Original subtitles

This is the city— Los Angeles, California.

This is Wilshire Boulevard.

Forty years ago, these were bean fields.

Now they call it the Miracle Mile.

This is MacArthur Park. It's on Wilshire Boulevard.

For 90 cents, you can rent a boat for a half an hour.

A lot of old people live around the park. Most of them draw pensions.

You can live pretty good in Los Angeles on a pension, if you’re careful.

When you're old, sometimes you need good medical facilities.

The city has them.

Once in a while somebody tries to take what little the old have away from them.

That's when I go to work. I carry a badge.

It was Monday, December 5. It was overcast

in Los Angeles. The paper said it might rain.

We were working the day watch out of Frauds Division, Bunco Section.

The boss is Captain Lambert. My partner's Bill Gannon.

My name's Friday.

A team of expert confidence men had moved into

the city and set up a widespread operation.

They were clever and successful. Their victims were men and women over 70.

Their take was beginning to reach the five-figure mark.

We had to try and stop 'em.

The story you are about to see is true.

The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Joe, uh, you eat out once in a while, don't you?

You know I do. Most of the time.

Mm-hmm. Now, uh, what's the most expensive item on any menu?

- Oh, I don't know. Why? - You never see this on the menu over across the street at Willie's.

- About all they serve is sandwiches. - That's just the point.

Wait'll I get my Swiss Mondaines with maybe a few Indian Mondaines thrown in.

- And I got an idea what to cross 'em with. - What are you talking about?

A fortune, Joe. A fortune right here in my hand.

What is it?

- Squab. - Huh?

- Squab. That's a baby pigeon, Joe. - I've heard.

- I doubt Carl and me can raise enough to supply the demand. - Carl?

- Wife's cousin. Carl Sawyer. - Oh. Yeah.

Carl quit his job, put everything he had into it, doing just great.

- Then he got a bad break. - Is that right?

One of his kids left the pen door open. Best

breeding stock, all of 'em— Pfft! Flew the coop.

It doesn't sound like much of a business to me, not if they all might fly away.

That's just it, Joe. A person can profit by other people's mistakes.

- Makes you think, and you come up with a better way of doing things. - Yeah.

I don't know why somebody hasn't thought of it before, and it'll work.

- What's that? - Simplest thing in the world, Joe, if you don't want 'em to fly away.

- What is? - Like I said, cross-breed 'em.

- With what? - Homing pigeons.

Friday. Gannon.

Here's one for ya. What is it, Skipper?

- Couple of Seattle tourists. - Huh?

- Those phony bank examiners they had working up there? - "Had"?

They've moved. Looks like we've got 'em. Woman

by the name of Burnside phoned in the complaint.

Seems she turned her life savings over to a man

who identified himself as a state bank examiner.

- How much did she give him? - Six thousand dollars.

Said he needed her money to help catch a

thieving teller at her neighborhood bank. Yeah?

Bank examiner told her the money would be returned to her within a week.

It's been over a week, so she called us.

This the address? Yeah. Better take a run out there right away.

- You're gonna have a little explaining to do. - How's that?

- About her money. - Yeah?

The man told her a policeman would bring it back to her.

Bill and I had been there before.

It was an old apartment house, mostly pensioners.

They get a check every 30 days from Social Security or Welfare.

Nothing very big. Just enough to keep them going from month to month.

But I know they were real bank examiners.

Mr. Gleason, I could tell how important he was over the phone.

And Mr. Montgomery had a bank examiner's badge.

He marked each bill. Real clever. Tiny marks you and I would never notice.

Why did he say he was marking the bills?

Well, so that they could put the money back in the bank,

and then whatever teller stole any of it, the little marks would give them away.

Isn't that smart? Yes, ma'am.

Could you describe this Montgomery?

Well, he wore glasses, just like yours.

I don't wear glasses, ma'am.

Oh.

Well, my eyes aren't what you'd call real good.

Yes, ma'am.

Uh, do you think you can get my money back?

Well, we can't offer much hope, ma'am. We'll certainly do our best.

Well, it's not so much for me,

but for my granddaughter, Lillian.

How's that?

I've always wanted them to have a house...

with a yard for the youngsters.

- Yes, ma'am. - I always thought...

when I was gone, the money would be enough for a good down-payment on a house...

with a real yard.

- It was going to be a surprise. - Yes, ma'am.

Sergeant, it isn't right for somebody to steal it.

No, ma'am.

Not when it was going to be yard money.

1 1:3 1 a.m.

We drove over to the Wilshire Bank where Mrs. Burnside had her account.

We talked to the manager, Harry Croft.

He remembered Mrs. Burnside's large withdrawal.

