Original subtitles

This is the city— Los Angeles, California.

Like any other city, there are a great many ways to make money here... or lose it.

This is one way. In the state of California, it's legal,

provided you buy a ticket of admission and place your bets here.

In California, over $600 million is wagered annually at racetracks.

All open, aboveboard and within the law.

Like any other legitimate business where great amounts of money are involved,

there are those who cut themselves in for an illegal percentage.

Sections of this volume were enacted just for them.

It all begins with a 10-cent phone call to a man who

keeps his business records on a plastic tabletop...

and who doesn't bother to enter his profit and loss in the company ledger.

Or who keeps his records on a highly volatile material known as flash paper.

A simple kitchen match is often his key to freedom.

When this happens, it becomes part of my job.

I carry a badge.

It was Monday, January 9. It was warm in Los Angeles.

We were working the day watch out of Administrative Vice Division.

The boss is Captain Harry Nelson. My partner's Bill Gannon.

My name's Friday.

Bill Gannon invited me to join him at an interdenominational breakfast...

sponsored by Police Post 38 1 of the American Legion.

It was almost over.

The story you are about to see is true.

The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Gentlemen.

Again, I want to thank our three guests...

and to say that I'm glad so many of you were able to be with us this morning.

Now I'll call on the chaplain of the Los

Angeles Police Department for the benediction.

Sergeant William Riddle. Will you all please rise?

Shall we pray?

Our Heavenly Father, we thank you this morning for one of life's great prizes,

the chance to work hard at a work worth doing.

We thank you for the words, "law, justice, freedom"...

and the opportunity we in this room have to protect their meaning.

Lord, the Psalmist has said, "Through God we shall do valiantly."

We ask that this might be true in our day-to-day battle against crime.

Dismiss us with thy blessing. Amen.

Amen.

The meeting is adjourned. Thank you all for coming.

- See? I told you you'd enjoy yourself. - It was fine.

- You oughta come to more of these, Joe. - Well, I'm not a member of the Legion.

Too bad. But you can come as my guest as often as you like.

- How often do they have this breakfast? - Once a year.

- You know, there's one thing I didn't know. - What's that?

- I didn't know the department had a chaplain. - You didn't?

No. Why?

I just didn't know, that's all. How long has he been with us?

Six, seven years now. I'm surprised you didn't know, Joe.

- What else does he do on the job? - Joe, he's the chaplain. He doesn't have to do anything else.

What else would you expect him to do? I don't know. I just wondered, that's all.

- Well, it's like I've always said. - What's that?

Joe, you're a heathen.

9:28 a.m. Bill and I returned

to the office. Captain Nelson wanted to see us.

How are you doing on the Westerfeldt book?

Looks like we've got the back office pinned down, but

we don't have probable cause for a search warrant yet.

All right. Maybe North Hollywood's found some daylight for us.

Yeah? What've they got, Skipper?

318 out in the Valley. Domino Bar and Grille.

Looks like the bartender's taking the action.

Name's Richard Clinger. No previous record. Westerfeldt's been seen in the joint.

Seems pretty friendly with Clinger. You figure operating the location?

That's right. But you'll have to sit this one out, Gannon.

You worked North Hollywood too long. Pretty good chance you'll be burned.

You continue on the Westerfeldt surveillances.

See if you can find a tie between him and that back-office clerk.

Yes, sir. Who's working it out in North Hollywood?

Yes. Send him in.

Friday, the man you'll be operating with is here now.

Friday and Gannon, Sergeant Bill Riddle.

North Hollywood Vice. Riddle's all I see out there.

Come on in, Sergeant.

Thought you gave a real nice benediction this morning, Chaplain.

Thanks. One thing I wanna make clear,

Riddle's had his share of Vice experience.

When he's not in those dress blues, he's a policeman like the rest of us.

He's made his share of cases the same as any other man in the department.

- Well, maybe there's one slight difference. - What's that?

The only time I drink is on the job.

9:40 a.m. Riddle, Gannon and I met in the squad room...

to work out plans for operating the Domino Bar and Grille.

