***The Life And Times Of Michael Philip Marlin, Private Investigator – The Two Knives

 

From The Pen Of Frank Jackman-with kudos to Raymond Chandler

As readers know Tyrone Fallon, the son of the late famous Southern California private operative, Michael Philip Marlin (Tyrone used his mother’s maiden name for obvious reasons), and private eye in his own right told my old friend Peter Paul Markin’s friend Joshua Lawrence Breslin some stories that his illustrious father told him. Here’s one such story although not about himself but about an operative for the largest detective agency on the West Coast, John “Stubs” Lane. (Stubs nick-named for a habit picked while sitting alone endlessly in cold cars drinking cold coffee and picking out cigarette stubs from the ashtray after his fresh deck ran out). Marlin let Stubs tell it in his own voice and I will do so here.      

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You know not all cops are on the level, in fact most of them aren’t, aren’t on the level, and maybe don’t know what being on the level entails. Every twelve year old, maybe younger knows that hard fact, or should. Most cops, aside from hating what they call private peepers, are either “on the take” to some local gangster on their beat to turn the other way when some dope deal is going down, some back alley gambling was going on as they passed by or to let some wayward hooker ply her trade in peace (no pun intended). Or they want to be on the take.

Oh yeah, there is a good cop every once in a while, a guy not on the take one way or another, a guy who is okay with working for coffee and crullers, a guy like Detective Danny Shea down in the Los Angeles Police Department, a guy that I have worked with on a few cases. But even Danny gets squirrely ever once in a while like the time he threatened to have me locked up as a material witness in the Morton case when I refused to tell him what I knew, knew confidentially, in that grisly murder case.

See I should know about cops and their easy “on the take” ways since I run up against them as an operative for the International Operations Organization and have to pay a courtesy call on them occasionally. But that coffee and cakes part is right, they work for peanuts and so maybe they don’t feel too bad about shaving the law in the interests of their pocketbooks. And just maybe they are around crime so much it rubs off, gets easy to blur the distinctions between law and the jungle. Here’s a case in point from one I worked on the sides, the official cops got all the credit for busting one their own but it was a close thing, and a murder to boot. 

Detective Johnny Ladd and Sergeant Billy Brooks had been partners for a few years, had cracked a couple of big cases, the famous Smoot kidnapping case and the Landry murder case, and so were moving up the line in the Ocean City Police Department. Both were on the take to Marty Sheen’s criminal operation but that doesn’t enter into this story, not the “on the take” part but allegiance to Marty’s part. This was strictly an independent operation on Billy Brooks’ part. He had met some dame, a looker, a real good-looker, Lana Wadsworth, a divorcee over at the Kit-Kat Club across from the 6^th Precinct Station and the favored hang-out for off-duty cops. And for women, some cops’ wives too, looking for a roll in the hay with a man in blue. That kind of thing has been going on ever since there were cops, before actually with soldiers, guys in uniforms turn some women on. But like I said that is old hat.      Well Billy went for her and she went for him, they met a few times after that first encounter, started dating, hit the satin sheets before too long and they had talked of marriage.

One night, one night after a heavy night of drinking first at the Kit-Kat then at her place where they usually wound up after such bouts Lana told him about her ex-husband, Jason Wadsworth, heir to the Peeps coffee fortune, a rich guy, real rich, and how she didn’t want a penny from him. He had offered a generous settlement, had included a house and car in the arrangement but she passed on that. She had said that things just didn’t work a while back, he was chasing another woman, had not satisfied her in bed, had different interests and she wanted it left that way. For herself she had stopped being in love with Wadsworth and like a lot of women that is the key, not the dough, and, yes, go figure. But like I said the guy was loaded, had no relatives, known relatives anyway except Lana, and that got Billy thinking, thinking about easy street, about getting away from the coffee and cakes life, the two-bit “on the take” life finally. 

Of course a cop, a police officer has access to all kinds of information: finger prints, criminal records, evidence room materials, and the like. So Billy grabbed some opium from the evidence room and had one of hi stoolies goes over to this Wadsworth guy’s house in El Segundo and plants the dope in the house, in Wadsworth’s study, after having given one of the servants, some Mex who was one of those “No Habla Ingles” guys, some cock and bull story about inspecting something in the house. Then a few days, maybe a week, later he planted an anonymous tip to his fellow officers that this Wadsworth character was selling high-grade dope to the Hollywood crowd. Then Billy went all out by saying, through one of his confidential sources, that this Wadsworth operation was protected by some high-powered weaponry in the house. Naturally

the cops, including Billy who asked personally to be in on the bust,  working under  some “eminent danger” theory went in like gang-busters. Wadsworth never knew what hit him as Billy fired point- blank at the man. Billy later said that Wadsworth threatened him with a gun, a gun that later proved to have been placed in his hand by Billy.  

After the dust had settled and after some civilians wanted to know what the hell happened when one of the leading citizens in El Segundo was shot down like a dog the Police Commissioner was forced to conduct an investigation. The long and short of it was that Detective Ladd was assigned to do the investigation. Billy figured he was in clear, was all set to grab the dough, especially when Wadsworth’s will had been left as it was when Lana and he were married. She was to get all the dough. Thing was though that Ladd saw early on that this thing stank to high heaven. Even then, even after he figured out that Billy had set the whole thing up, had done it for the big payoff he was willing to cover him if he would just leave town and stay out, go east someplace.

Billy then offered him a cut of the proceeds and he almost went for it, had in fact agreed to it when a higher up in the department learned of Billy’s role in the caper through that stoolie who set the whole thing up. More importantly Marty Sheen did not like the idea that one, or two, of his hirelings in blue were acting on their own. With the heat on in all directions Detective Ladd was forced to turn Billy in, did it with a certain relish roughing Billy up before he brought him in. Had been ready to kill him if Marty needed that kind of help.  Yeah, so the next time somebody, some rube tells you, the cops are on the level tell them the little story I just related to you, okay?