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grief, but you didn’t.” He started to walk for the door, then turned around and added, “Why?”
Braverton said, “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
The chief of detectives sighed. “Then I’ll tell you. Only four men know exactly what happened with you last year. You and Dutch Peltz, obviously, and the big chief and myself. I’m sure you know that rumors have circulated and that some cops admire you for what you did while other cops think you should be in Camarillo for it. I love you for what you did. I’m a hard ass with most people, but I’ll take a lot of shit from the people I love.”
Lloyd ducked out the door at the chief’s last words. He didn’t want him to see that he was a half step away from tears.
*
*
*
Four hours later, Lloyd stood behind the lectern at the front of Parker Center’s main briefing room, staring out at what he estimated to be two hundred uniformed and plainclothes police personnel. Every man and woman present had been issued a manila folder upon entering the room. Each folder contained fifty copies of the Identikit portrait of the man designated and M.O.-typed as: Multiple homicide suspect, W.M., 30–35, lt. brn., eye color unknown, 5'9''–5'11'', 150–160. Drives late model yellow Japanese import; armed with .41 antique handgun. Known to frequent singles bars and use cocaine. This man is the perpetrator of the April 23 Hollywood liquor store killings. Consider him armed and extremely dangerous.”
When the last late-arriving officers took their seats, Lloyd held up a copy of the Los Angeles Times and spoke into the microphone. “Good afternoon. Please give me your complete attention. On page two of today’s Times there is an accurate report of my encounter last night with the man whose portrait you are now holding. The only reason I am alive today is because this man uses a single-action revolver. I heard him cock the hammer before he fired at me and was able to avoid his first shot. Had he been using a more practical double-action weapon, I would be dead.”
Lloyd let his eyes circuit the audience. Feeling them securely in his hand, he continued, “After exchanging fire with me, the man escaped. All the hard facts regarding him are on your Identikit pictures. The portrait, by the way, is a superb likeness—it was put together by an intelligent witness and 294
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was immediately confirmed by two others. That is our man. What I would like to add are my observations of this killer.”
He paused and watched the assembled officers study their folders and take out pens and notepads. When there was a gradual shifting of eyes to the lectern, he said, “Last week this man killed three people with clean head shots worthy of a practiced marksman. Last night he fired at me from a distance of ten feet and missed. His four subsequent rounds were wild, fired in panic. I believe that this man is psychotic and will kill until he himself is killed or captured. There must be a concerted effort to identify him. I want these portraits distributed to every officer in L.A. County and every trustworthy snitch. He uses coke and frequents singles bars, so every vice and narco officer should utilize their snitches and question their bar sources. Witnesses have said that he has mentioned ‘an incredibly smart dude’ he knows, so our suspect may have a partner. I want men strongly resembling this suspect to be carefully detained for questioning, at gunpoint. All suspects detained should be brought to the Central Division jail. I’ll be there from five o’clock on, with a legal officer and a stack of false arrest waivers. Some innocent men are going to be rousted, but that’s unavoidable. Direct all queries from police and non-police sources to me, Sergeant Lloyd Hopkins, at Central Division, extension five-one-nine.”
Lloyd let the officers catch up on their note taking, knowing that up to now their rapt attention had been on a purely professional level. Clearing his throat and tapping the microphone, he went straight for their purely personal jugulars. “I’ve given you ample reasons why the apprehension of this suspect is the number one police priority in Southern California, but I’ll go a notch better: This man is the prime suspect in the disappearance and probable murder of a Los Angeles police officer. Let’s nail the motherfucker. Good day.”
*
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*
It took Lloyd two hours to establish a command post at the Central Division jail’s booking facility. Anticipating a deluge of phone calls, he had first appropriated three unused telephones from the Robbery/Homicide clerical supply office, plugging them into empty phone jacks adjacent to the jail’s attorney room, securing an immediate hookup to the existing extension number by intimidating a series of Bell Telephone supervisors. Central Division switchboard operators were instructed to screen incoming calls and give all police and civilian calls regarding the Identitkit picture first priority in the event of tied-up lines. Any live suspects brought in were to be