All language subtitles for Dragnet S02E13 The Phony Police Racket.DVDRip.NonHI.cc.en

This is the city, Los
Angeles, California.

In 1877, early settlers

sent a carload of
California oranges east

and began a great
migration west.

Not many oranges
grow in the city today,

but if you have the money,

you can buy anything
from a glass of juice

to a 300-room hotel.

People sell, and people buy.

If the sellers don't give a
dollar's worth for a dollar,

the buyers find out quick,

and the seller doesn't
stay in business long.

Some sellers take
money for goods

or services they don't deliver.

When that happens, they
wind up doing business with me.

I carry a badge.

It was Thursday, November 15th.

It was hot in Los Angeles.
We were working the day watch

out of Frauds Division,
Bunko Section.

The boss is Captain Lambert.

My partner's Bill Gannon.

My name's Friday.

The Captain had just
received a phone call,

and it was easy to see he
wasn't too happy about it.

The story you are
about to see is true.

The names have been
changed to protect the innocent.

Woman I just talked to

has got a voice that
would etch glass.

She was really fuming.

Well, who's this Captain Fremont

she was talking about?

That's what you're
going to find out.

I checked personnel.

There is no Captain
Fremont in the Department.

What's she so
upset about, Skipper?

This is the third
time she's called,

since I checked in this morning.

I couldn't get a word in.

I have no idea what
the screaming's all about.

Hop out there and see if
you can straighten it out.

Name's Ethel Gower.

Yes, sir. What's
this? Little Sisters?

That's right. Gower woman
runs a bar out on South Atlantic.

Yes, sir.

Sounds more like the
command post for World War III.

We pulled out of
the police garage

and headed for South
Atlantic Boulevard.

3:17 p.m. We arrived
at Mrs. Gower's place.

What'll it be, boys?

- You're Mrs. Gower?
- That's me.

Police officers. This is Bill
Gannon. My name's Friday.

Where's Captain Fremont?

Well, that's what we'd
like to know, Mrs. Gower.

You gonna tell me there ain't
no Captain Fremont on the force?

That's right, there isn't.

Well, I should've figured

you'd be on his payroll, too.

When are you cops gonna
stop covering for him?

We're not covering for
anybody, Mrs. Gower.

We'd just like to ask
you a few questions.

Send that other
plainclothesman over.

He's the cop I want to talk to!

What other plainclothesman?

Look, I know the whole
force is in on this con,

so why don't you stop making

like you don't know
nothing about the NALE!

- The what?
- The NALE...

The con game you
cops are working.

Now, just a minute, Mrs. Gower.

We're not here to con you.
We're here to try and help you.

Help me? That's a laugh!

Help yourselves, you mean.

You're all scared to death
I'm gonna blow the whistle

on your sweet little racket,

after what I told
that desk sergeant!

What desk sergeant?

The one that booked me.
You know I'm out on bail.

Now, why don't you
tell us the whole story,

right from the beginning?

I was cheated out of my share
of the NALE courtesy treatment,

and I ain't
sittin' still for it!

I'm gonna write the
mayor, the governor,

and the attorney general!

Cops or no cops, I ain't
getti" beat out of no 35 bucks!

Who cheated you out of
that money, Mrs. Gower?

As if you didn't know.

Well, tell us who it was!

You play dumb, if you want to.

You cops is gonna sweat

by the time I get done with you.

All right, now, Mrs.
Gower, no more threats.

You registered a complaint,

and we're here
to straighten it out.

Are you gonna cooperate
with us or aren't you?

Don't lean on me, buster.
Little Sister don't scare.

We're not trying to
scare you, ma'am.

We're just trying to find
out what this is all about.

Suppose you start by telling
us how you were cheated.

How I was cheated?
Just look at me.

I was cheated
the day I was born.

Ever since the doctor
picked me up and slapped me,

I've been whacked around by men.

But me hit one guy,
and it's in the can for me.

I tell you, it ain't fair.

I even get hustled by a cop.

- Which cop?
- The plainclothes guy,

the sergeant that works
for Captain Fremont.

Well, what's this
sergeant's name?

Here, it's on all the receipts.

Sergeant Preston C. Densmore.

Well, did this man tell you
he's with the Department?

He works for Captain
Fremont at the NALE.

You know him.

We don't know Fremont, Densmore,

or this NALE thing
you keep talking about.

Here, read this and tell
me you don't know what it is.

"This certifies Ethel
Gower as a friend

"of the National Association
for Law Enforcement,

"and as a contributor to the
NALE Widows and Orphans Fund

"is entitled to all courtesy
and special privileges.

"You are hereby ordered to
extend same to this friend of NALE.

"Signed, Paul G. Fremont,

Captain, Los Angeles
Branch, NALE."

And check that address,
150 North Los Angeles Street.

That's the police
department's address,

but nobody's authorized
to issue cards like that.

You telling me it's no good?

No, ma'am, it's no good.