12:1 7 p.m. We drove back to the office.

The bank examiner swindle was pretty much a new wrinkle in Los Angeles.

It was a sophisticated variation of old bunco

schemes like the phony stock certificate swindles.

We put through a request to the Seattle detectives.

We asked for complete intelligence reports—

M. O. 's, mug shots, anything they might have in

their files concerning the phony bank examiners.

Thanks a lot. We sure appreciate that.

Looks like you've got another one. What do you mean?

Either one of you remember Flabella Mirada?

No, can't say that I do. No, wait a minute. That name rings a bell.

Old-time movie actress, wasn't she? That's right.

Lives at the Majestic Hotel. Yeah?

Phony bank examiners. What about 'em?

They took her for $5,500.

The Majestic is an old hotel just off Hollywood Boulevard.

Actors first began staying there in the days

of the Keystone Cops. It was fashionable.

Now they stay because the rates are right.

Besides, the desk always knows what's being filmed at the studios tomorrow...

and how many extras they'll need.

Flabella Mirada had never really been a star.

She'd had some good roles in a few minor films in the past,

but she hadn't worked for years in pictures.

Thanks, Flobelle. Can't promise they'll run 'em, but I'll do my best.

Thank you so much.

Oh, hello! I'm so glad you could come!

- Are you from the A.P.? - No, ma'am.

Never mind. I'm sure you have a wide circulation.

Now, ask me anything you want.

We're police officers, ma'am. My name's Friday. This is Bill Gannon.

How do you do, ma'am?

Oh.

I guess no one else is coming.

Uh, no one else from the press, that is.

Of course, it was very nice of you to come, but...

- Oh, you do understand? - Yes, ma'am.

You see, I've been planning a return to pictures.

Oh, but you don't want to know about that.

- You're not in the business. - No, ma'am.

Well, anyway, this young man phoned...

You can record or take pictures if you wish.

We'll just take notes. Thank you, ma'am.

Uh-huh. Just as you prefer.

Anyway, this young man phoned.

A beautiful voice.

I told him he should be an actor.

He seemed very pleased, but he said he enjoyed his work as a bank examiner.

Then he told me about these terrible thefts from the bank accounts.

When he asked me to help, how could I refuse?

Besides, the publicity would be good.

- Not that I need it, you understand. - No, ma'am.

If I were to help catch the thief, I was sure it would make the front pages.

Exactly how did he want you to help?

I was to withdraw $5,500 from my savings account.

Another bank examiner would come to my roo—uh, suite...

and mark the bills.

Then the examiner would put the money back in the bank,

and the police would wait to see which one of the tellers was pilfering the accounts.

After a week the police were to return the money to me.

- When did you withdraw the money? - A week ago yesterday.

When the police didn't come yesterday or this morning, I...

realized I'd been swindled.

Why did you wait all this time before you reported it, ma'am?

Both bank examiners cautioned me not to say a word. It would alert the thief.

Could you give us a description of the man you turned your money over to?

Oh, sort of average. Polite.

Do you remember what color hair he had?

Sort of medium. I don't pay much attention to these things.

- Would you recognize him if you saw him again? - I think so.

Yes, I think so. I'm not very good at describing

people, but I remember them real well.

Yes, ma'am.

The studios will read about this, won't they?

Well, I wouldn't know, ma'am.

That's up to the press.

I—I guess it was a busy day.

No one came but that photographer and you.

Yes, ma'am.

About my return to pictures...

- I have to now. - Is that so?

That was all the money I had in the world.

I'm sorry, ma'am.

Miss Mirada? Yes, sir?

Would it be too much trouble to ask you for your autograph? It would be a pleasure.

Who do I make this to?

Gannon's my name. Just your first name.

Bill. To Bill.

Thank you very much. Thank you.

I didn't know you collected autographs.

I don't.

Wednesday, December 7, 9:43 a.m.

It was beyond doubt now that the phony bank examiners had a well-organized operation.

Several bank managers had called to report

their depositors had received phone calls...

from men claiming to be bank examiners.

We checked each one of them out, but they led nowhere.

Five more victims. Look at this, Joe.

$43,500.

That's their take so far.

Couple of old friends. Seattle sent these.

Coming-out mugs of Frank Thomas and James

Fremont. Did time for G. T. bunco at Walla Walla.

Seattle thinks they worked the bank examiner

scam there up until last month and moved on.

- Ever work L.A. before? - Johnson and I busted 'em eight years ago.

They were working the coin-smack then. Doing pretty good till we nailed 'em.

Yeah, well, they're doing all right now— over 43,000 so far.