- Sure never figured it, Chaplain. - What's that, Gannon?

Well, I mean, it's kind of unusual, isn't it?

- Maybe. But it's what I wanna do. - Is that right?

Yeah. Before we moved out here, I had my own church in upstate New York.

If you think about it, there's a certain affinity

between preaching the word of God and being a policeman.

They're both on the side of right. Makes sense.

What kind of cover will work best for you?

While I was studying theology, I worked my way through as a part-time surveyor.

That's what they know me as in the bar. That leaves

me out. I don't know anything about surveying.

You don't have to. I got enough to carry us through.

You can be the chain man. You know, the guy that holds the

rod and helps me measure while I look through the transit?

- Sounds reasonable. - Khaki pants, cloth jacket?

That's the idea. I'm pretty well accepted

in this joint. They know me as Bill Radford.

But they're still too hinky to take any of my action.

What surveying outfit do we work for?

I'm an independent contractor. You work with me.

All right. It's an off day for Santa Anita.

First post for the eastern tracks is around

10:00 our time. There's not much local action.

What do you say we throw 'em a curve and start operating tonight? Fine.

- You know, Chaplain, no matter how you slice it— - What's that?

This has gotta do Joe a world of good.

Monday, January 9, 5:30 p.m.

Bill Riddle and I checked out an unmarked station wagon from the carpool,

and we drove out to the San Fernando Valley.

The Domino Bar and Grille was located in the 2000 block on Lankershim Boulevard.

Riddle was known in the place and considered almost a regular.

He pointed out the waitress, Angie. He said she was friendly.

Riddle was on a first-name basis with Richard Clinger, the bartender.

Hiya, Bill. Rye and water? Fine.

Angie, like you to meet a buddy of mine. Joe Frazier, Angie.

How are you, Angie? Hi. Haven't seen you around for a couple of days.

Where you been hiding? Finally picked me up a chain man, Joe here.

Good deal. What'll you have, Joe? Beer's fine.

Why don't we sit at the bar, bat the breeze with Dick? Suits me.

What do you say, Bill? Got me a chain man. I'm back in business.

So Angie tells me. Glad to hear it. One draft, one rye.

Keep it. Buy a mink coat. Who's he, J.P. Morgan?

No, but he got his unemployment check today. I'll just pick up a stole.

It's too hot in California for a coat. You do that.

Kinda slow, huh? It's a little early yet.

We do pretty good late business. Is that so?

I've been thinking about getting a piano player,

but it's pretty rough to get a permit in this town.

Dick, Joe Frazier. Guy I work with. Glad to know you.

- Same here. - So you finally got an assistant on that surveying job, huh?

- Yep. - I'm happy to hear it. I hated to see all that smart going to waste.

- A little tough to get in gear when you're from out of state. - I know what you mean.

L.A.'s not the easiest place to start shaking hands quick.

- This is nowhere city as far as I'm concerned. - That so?

They leave the sidewalks out all night here, they roll up the town.

- Where are you from? - Right here, born and raised.

Been the same since I can remember. Cops keep

the lid nailed down. No action, no nothing.

I haven't been here as long as Joe, but I gotta

go along. L.A. stands for "Low on Action."

Angie's single. Checks out at 2:00 a.m.

Well, now, that's nice to know, but that's not what I had in mind.

I'm talking about a little tax-free circus money.

You gotta drive all the way down to Caliente or out to Santa Anita. Yeah?

I like to have a little something going every day. Maybe nothing big,

but a little daily recreation don't hurt anybody.

- You say you're a native here? - That's right.

- Well, then you oughta know. - Yeah?

It's against the law.

Thursday, January 12. Three days went by.

We were certain Clinger was taking action, but he wasn't taking any from us.

3:30 p.m. Bill picked us up in Unit 1K-80.

We cruised the far side of the Valley while we talked.

We've been living with Westerfeldt. So far, nothing.

Yeah? We get him up in the morning, put him to bed at night.

So far, it's the same routine. Hasn't been near

that back office. And the clerk acts like a hermit.

Stops at a different liquor store every night. They all

sell scratch sheets, but we haven't seen him buy one.

