2.-Per the “leaders,” some key details:

A.-EZZARD DONNELL JONES, male Negro, DOB 8/24/37. Two convictions for possession of narcotics (1957, 1961). Has a mail-order divinity degree and solicits funds at southside Los Angeles churches. JONES is the “Exalted High Commissioner” of the BTA.

B.-CORNELIUS “BENNY” BOLES, male Negro, DOB 1/11/40. One conviction for armed robbery (1964). Works as a carhop at Delores’s Drive-In in Beverly Hills. A purported homosexual and a suspect in the unsolved 1958 slaying of a male prostitute in West Los Angeles. BOLES is the “Assistant Lord High Commissioner” of the BTA.

C.-LEANDER JAMES JACKSON, male Negro, DOB 5/4/38. No discernible criminal record. Rumored to be Haiti-born and a practitioner of Haitian voodoo. Allegedly a bunco artist (selling fake magazine subscriptions, phony land deals, no-show construction contracts), a forger (welfare checks, money orders and basketball tickets), and an arms smuggler (unsubstantiated rumors of ties to violent leftist groups in the Caribbean). JACKSON is the “Armorer” of the BTA.

D.-JOSEPH TIDWELL McCARVER, male Negro, DOB 7/16/37. Alleged residential and pharmacy burglar, rumored to have committed over 100 burglaries since 1955. Inveterate gambler, with 26 arrests and no convictions for flimflam and bookmaking offenses. Runs a weekly dice game out of a black separatist church, with proceeds going to the MMLF. McCARVER is the “Pan-African Ruler” of the MMLF.

E.-JOMO KENYATTA CLARKSON, male Negro, DOB 3/4/29. No criminal record, but rumored to be a skilled, job-selective armed robber. A cartoonist and the author of the anti-white, anti-BTA hate comic books sold by the MMLF. Works as a dispatcher for the Black Cat Cab Company in South Los Angeles. Rumored to have committed numerous “politically motivated” rapes as an “expression of solidarity” for “Brother” Eldridge Cleaver of the BLACK PANTHER PARTY. CLARKSON is the “Propaganda Minister” of the MMLF.

F.-CLAUDE CANTRELL TORRANCE. male Negro, DOB 11/29/46. Numerous misdemeanor arrests: drunk driving, drunk and disorderly, petty theft, non-payment of child support, defrauding an innkeeper, vagrancy, impersonating a police officer and various gambling-related offenses. The principal player in MMLF’s Feed the Kiddies program. TORRANCE is both the “Minister of Finance” and “Minister of Extortion” for the MMLF.

3.-Known haunts of the BTA and MMLF include the dispatch hut of the BLACK CAT CAB COMPANY, originally financed by a (allegedly in arrears) loan from the Teamster Central State Pension Fund, which marks it as a criminally denned enterprise; SULTAN SAM’S B ARBER SHOP: SULTAN RAM’S SANDBOX (a cocktail lounge, Teamster loan-financed); SULTAN SAM’S PINBALL PARADISE (a game arcade/pornographic bookstore); CALVIN’S ADULT EXTRAVAGANZA (a pornographic bookstore); and the following bars and after-hour clubs: NAT’S NEST. MR. MITCH’S ANOTHER WORLD, RAE’S RUGBURN ROOM a lesbian bar owned by JOSEPH TIDWELL McCARVER’S sister RAE CHANTAY McCARVER (Teamster Fund-financed), THE SNOOTY FOX. THE SCORPIO LOUNGE. TOMMY TUCKER’S PLAYROOM and the CAROLINA PINES COFFEE SHOP on Imperial Highway. It should be prominently noted that the key BTA and MMLF personnel are rumored to have ties to THE PEOPLES’ BANK OF SOUTH LOS ANGELES, rumored to have been initially seeded by a Teamster Pension Fund loan (allegedly in arrears) and long suspected of being a money-laundering front for Negro criminals. The bank’s longtime president, LIONEL DARIUS THORNTON, male Negro, DOB 12/8/19, has no criminal record, is a noted civic booster in the Los Angeles Negro community and has long been suspected of organized-crime ties.

