James Ellroy_Underworld U.S.A. 03 by Blood's a Rover Page B

communiqué. From: SAC Wilton J. Laird, St. Louis Office. To: Special Agent Dwight C. Holly. Marked “ Confidential 1-A: Recipient’s Eyes Only. ”
    SA Holly,
    Per Conf. 1-A memo #8506: rumors of the “FBI bugging” & “FBI-mandated hit” on Rev. M. L. King are growing in both virulence and frequency, according to informally placed sources frequenting the Grapevine Tavern.
    Respectfully,
    Wilton J. Laird, SAC, St. Louis. EYES ONLY/PLEASE DESTROY UPON READING .
    DOCUMENT INSERT : 8/1/68. FBI telex communiqué. From: SAC Marvin D. Waldrin, Las Vegas Office. To: Special Agent Dwight C. Holly. Marked: “ Confidential 1-A: Recipient’s Eyes Only .”
    SA Holly,
    Per #8518 & my 7/28/68 response, an addendum:
    A—Sources outside LVPD & CCCO are now reporting “rife” & “widespread” rumors of homicide per the death of WAYNE TEDROW SR.
    B—Confidential Bureau informants at the
Las Vegas Sun
report that the newspaper may be considering an inquiry, chiefly because of the “checkered past” of WAYNE TEDROW JR. and his alleged current involvement with JANICE LUKENS TEDROW .
    Will forward all future data per Conf. 1-A guidelines.
    Marvin D. Waldrin, SAC, Las Vegas. EYES ONLY/PLEASE DESTROY UPON READING .
    DOCUMENT INSERT : 8/3/68. Verbatim FBI telephone call transcript. Marked: “Recorded at the Director’s Request”/“ClassifiedConfidential 1-A: Director’s Eyes Only .” Speaking: Director Hoover, Special Agent Dwight C. Holly.
    JEH: Good morning, Dwight.
    DH: Good morning, Sir.
    JEH: Before you ask, the answer is yes. Expedite OPERATION BAAAAD BROTHER in the manner you described in your memo.
    DH: Thank you, Sir.
    JEH: The title possesses a sublime jungle quality. As in “That brother John Edgar Hoover, he
baaad.
”
    DH: You are
baaad
, Sir. And I might add “inimitably so.”
    JEH: You might, and you should. And, on the topic of jungle artistry, I heard a very disquieting song on the radio this morning.
    DH: Sir.
    JEH: It was called “The Tighten Up.” A Negro ensemble named Archie Bell and the Drells performed it. The song carried the air of insurrection and sex. I’m sure that white liberals will find it authentic. I told the Los Angeles SAC to open a file on Mr. Bell and to determine the identity of his Drells.
    DH: Yes, Sir.
    JEH: Enough bonhomie. Dwight, I am very disturbed by the Wayne Senior and Grapevine Tavern chatter. I’ve been reading the applicable communiqués, and I take this confluence of loose talk as both a personal insult and an affront to the Bureau. Wayne Senior was an FBI asset and James Earl Ray killed Martin Lucifer King without help from you, me, this agency, Wayne Senior, Wayne Junior, Fred Otash, the redneck sharpshooter Bob Relyea, or any other outside source. Do you understand me, Dwight?
    DH: Yes, Sir. I do.
    JEH: Make the rumors stop, Dwight.
    DH: Yes, Sir.
    JEH: Good day, Dwight.
    DH: Good day, Sir.

9
    (Miami, 8/5/68)
    C ollins Avenue was wall-to-wall elephants. They wore GOP banners and flailed their trunks in the heat. A carny crew herded them with switches.
They
wore top hats dotted with Nixon buttons. One guy fed the beasts peanuts. One guy urged gawkers to cheer.
    The noise was big. Wayne dodged sign-wavers. Nixon signs bobbed upside his face. He lugged two big steamer trunks. Nixon was at the Fontainebleau. He had to walk. He couldn’t drive. The elephant stampede shut traffic down.
    The convention had just started. It was thick-aired and 94°. The air sealed an elephant-shit aroma. Wayne’s suit wilted. Wayne’s stomach queased.
    More sign fools hit the sidewalk. Cuban chanters showed up—“
Cas-tro out! Cas-tro out! Cas-tro out now!
” They looked riot-ready. Wayne saw saps in their pockets. The Nixon chumps gave them some space.
    The Fontainebleau loomed. Two big men spotted Wayne and cut through the crowd. They wore dark suits and