At the rate they're scoring, they'll drop the bank

examiner game in a couple more days and move on.

Couple more days, they can open their own bank.

10:34 a.m.

Bill and I drove out to the apartment house where Mrs. Mary Burnside lived.

We showed her the mug shots of the two suspects— Frank Thomas and James Fremont.

Now, just take your time, Mrs. Burnside.

- Sergeant? - Yes, ma'am?

I've got to tell you the truth. What's that?

These pictures— Yes, ma'am?

I can't see them.

They all look the same.

Thank you, ma'am.

1 1:15 a.m.

Bill and I returned to the office and went

upstairs to the Scientific Investigation Division.

We spoke to Lieutenant John Bigham, commander of the photo section.

We had an idea, and we hoped it would work.

You figured all your victims have bad eyesight?

Most of them are old. Maybe it'll help.

How 'bout eyeglasses? Well, the Burnside woman, for instance.

She told us according to her doctor, her eyes are too far gone.

The other witnesses too. They're pretty well up in their years.

I don't know why not.

It's never been done before, but it might work.

About, uh, this size? Say, 8-by-10?

That should do it, John. You'll blow up a dozen or so strange ones to work with 'em?

Yeah. Rotten shame, isn't it?

- Couple of punks working all these old parties for their last dime. - Sure is.

Average bunco schemes, I really can't work up too much sympathy for the victims.

- They figure they can turn a quick buck, get something for nothing. - Yeah.

But these crumbs, making the old-timers believe they're helping to catch a thief.

You get us those blowups, John, and maybe they will.

3:37 p.m. Lieutenant

Bigham rushed the enlarged mug shots through.

The bank examiners were busy too.

Three more victims had reported losses since morning.

Their total take up to now stood at $49, 700.

The latest victim was Fred Gregory. He was 82 years old.

He reported losing $800.

It was the smallest loss so far.

His landlord said we'd find him on a bench by the lake at MacArthur Park.

He'd be the one wearing a green cap.

We showed him the book of enlarged mug shots.

There. There he is.

Montgomery, he called himself. He took my money.

You're sure? Positive.

That's Montgomery. But he seemed like such a nice man.

He had a badge.

He said the police would bring it back to me in a week.

- And you don't have it, do you? - No, sir, we don't.

- The money's gone, isn't it? - I'm afraid so, sir.

I sure don't want to be in a jar.

Beg pardon?

If you haven't any money when you die, the city has to take you. They cremate you.

- The ashes they put in one of those jars. - Yes, sir.

The $800, that was my burial money.

4:15 p.m.

Mrs. Mary Burnside was shown the book of enlarged mug shots.

She identified Frank Albert Thomas as the man who had taken her money.

5:07 p.m. We showed the book of mug shots to Flabella Mirada.

She also identified Frank Albert Thomas...

as the man who posed as a bank examiner and took her savings.

Bill and I returned to the office. We filled Captain Lambert in.

-35 p.m.

I'm afraid of it.

None of the victims can eyeball Fremont, and the

ones who made Thomas are shaky, to say the least.

That's the way we figured too.

We've gotta watch one of these things go down. Yeah.

All right. Put 'em on a job.

Thursday, December 8, 9:48 a.m.

It was decided that the best way to make a

strong case against the phony bank examiners...

was to put them on a job,

to catch them in the process ofan actual swindle.

To accomplish this, we had to contact a potential victim...

who might work with us before turning over any money to them.

So far, victims had only been calling us after they'd been bilked.

Under the direction of Chief of Detectives Tom Reddin,

a warning was sent out to all newspapers, radio and television stations,

cautioning everyone to be on the lookout for the bank examiners.

Monday, December 12.

The press had given the phony bank examiner story full coverage,

but we still hadn't gotten the break we needed.

We knew it wouldn't be long before the bank

examiners would be moving on to a new city...

and a new set of victims.

9:38 a.m.

Bunco. Gannon.

Yes, ma'am, I see.

Mrs. Pauline Gray, 1210 Primrose Avenue,

Apartment 6.

Thank you. We'll be right over.

No, ma'am. Please don't do anything till we get there.

You got anything? Bank examiners called this Mrs. Gray just a few minutes ago.

- She'd read the papers, so she stalled. - Yeah?

They're gonna call her back in 30 minutes.

It took us 12 minutes to

drive over to the Primrose A venue address...

that Mrs. Gray had given us.

This is what I told him.

I said, "I am expecting a very important long-distance call,

and can you call me back?"

I've heard about this caper before. I read a lot of detective magazines.

Yes, ma'am.

These boys have just put a little twist to that

old Mexican charity switch. That's it, isn't it?

