"Ellroy, James - My Dark Places" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ellroy James)

They circled back to the Desert Inn. Jim Bruton was there-- hitting patrons up with questions. Lawton and Hallinen grabbed him and ran down Margie Trawick's story.
They had more workable information now. They tablehopped and laid it out all over the room. They got a bite straight off.
Somebody thought the drunk sounded like a clown named Mike Whittaker. He did construction work and had a flop in South San Gabriel.
Bruton went out to his car and radio-patched a query to the California State Department of Motor Vehicles. He got a quick positive:
Michael John Whittaker, white male, DOB 1/1/34. 5'10", 185 pounds, brown hair, blue eyes. 2759 South Gladys Street, South San Gabriel.


The address was a run-down rooming house. The owner was a Mexican woman named Inez Rodriguez.
Hallinen, Lawton and Bruton badged her at the door. They said they were looking for Mike Whittaker--as a possible homicide suspect.
The woman said Mike didn't come home last night. He might have come and gone during the day--she didn't know. He was quite a big drinker. Most of the time he hung out at the Melody, over on Garvey Boulevard.
Their "murder suspect" line spooked Inez Rodriguez.
Hallinen, Lawton and Bruton drove to the Melody Room. A man matching Mike Whittaker's description was sitting at the bar.
They surrounded him and badged him. The man said he was Michael Whittaker.
Hallinen said they had some questions--pertaining to his whereabouts last night. Lawton and Bruton frisked him and manhandled him out to the car.
Whittaker played the roust submissive.
They drove him to the El Monte Station. They hustled him to an interview room and got up in his face.
Whittaker smelled. He was jittery and half-drunk.
He copped to being at the Desert Inn last night. He said he was looking for cooze. He was pretty blitzed last night, so he might not remember things too good.
Tell us what you _do_ remember, Michael.
He remembered going to the bar. He remembered asking a girl to dance and getting brushed off. He remembered crashing a table party. The party consisted of a redhead, another girl and an Italian-type guy. He didn't know their names and he'd never seen them before.
Lawton told him the redhead got murdered. Whittaker seemed genuinely shocked.
He said he danced with the redhead and the other girl. He hit the redhead up for a Sunday-night date. She nixed it and said something about her kid coming back from a weekend with his father. The Italian-type guy was dancing with the redhead, too. He was a good dancer. He _might_ have said his name was Tommy--but I don't remember too good.
Tell us what you _do_ remember, Michael.
Michael remembered that he fell off his chair. Michael remembered that he outstayed his welcome at the table. Michael remembered the three people bugging out of the joint together to be rid of him.
He stayed at the bar and got more blitzed. He walked to Stan's Drive-In for a late-night snack. A Sheriff's prowl team rousted him a few blocks up Valley Boulevard. They popped him for plain drunk and drove him to the Temple City Station.
The drunk tank there was packed. The cops drove him to the Hall of Justice Jail and booked him in. Some beaners stole his shoes and socks while he was sleeping.
The tank deputy kicked him loose in the morning. He walked back to South San Gabriel barefoot--maybe 12 miles. The day was a scorcher. The pavement chewed up his feet and gave him big red blisters. He went by his room and grabbed some money and a pair of shoes and socks. He walked to the Melody and hunkered down to drink.
Bruton left the room and called the Temple City Sheriff's Office. A deputy confirmed Whittaker's story: the man was in custody from 12:30 a.m. on. He was alibied up for the victim's probable time of death.
Bruton walked back to the interview room and laid out the news. Whittaker was thrilled. He said, Can I go home now?
Bruton told him he'd have to submit a formal statement within 48 hours. Whittaker agreed. Jack Lawton apologized for the heavy treatment and offered him a lift to his rooming house.
Whittaker accepted. Lawton drove him to his place and dropped him off at the curb.
His landlady had dumped his belongings out on the front lawn. The front door was latched and bolted.
She didn't want no fucking murder suspects under her roof.
It was 2:30 a.m., Monday, June 23, 1958. The Jean Ellroy job--Sheriff's Homicide File #Z-483-362--was now 16 hours old.


2

The San Gabriel Valley was the rat's ass of Los Angeles County--a 30-mile stretch of contiguous hick towns due east of L.A. proper.
The San Gabriel Mountains formed the northern border. The Puente-Montebello Hills closed the valley in on the south. Muddy riverbeds and railroad tracks cut through the middle.
The eastern edge was ambiguously defined. When the view improved, you knew you were out of the valley.
The San Gabriel Valley was flat and box-shaped. The mountain flank trapped in smog. The individual towns--Alhambra, Industry, Bassett, La Puente, Covina, West Covina, Baldwin Park, El Monte, Temple City, Rosemead, San Gabriel, South San Gabriel, Irwindale, Duarte--bled together with nothing but Kiwanis Club signs to distinguish them.
The San Gabriel Valley was hot and humid. Wicked winds kicked dust off the northern foothills. Packed-dirt sidewalks and gravel-pit debris made your eyes sting.
Valley land was cheap. The flat topography was ideal for grid housing and potential freeway construction. The more remote the area, the more land your money got you. You could hunt coons a few blocks off the local main drag and nobody would give you any grief. You could fence in your yard and raise chickens and goats for slaughter. You could let your toddlers run down the block in their shit-stained diapers.
The San Gabriel Valley was White Trash Heaven.


Spanish explorers discovered the valley in 1769. They wiped out the indigenous Indian population and established a mission near the Pomona Freeway--Rosemead Boulevard juncture. La Misiєn del Santo Arcсngel San Gabriel de los Temblores predated the first L.A. settlement by ten years.
Mexican marauders took over the valley in 1822. They kicked out the Spaniards and appropriated their mission land. The United States and Mexico fought a brief war in '46. The Mexicans lost and had to fork over California, Nevada, Arizona, Utah and New Mexico.
The White Man got business going. The San Gabriel Valley enjoyed a long agriculture boom. Confederate sympathizers moved west after the Civil War and bought a lot of valley land.