Scotty pointed to the photos. “Lest I forget.”

Crutch gulped. Scotty always loomed. He carried two.45’s and a beaver-tail sap on a thong. Bobby and Phil guzzled beer and snarfed pizza. They turned the backseat into a zoo trough. Crutch pointed to Scotty’s tie.

“You had 16’s last time.”

“Two male Negroes robbed a liquor store at 74th and Avalon. I just happened to be in the back, holding a Remington pump shotgun.”

Crutch laughed. “It’s the record, right? Fatal shootings in the line of duty?”

“That’s correct. I’m six up on my closest competitor.”

“What happened to him?”

“He was shot and killed by two male Negroes.”

“What happened to them?”

“They robbed a liquor store at Normandie and Slauson. I just happened to be in the back, holding a Remington pump shotgun.”

The air smelled like ripe cheese and sud spray. Scotty wrinkled his nose. Phil was hunkered down to nosh, legs on the pavement. His pants rode low. His ass crack was exposed. Scotty pulled him up by his waistband.

Phil went airborne. Phil got that “Save me” look that Scotty inspired. Phil came to earth feetfirst and snapped to attention. Bobby gulped and snapped to. Scotty winked at Crutch.

“I’m looking for two male Caucasians driving a powder blue ‘62 T-Bird with dark blue fender skirts. They’re clouting steak houses, they’re robbing cash receipts, they’re holding patrons hostage and forcing women to give them blow jobs. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your eyes peeled.”

Crutch said, “Physical descriptions?”

Scotty smiled. “They wore masks. The female victims described them as being ‘normally endowed.’ ”

“Endowed”-huh?-Bobby and Phil slack-jawed it. Crutch smirked. Scotty grabbed the beer and pizza debris and fobbed it off on him. A sausage morsel hit Scotty’s suit coat. Phil trembled and flicked it off.

Scotty got in his car and peeled out eastbound. Crutch eyeballed a blonde at the gas pumps.