Four
We came down at International Airport in Los Angeles. I checked through customs and then went over to another building and booked myself, as John Milo, on the first flight to San Francisco. When I arrived there, I took a taxi to a little hotel called the Bay Palace. It was not far from the Chinese section. It wasn’t quite as fancy as the name implied, but it was still a good hotel. I registered as John Milo.
I was carrying quite a bit of money by this time, some of it in traveler’s checks. I went to one of the large banks in the center of the city and cashed these. I used part of the money to open a checking account in the bank and kept the rest of it on me in large bills. Then I went to a public phone booth and put in a call to a bar in Hollywood.
“Is Big Joe Larson there?” I aske