4.-As I detailed in my previous confidential telex, our infiltrator will be LAPP OFFICER MARSHALL E. BOWEN, a gifted impersonator with previous subversive-group penetrations financed by CLYDE DUBER ASSOCIATES. I am currently creating a scenario for OFFICER BOWEN’S cosmetically proffered expulsion from the LAPD, perhaps to be shaped by OFFICER BOWEN’S hostile relationship with SERGEANT ROBERT S. BENNETT, an LAPD Robbery Division detective much feared and despised in South Los Angeles. I have researched SERGEANT BENNETT and consider him to be the perfect foil for this scenario. I have set up a meeting with LAPD CHIEF TOM REDDIN and LOS ANGELES SAC JACK LEAHY to discuss OFFICER BOWEN’S expulsion/immersion. Along with us, they will be the only law-enforcement personnel privy to this information.

OPERATION BAAAD BROTHER now stands at on-go status. I await your comments.

Respectfully,

SA Dwight C. Holly

35

(Los Angeles, 9/13/68)

Dwight read files. A radio spritzed the news. Nixon and Humphrey grubbed for votes and seesawed poll-wise. Jimmy Ray and Sirhan Sirhan fomented in custody. Local grief: two ski-masked coons robbed a Brentwood home of cash and jewels.

The drop-front was file-full. It was file-saturated and file-fucked. He needed four more cabinets. He was file-fucked dick-deep.

He read carbons from the ATF and St. Louis PD. Confirmed anew: the “Grapevine Tavern Slaughter,” case closed. One non sequitur: that surprise victim.

Thomas Frank Narduno, forty-five years old, out of New York. The odd man there. Bug devices found on his body.

Dwight checked Narduno’s FBI file. It was sketchy. Narduno traveled in lefty circles. He was a two-time robbery suspect: Ohio and New York. No arrests, no convictions. He vibed fringe fool or Red recidivist. His Grapevine connection was superfluous now.

Relief.

He was relieved. Mr. Hoover was relieved. Mr. Hoover was still pissy underneath it. He kept rehashing Dwight’s rest cure. Silver Hill, ‘57. The old poof was three beats off now. He called it “Happy Hills, ‘58.” It didn’t matter. The old poof had a file on it-stashed, indexed and extortion-ready.

He had a file coming: Joan Rosen Klein, potential informant. Central Records was telexing it. The pages were heavily redacted. Fat ink strokes blotted names, dates and locations. Karen implied that Joan might be difficult. Forewarned is forearmed: see the file before you meet her.

Dwight yawned. His sleep was shot, his nerves were thin, nightmares revived as daytime vignettes. He raided a Bureau evidence room and copped some sedatives. They goosed his one drink a night and one pill a night only. It fucking helped.

The chief was late. Dwight schmoozed with Jack Leahy. Jack did Mr. Hoover shtick. The old girl was buying antiques with lover boy Lance. Jack was spot-on. He had the mince and the wrist action. It was risky shit. Jack was a tough read. He was half G-man, half Mort Sahl.

Dwight laughed. “Guerrilla humor. Funny shit at the Improv, risky shit at the L.A. office.”

Jack cleaned his glasses. “Twenty years and civil service. I’m snitch-proof.”

“I saw you do Hoover as Oscar Wilde when you were a rookie.”

“Then, I guess I’m just lucky.”

Dwight smiled. “Or you’ve got an agenda, or you’re just a fucking kamikaze.”

The office was cop-blah: gray walls and flags up the ying-yang. Reddin pre-announced himself with Aqua Velva fumes. He was a big guy. He slapped backs and crashed behind his desk.

“Jack, it’s been too long. Mr. Holly, I’ve been hearing about you for years.”

Jack lit a cigarette. “Dwight ‘the Enforcer’ Holly. A blunt man with a politically dubious girlfriend.”

Reddin yukked and waved faux wolfsbane. Jack winked. Dwight figured el jefe was good for five minutes.