his rigid neck and tight shoulders. His arms went around her waist like he would never let her go. She thought he had finally gone to sleep when she heard him.
"He took my mother. The only person who ever gave a damn about me. He made me afraid--all my life--to let anybody get near me--all my life. But then I met you. And you loved me. No matter how much I fought it. And now--there's this." He placed his hand on the barely discernable swell of her belly.
That was a mouthful for Bud; she thought he was finished. But then he held her even tighter and spoke again.
"It took me a long time to realize--there wasn't anything I could have done. I was just a kid. But now he's back and he wants to do it again. Take away everything I have. I won't let it happen. I'll kill him, this time. I swear it."
That scared her most of all and she wanted to talk to him but there would be time for that. For now, she simply held him before he relaxed into sleep.
TBC
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