This time you face a much longer voyage to reach the other side of America. More than 20 full hours of flight are required to reach Los Angeles from Boston, and therefore at least a couple of intermediate stops. Frank looks more and more tired, drinking more and more coffee as the hours and the days pass, but in the end he safely leads you to your destination. You land at the Grand Central Air Terminal in Glendale, slightly north of the city itself. Frank yawns for a good five seconds as the plane comes to an halt near an hangar in the airport: "Man, I'm beat. Gonna sleep for two days. I'll rent a room near here, I'll be available at any time if you need anything. Good work, and don't get into too much trouble", he says.
A booming city in the thirties, Los Angeles has more than doubled its population in the last 10 years, and it's looking to reach 1500000 before 1940. The airport is bustling with activity, a stark contrast with the rundown airport in Savannah. You rent two cars and head for the city, shortly before midday. It's a beautiful day in Los Angeles. The clear blue sky is interrupted only by stunning rows of green palm trees. You breathe in the ocean breeze and for a moment you almost feel like you're on holiday here, absorbing the optimism of a city on the rise.
The car speeds through the large boulevards. The buildings around you are all very short, and that comes as a surprise for you, familiar with the skyscrapers of the east coast. For earthquake safety, an ordnance caps building heights within the city at 150 feets, with only one exception: the 28-storey Los Angeles City Hall. After driving for some minutes to reach the city centre, you locate a suitable hotel (the Three Palms) and take possession of three rooms, two doubles for the men and a single room for Holly. After eating a quick lunch at the hotel and resting for a couple of hours to recover from the tiring journey, you meet in the hotel hall around 4PM to decide your moves.