Mm-hmm. Goes to the back office and that's it.

Well, sooner or later, Westerfeldt's got to shake hands with his clerk.

We'll stay with it. How are you two doing?

Nothing so far, but Joe has a thought. Yeah?

There's a waitress in there, name's Angie. She must

know what's going on. Maybe she'll share it with us.

How do you figure to work it? Tonight Riddle and I'll hang around till closing.

Maybe I can buy her breakfast. I'll fill the Skipper in. Keep in touch.

All right. Have a good breakfast, Joe.

Riddle and I returned to the Domino Bar and Grille.

We sat in a booth until almost closing time.

1:37 a.m. Last call.

I'm fine. Angie?

- Yes? - You got any plans when you get off tonight?

- Why? - Well, I could take you to the Cocoanut Grove, but they'll be closed too.

- Well, then? - How about some breakfast?

Never before noon.

You know, you oughta take him up on it,

Angie. Joe's a nice, roundheaded, single boy.

Thanks anyway, Bill. But you can see Angie and I just aren't star-crossed.

Whatever that means. Sure you don't want another?

No, thanks.

Doesn't look too promising. Well, I don't

know. I still got 15 minutes before closing.

I'll leave you the wagon. Good luck. Right.

See you tomorrow, Bill.

♪♪

I beg your pardon, sir. May I join your party?

I'm not having any party, fella.

Do you mind if I sit down? I'm a little road weary.

When the rest of your gang gets back,

I will move over, okay?

- You're carrying quite a load, aren't you? - How do you mean, sir?

- You've had a little too much to drink. - No, sir, I have not.

I may have had one or two, but I know my "capaticy."

I do not get "drink." Now, may I buy you a little "drunk"?

No, and I don't think you can have one either. Last call's over.

Last call? ♪♪

- Why don't you let me call you a cab? - I have one cab, sir.

Well, don't you think you oughta climb in it and head for home?

Sir, I would just like to have a little toast with your party.

I will buy a round of "friends" for all of your "drinks."

I told you. There's no party here and the bar is closed.

- Why that dirty little Ernie. - What's that?

Ernie. That dirty little Ernie. He lied to me again.

He told me the Checker Bar was open till all night.

- Well, this is the Domino Bar. - The "Donimo" Bar?

Oh, that dirty little Ernie.

He didn't even tell me they changed the name of this place.

Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better.

What is that? What do you like in your coffee?

Hot. No, I mean cream, sugar?

Sugar? No. Sugar turns to alcohol.

It gets you all ground up inside and it's no good.

But thank you for your "hospitulity."

♪♪

- She the owner? - Don't you think you better drink that, mister?

The name is Simmons. Remember the name.

Jay Simmons.

- I am from Pismo Beach, sir. - Well, you're a long way from home, aren't ya? That's about 100 miles up north.

Well, I have been trying to get to Los Angeles...

for five months now to say hello...

to the old gang down here, sir.

You drink that and I'll help you into your cab.

You know, I don't drink and drive, sir.

- "Inkahol" and "gasoloon" do not mix. - That's right.

That's right.

- I love clam chowder. - Is that so?

I kept looking all over for "Pisno" Beach...

just to get a bowl of clam chowder.

I found it. I have moved my home to Pismo Beach.

I love clams. You navy? Navy.

All right, now. Don't you think it's about time you headed for home?

Angie, would you mind locking up for me tonight? Shirley's sick.

Not at all, Dick. Hope she feels better.

Thanks. Come on, fella. I'll get you a cab.

I have one cab, sir. I wish to go back to Pismo Beach.

Would you get me a cab which knows which way it is to Pismo? And tell it I'll drive.

You're not gonna do any driving. I certainly am.

I'm too drunk to walk. Come on. Let's go.

Let's you and I go out the front. We're okay, huh?

♪♪

End of the night, Joe.

Yeah, it kind of looks that way. How about a cigarette?

Gotta lock up. Yeah, I know. There's no law against smoking after 2:00 a.m. is there?

No. I guess not.

- Who's Shirley? - Who?

