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: KC

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Revenge," Ed asked.  "What do you mean by that?"

''I think you need to understand some things, first.  I have to go back a ways--"

"It's all right, Miss White, take your time," he said, with a tone that belied his words.

"You see--I hadn't seen my brother in years and that was fine with me.  He was always a selfish, cruel child.  My parents never knew what to do with him and he made their lives and mine miserable.  When he left home, after High School, I hoped I'd never see him again."

"What about Bud?  "Did you know what had happened to him?"

"I had no idea he existed," she said.  "Until one day two officers came to my door and told me what had happened.  Of course, I was shocked--I had no idea Wendell had married and had a family and I certainly didn't know what Wendell had done until they told me.  I was horrified!"  She shivered at the memory.

"Go on."

"Of course, I took him in.  But it wasn't easy.  He was so quiet, so hurt.  At first, the nightmares were constant.   I could never comfort him, he wouldn't let me touch him.  But--as time went by, he seemed to settle in.  He went to school and did all right, got decent grades.  But he never made any friends, never got close to anyone--especially me.  He… he seemed to resent me.  I didn't understand that until--until--"

"Take it easy, Miss White, said Joy, gently.  ''Just tell us what happened."

“It was--I don't know--months later--almost a year--and then one day, he just showed up at my door."

"Who," Ed asked sharply, "your brother?"

Wanda nodded.

"Why didn't you call the police?  You knew what he had done--"

"I knew.  And he knew how to keep me quiet."

"What do you mean?"

"It turned out--it was--it was his plan all along.  To use his son to get to me.  That's why he didn't kill him."

Ed and Joy looked at each other.

"He'd been watching us--all that time," she continued.  "He knew where Wendell went to school, he knew my routine, and he said, if I didn't stay quiet and make sure his son did too, he'd kidnap him and I'd never see him again."

"Well, what about Wendell?" asked Ed.  "How did you know what he'd do--especially when he got older?"

"I didn't," Wanda shrugged, "but I told him--my brother--that the boy didn't remember much--that the doctors, the psychologists said he had something called 'traumatic amnesia' and that he'd probably never remember enough that would help the authorities."

"Did he believe you?"

"I don't know."  She started to tremble.  "He just grabbed me with those mangled hands and said I'd better be sure things stayed that way.  And he left.  I thought the worst was over.  I thought I was keeping my nephew safe.  But--but, I didn't know."  Tears filled her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

She sighed, painfully.  "That I had lost my nephew.  Lost him for good."  She paused.  ''It turned out, he was just on his way home from school when he saw the car pull away.  He saw just a glimpse of his father.  When he walked into the house, he confronted me.  He said I must have known, all along.  And that I was protecting him.  And he told me, he said, when he got some money, he was going to leave and he'd never see me again.  He was as good as his word."

~*~

"Bud," Lynn said, as they drove to the precinct.  "Can we make just one stop?"

"For what?" Bud asked, "Are you hungry or something?"

"No, I want to stop at the shop.  See how things are going, talk to the girls--"

"Now?"

"Yes, now.  It's the end of the month.  I need to get the books, look at the records--"

"C'mon, we have more important things to do--"

"This is important,'' she exclaimed.  "It's important to me!  If I don't have something to do while I'm sitting in that damn office of yours, I'm going to go nuts!"

Bud didn't reply; he knew better.  Instead, he stopped at the intersection, circled around the block and headed back in the opposite direction.

Lynn was a bit dismayed to see how quiet things were.

"We think ladies are just afraid, right now," said Mamie.

Louise nodded.  "Ever since those killings started--nobody wants to go out if they don't have to."

"Yes," said Lynn, looking at Bud.  "My husband, here--he won't let me out of his sight."

"So," Bud said, "it's been quiet?  Nothing unusual around here?"

"Not really," said Louise, "except--" she stopped, following Lynn's look at an empty spot at the rack in front of the window.  "Oh, so you see!"

"I sure do."  To Bud's surprise, she smiled.  "Someone finally bought it.  When?"

The girls giggled.  "Just this morning."

"Details, details," Lynn urged.  "Was she young, old?"

"What are you ladies talking about?" Bud asked.

"Oh, I bought this rather hot item several weeks ago," Lynn laughed.  "Not quite the usual style our customers go for, but just thought I'd take the chance.  The girls didn't think anybody would buy it, we even bet on it, didn't we?  I won!"  She grinned, triumphantly but Louise grinned right back at her.

"Not really, Mrs. White."

"What do you mean?"

"None of our customers bought it.  It was a man."

"A man?"  Bud went ramrod stiff.  "What did he look like?  Tell me!"

"Bud, you're scaring her," Lynn warned.

Bud whipped a photograph from his jacket pocket and showed it to her.  "Was it him?"

Louise and Mamie, who were indeed frightened by Bud's suddenly fierce demeanor,  both studied it, frantically.

"Well?"

"It might have been," said Mamie, "I'm not sure."

Bud glanced at the window, frustrated.

"Tell me about the dress.  What color was it?"

"It was red," Lynn said, quietly, “a scarlet red cocktail dress."

At that, Bud grabbed her hand and led her into her small office.

"Bud, what is--"

"You have to close this place down, Lynn.  Right now!"

~*~

Ed and Joy conferred out in the empty waiting room while a nurse attended to Wanda.

"Maybe we should leave,'' he said, "let her get some rest."