No, ma'am. All right, here's what we'd like you to do.

- The cover? - I beg your pardon.

You know, the cover-up. The blind. The cover story.

Yes, ma'am, that's the idea.

When this man calls back, he's gonna ask you to

draw some money out of the bank from your account.

You tell him you'll do it. Right, Sergeant. Will comply.

Tell him your son is visiting you today, your son that lives in Arcadia.

- Tell him your son will make the withdrawal for you. - Neat and tidy.

Why don't I go to the bank myself?

Well, say your arthritis is bothering you.

Good deal. Don't worry, Officers.

- We'll pull it off A-okay. - Yes, ma'am.

- You know, this is something I've always wanted to see. - What's that?

- Especially these two hoods. - Ma'am?

I've always wanted to be in on a pinch.

Two hours went by, and no call from the bank examiners.

Mrs. Gray appeared to be calm and collected.

While we waited, she read passages aloud

from the latest monthly detective magazines.

12:19 p.m.

1:47 p.m.

A man who identified himself as a state bank

examiner told Mrs. Gray his name was Gleason.

She handled it well.

Gleason asked her to have the money ready in an hour. She told him she would.

I see.

Then you'll mark my $3,500 and put it back into the bank,

and we'll catch that teller who's been dipping into the accounts.

That's very clever.

Yes.

Oh, I'm only too happy to help.

All right. Good-bye.

- How'd I do? - Just fine, Mrs. Gray.

There's just one thing we didn't think of.

Oh? What's that?

I don't have a son.

You do now, ma'am.

2:15 p.m.

We called the office and told Captain

Lambert we would need $3,500 in marked bills.

We also asked him to have another team stake

out Mrs. Gray's apartment house to back us up.

2:48 p.m.

Policewoman Marjorie A dams delivered the marked bills...

and took Mrs. Gray to an unoccupied apartment in the building.

Bill and I didn't have a long wait. It was exactly 3:05 p.m.

Special Agent Montgomery, State Banking Commission.

Come right in.

It's a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Montgomery.

I'm Bill Gray. Well, it's a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Gray.

- Is your mother here? - Oh, she forgot to tell you.

When they get to be her age they do forget things.

She knows I always take her to the doctor every Monday.

- But I have some money she told me to give you. - Fine.

- The banking commission surely appreciates your help. - Happy to do it.

- You do have identification from the banking commission. - Yes, of course.

My examiner's certificate and my ledger.

Well, that's fine.

- Now if I could have the money? - It's all right here.

- But, uh, where's Mr. Gleason? - Gleason?

Yes. My mother said she talked to a Mr. Gleason. I'm to give the money to him.

Oh, of course. Gleason's my associate. We work as a team.

I'm sorry. That's what she insisted on. I'm

to turn the money over to Mr. Gleason only.

I see.

All right. I'll go get him.

Think they're hinky? Well, if they are, the boys out front'll pick 'em up.

How'd I sound? Do you think I sold him? If they both show up, we'll know.

Hope we don't get this close just to watch it fade. Yeah.

Mr. Gray, this is Special Agent Gleason. Mr. Gleason.

You're Mrs. Gray's son. That's right.

I sincerely hope your mother isn't ill. Oh, nothing like that.

As I told Mr. Montgomery, Monday's her regular checkup day.

I see. Bless her heart.

I understand she wanted me to pick up the

money in person. I appreciate her confidence.

May I have it? Yes, sir. Right here. $3,500.

Thank you. Do you mind if I sit here? I have to mark these bills.

Certainly. Thank you.

That sure is interesting how you people do that.

What do those little marks mean?

Sorry. We can't tell you. That's classified information.

- Classified? - Top secret.

Oh. I see.

Say, as long as you've got your pen out, I wonder if you'd sign this receipt.

Why, sure.

Mr. Montgomery too?

Monty?

Agent Gleason and I are always cautioning citizens like

yourself to be extremely careful in matters like this.

Your mother's a very smart woman, Mr. Gray. Thank you.

Besides, it helps us up in Sacramento.

That so? Oh, yes.

Our chief agent is a real stickler on money matters like this,

you know, where we're utilizing other people's funds.

I can understand that.

Mr. Gleason? Yes?

That's such a large amount of money.

Mr. Montgomery showed me his identification.

I wonder if I might see yours.

Here's my badge. We both carry them.

So do we. You're under arrest.

The story you have just seen is true.

The names were changed to protect the innocent.

On March 14, trial was held in Department 182,

Superior Court of the State of California,

in and for the County of Los Angeles.

In a moment, the results of that trial.

Both suspects were found guilty on three counts of conspiracy...

and three counts of grand theft.