I heard Clinger say that Shirley was sick.

Oh. You'll have to excuse me. I'm tired. Shirley, that's Dick's daughter.

She's 10. What's the matter with her?

Something to do with her heart. I don't know exactly.

A murmur. Something like that.

- Dick's a widower, you know. - Is that so? Seems like a nice guy.

- He is. - How long you been working for him, Angie?

Oh, he doesn't own the place. Somebody by the name of Burrows up north.

I was hired by them in San Francisco. Told 'em

I wanted to come south and they put me in here.

- Close to three years now. - You must know Clinger pretty well.

Not that well, but he's been a good friend.

- That's all I meant. - Sure.

What is it, Angie? You don't think much of me, do you?

- Never bothered to rate you. - Why? All men are alike and all that?

I guess. You meet all kinds hustling drinks in a bar.

- I imagine you do. - I say you meet 'em all, but they're all alike.

- Not all. - You're different?

- It's possible. - But not probable.

- You rate Clinger pretty high. - Why shouldn't I? He's straight, he's good and he's honest.

- That about covers it. - You have that tone in your voice like you think he's not.

Well, you'd know more about that than I would. I just met him.

Dick's a good man. Takes care of his little girl.

No wife to help him. He worships that child.

He's good. If you say so.

I say so. Good night, Joe.

Tuesday, January 24, 1 1:35 a.m.

Riddle and I met again with Bill Gannon.

You do any good, Gannon? Like the pilgrims, we're making a little progress.

What do you got? Spotted Westerfeldt and his back-office clerk in a meet.

They exchanged sheets. We've gone as far as we can go. The rest is up to you.

Yeah. All we need is that phone number.

Tuesday, January 24, 12:30 p.m.

We hoped that somehow we could persuade Dick

Clinger to give us the number of the phone spot...

which would give us the probable cause to have a search

warrant issued against Westerfeldt's bookmaking operation.

It didn't look too encouraging.

How's it going, Dick? Not so hot. My little girl's sick again.

- Is that so? What's the matter with her? - She has a bad heart.

Congenital defect of the mitral valve they call it.

She's gonna have to have open-heart surgery one of these days. Sorry to hear it.

Poor little thing. She's only 10. Never complains.

Never says a word about it. She knows she has a bad heart?

Yeah. The doctor said she'd have to be told.

She has to take it real easy. No running or playing with the other kids.

Operation like that must cost a lot of money.

It sure does. I don't know where it's gonna come from.

I've got a little saved up, but not nearly enough.

I want her to have a specialist— The best.

I don't blame you. It's too bad you don't

have another job you could work part-time at.

A lot of guys in your line pick up a few extra bucks working days.

- I got a little something going on the side. - Is that right?

Maybe I play it too close to the vest. I don't know.

- What's that, Dick? - A few days ago, you two were talking about finding a little action.

- Isn't that right? - Yeah.

- You still interested? - What do you got in mind?

- You wanna get a little something down, isn't that it? - You knew that three weeks ago.

- Three weeks ago, I didn't know you. - Who's taking the action?

- You're looking at him. - What's the setup?

I double the line. Thirty, twelve and six in the first $10.

Pay up to a hundred in the daily double. All right. How do we get it in?

The clerk will answer, "Bottled in Bond." You come back "100 proof."

Give your identification. You’re Joe One for Dick. You're Bill Five for Dick.

Got it? Yeah.

Here's the phone number.

Wednesday, January 25, 4:30 p.m.

Riddle, Gannon and I reported to Captain Harry Nelson.

- Clinger told you you'd settle up with him? - Yes, sir. Once a week, Monday nights.

- How much action have you laid in so far? - A hundred and 20 in the past two days.

I'm ahead 35-60, but Riddle's down 50.

All right. First thing in the morning, Joe,

you and Riddle go over to the D.A. 's office...

and start the ball rolling on the search warrants.

We'll tentatively plan to go Saturday. Usual procedure.

Lieutenant Swenson will brief all concerned personnel around 10:30 a.m.