"I just have a couple more questions," Ed muttered.  "I'm so close--so close--"

"Well, I have a question.  What did she mean by 'mangled hands?'  Do you know?"

"I know," Ed said.  "It's the way I found out it was him."  He looked around to be sure no one was listening and said, "Joy.  This serial killer we've been looking for--it's Wendell White.  Bud's father."

Joy's mouth dropped open.

"I had Wanda's hotel room dusted," he continued.  "They couldn't find a single finger print.  That's how I knew it was him."

"What do you mean?"

"Because we got the same result from the last crime scene.  He did what a lot of criminals do: used acid to burn his finger tips so he couldn't be traced."

"What?"  Joy looked horrified.

At her discomfort, he joked, "Hey, you wanted to play policeman.  Shall I go on?"

She swallowed.  "Yes."

"This time, he slipped up.  Because I knew it this time, he'd been in Wanda's place.  The very fact that there was no physical trace proved it."

At that point, the nurse came out into the waiting room.

"I'm sorry, Officer.  Miss White fell asleep while I was taking her blood pressure.  You're going to have to come back, later."

On the way back to the station, Joy was eager to talk about all that had transpired but didn't want to interrupt his train of thought.  She could see the wheels turning behind Ed's eyes.  She was learning to read him like a book.  When he was "on the scent" his whole demeanor changed radically: his jaw became set in a particular way, his brow furrowed and a little vein pulsed at his temple right near the arm of his glasses.

"Mind if I turn on the radio?" she whispered, softly.

"Be my guest."

She did so and immediately started humming with the commercial: "You'll wonder where the yellow went/when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent!"

Ed started to chuckle and she was pleased.  Then, a record played.

"Do you like this song?"

Ed listened to the words of "Love Me Tender."

"I just saw this new singer on the Ed Sullivan Show.  Elvis Something.  Did you see it?"

He shook his head.

"Must have missed it."  His voice grew distant and she could tell she had lost him again; she concentrated on the song.  When it was finished, she took another chance.

"What else did you want to ask Wanda?"

"Hmm?"  They pulled up to a stoplight.

"So?  Are you going to tell me or do I have to beat it out of you?"

"You were great in there," he said, suddenly.  “Really great, thanks.  I couldn't have gotten her to talk, the way you did."

"I learned everything at my father's knee," she said, brightly.

"Well, I like the feel of your knee."  His hand rested on her leg; she blushed and snuggled against him as they drove to the station.  Just as he opened the door to let her out he bent down and kissed her quickly but forcefully; she returned it, enthusiastically.

"When this is over," he whispered, "I'd like to take you away somewhere.  Any place you'd like."

"How about my apartment  Tonight?  Dinner, included?"

"Deal," he answered back.

As they walked into the precinct, he asked, "so you like this Elvis guy?"

"Oh, yes.  I've never seen anyone quite like him before.  Do you like the way he sings?"

"He's all right," he shrugged, "but he's no Pat Boone."

Their laughter was suddenly interrupted by the sight of two very unwelcome faces.

~*~

Bud was sitting in Joy's chair, pretending to read through paperwork with one hand while his fingers beat on the desk restlessly with the other.  He jumped to his feet as Joy walked in.

"What happened?  What'd she say?"

She tried to stall him.  "Hi, Lieutenant, where's Lynn?"

"She's lying down in my office.  What happened?"

"I'd--I'd rather have Ed tell you."  She put her purse down on the desk.

"Well where the h-- where is he?"

"He--ah--got waylaid by the D.A.  And the mayor.  They pulled him into a meeting."

Bud started towards the door.  "Well, I'm pulling him out."

"Wait a minute--did something happen?"

He whirled around.  "Yeah, something happened.  And I don't have any time to lose.  Are you going to talk to me, or what?"

She glanced at the door, uneasily.  The last thing Ed had said to her before he disappeared behind closed doors was, ''stall him.''  She could think of only one way.

"All right. Let me sit down for a minute and catch my breath.  I need a cup of coffee, how about you?"

He knew what she was doing but reluctantly went along with it.  "Yeah.  I'll be in Exley's office, we can talk there."

"What about Lynn, don't you want her to hear this?"

"She's heard enough, today," he said abruptly.  "Hurry it up, will you?"

Joy felt her face turning red; she turned abruptly and went into the coffee room and thinking to herself: under any other circumstances, she could learn to completely dislike Bud White.

"It's sort of a long story," she said, as Bud perched on the edge of Ed's desk and listened.  "She talked about you when you were a boy--"

"I don't have time for that.  What'd she say about my father?"

"Who's telling this, you or I, Lieutenant?" she snapped.  At the frustrated look on his face she said, "okay, I'll try to hurry this along.”

She continued, as quickly as she could.  When she described how Wendell had threatened Wanda, she could see, beyond the impassive almost frozen expression on Bud's face, a small vein starting to throb at his temple.  She forgot her earlier irritation and felt sorry for him.

"He threatened her?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

She nodded.

"He's been watching me, all this time, all my life," he muttered, almost to himself, "but why, damn it, why?"

"I think that's what Ed was getting to, when we were interrupted," Joy said, gently.  "We meant to go back, but--she fell asleep on us."

Bud nodded, barely listening.  Then, he said, "I'm going back to the hospital.  Watch out for Lynn, will you?"  Before she could answer, he was out the door.

Chapter Fourteen

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