Radio communications coordinated through our office with standby crews...

ready to stiff any suspected phone spots after we

serve the warrants on Westerfeldt and the back office.

Gannon, you serve Westerfeldt. Bowser'll take the phone spot. Yes, sir.

- Joe, you and Riddle take the back office. - Yes, sir.

Go time 12:15. Fifteen minutes before first post.

Saturday, January 28, 1

1:47 a.m. We had obtained the search warrants.

Riddle and I drove out to the Valley.

We headed for the apartment house where the back office was located.

12:15 p.m.

Flash paper!

Stay put. Police officers. Search warrant for the premises. You're under arrest.

Here are the numbers to the fronts and the codes.

While I informed the suspect of his

constitutional rights, Riddle called Captain Nelson.

He told him that we were in and gave him the codes and numbers for the fronts.

We asked that a black-and-white unit transport the suspect downtown.

Saturday, January 28, 12:48 p.m.

Angie, do you mind hanging up my coat for me? Keep it. You'll need it.

Police officers. You're under arrest. Conspiracy to commit bookmaking.

Oh, no. All right, Clinger. I have to inform you of your constitutional rights.

Look, just a minute. I won't run out on you. I'm not going anyplace.

But can't you give me a couple of days? My kid's awful sick. Sorry.

You have the right to remain silent.

It's not as if he murdered somebody.

He broke the law. You sound like a cheap, dime novel.

Do I? Just for making a little book so he could do better for his kid.

There are other ways. That little girl of his.

You must feel real proud of yourself when you think about her.

I wish he had.

Saturday, January 28, 4:38 p.m.

Six suspects, including the head man of the bookmaking operation, Gordon Westerfeldt,

were booked for conspiracy to commit bookmaking.

Five of them were released on bail within four hours of their arrest.

A quick evaluation of records seized in the back office...

indicated that the bookmaking operation was handling in excess of $75,000 every week.

Identification was found on Clinger bearing the name Ross Clement.

A check of R&I revealed that he was wanted in Pennsylvania for forgery.

He would be held in the Central Jail, located in P.A. B., pending extradition.

Wednesday, February 1, 1 1:15 a.m. Cream and sugar?

Yeah. You just missed it. Central Jail called.

Clinger wants to talk to you and Riddle. What about?

Just said it was urgent.

2 p.m. Bill Riddle drove in from North Hollywood.

We met with Richard Clinger in one of the interview rooms at the Central Jail.

My little girl died an hour ago.

- Sorry, Clinger. - I never told her what the chances were.

It-It looked good for the first few hours after the operation.

She thought she was going to get better. They

told me she was talking about riding a horse.

She loved horses. Then she just fell asleep, and it was all over.

- We're sorry, Dick. - I-I've gotta make the arrangements somehow.

I don't know who to turn to. I thought I'd ask you.

- Sure. - I'd sure appreciate it.

- Tell us what you need. - I only got $600.

Hospital bills and doctors, it doesn't leave much.

D-Doesn't have to be anything showy, you know. Just something nice.

We'll take care of it.

You won't need a big coffin. She's a small girl.

She never had much chance to grow much.

She's got a white dress. It's hanging in the closet at home. All right.

She's got some favorite things in a little cardboard jewel box.

Will you pick out whatever you think would look nice...

and make sure they fix her hair?

But... the big problem is, you see, we never went to church.

So, I don't have a minister or anything like that.

- I understand. - I mean, a nice service.

That's the important part. Somebody who'll say the right words.

Can you find someone that can do that?

We've got somebody.

The story you have just seen is true.

The names were changed to protect the innocent.

On April 15, trial was held in Department 183,

Superior Court of the State of California,

in and for the County of Los Angeles.

In a moment, the results of that trial.

Five of the suspects were found guilty under Sections 182.5 and 337A...

of the California State Penal Code, Conspiracy and Bookmaking.

The four clerks were each fined $250 and released.

Gordon R. Westerfeldt was fined $500 and released.

In the interest of justice, the charges against Ross

Clement, also known as Richard Clinger, were dismissed.

He was, however, returned to the state of Pennsylvania to stand trial for forgery.