Then how come Axel Varney's
got the same exact card,

and it works for him?

Axel Varney?

The shoemaker next door.

I'll get him in here
to prove it to ya.

Axel didn't even take
out as big an ad as me,

and his card works like a dream,

and the first time I use
mine, I wind up in the bucket!

Well, now, what's all that

about you taking out
an ad, Mrs. Gower?

You know what one?

The NALE Magazine Sgt.
Densmore sells the ads for.

You all read it. It
comes out every month.

Is that what you gave
him the $35 for, an ad?

Sure.

"Little Sister
serves big drinks!"

You seen it, didn't you?

We've never seen the magazine.

Well, I seen it. Densmore
showed me a copy.

Every one of you
is supposed to get it.

That's what this
Densmore told you, did he?

Yeah. And for the ad,
I got a courtesy card.

Huh, some courtesy.

For shoemakers maybe,
not for lady tavern keepers.

You call me, Little Sister?

These boys are cops.

Tell them about
your NALE card, Ax?

Oh, sure! Carry it
with me at all times.

Works like a charm.

Thank you.

Before I bought that little ad

for your Widows
and Orphans Fund,

I had a lot of trouble.

What kind of
trouble, Mr. Varney?

Oh, driving to Caliente
for the races every Sunday,

I'd always get one
or two traffic tickets.

Has this card been
honored by police officers?

Oh, works like a charm!

See, what'd I tell you?

Who honored the
card, Mr. Varney?

Mexican authorities or American?

Oh, I never get no tickets
in Mexico, only here.

Since I got that card, I've
had five moving violations,

four, maybe five
parking tickets.

Did the arresting officers
extend any special privileges

when you showed them this card?

Oh, I didn't never
show it to 'em.

Well, then why do
you say it works?

Well, Sergeant Densmore,
he told me what to do.

He said, "Whenever
I get tickets,

- just tear 'em up."
- See?

How long you been
doing this, Mr. Varney?

Oh, about five months
now. Just tear 'em up.

That's the beauty
of that courtesy card.

You been contacted by the police

about those tickets?

I got a couple of letters.
Just tore them up, too.

No sweat, no trouble.

Let me give you some
advice, Mr. Varney.

What's that?

Next time you get a letter,

it'd be a good
idea to answer it.

4:35 p.m. We
returned to the office

and checked out Sergeant
Preston Densmore.

There was no record
of anyone with that name

in either the
personnel or CII files.

The NALE scam looked
like a petty scheme,

but it was injurious
to the Department,

as well as to the public.

If a police force is
to function effectively,

it must not be held in
suspicion by the community.

Well, that'll do it, Joe.

We'll have Axel Varney's
NALE card in a few hours.

- Oh, how's that?
- Had R&I check him out.

There are four misdemeanor
traffic warrants out for him already.

Yeah.

He's got a total bail
tab of over 200 bucks.

Gave all the dope

to the watch commander
at University Division.

Looks like that Gower
woman never did believe you.

Now what, Captain?

She's been calling
the Chief's office.

They say she sounds
like a nice, endearing lady.

Yeah, about as
nice and endearing

as a scream from
the dentist's office.

Look, Joe, you or
Bill work up a 15-7.

Lay out this whole bunk.

I'd like every patrolman,

every watch
commander to be alerted.

See how many of those bunk
cards are floating around town,

and under what circumstances

- the holders parted
with their money.
- Yes, sir.

How about talking to
Dan Cook, Captain?

Break some kind of
story in the papers, TV?

All right, see what he can do.

You take care of the
15-7. I'll talk to Dan, huh?

I'd like to have that
report by quitting time.

I promised Eileen I'd be
home on time tonight, Captain.

We were gonna celebrate.

- Celebrate what?
- That I got home on time.

Saturday, November
17th, 9:50 a.m.

We had Varney's
fake courtesy card

surrendered to the
arresting officers.

We also had another
victim of the bunko,

a businessman named
Wesley Hundorn.

Yes, sir, it's just like
mine, the same card.

And you say you lost yours?

Lost, misplaced.

When I saw that little
squib in this morning's paper,

it rang a bell,

and I thought I should
call on you gentlemen.

I'm a public-spirited citizen.

Well, we thank you, Mr. Hundorn.

Now, can you tell us

why you were issued
that card and by whom?

Gladly. I first got a call at
Wesley Hundorn's World.

Wesley Hundorn's World?

That's my place of
business, a travel agency.

Yes, sir.

Captain Fremont told
me if I were to advertise

in the NALE publication, I
might get all your charters.

What charters?

Charter flights.

Hawaii, Europe, tours
for NALE members.

But if there is no
such organization,

I guess that explains it.

Explains what, sir?

Why I never got any
business from you.

Yes, sir. All you
got was that card.

I never had any
intention of using the card.

I want that
understood, officers.

I don't believe in
special privileges.

When did this Captain Fremont
call on you, Mr. Hundorn?

Last July 12th.

All right, can you
describe him for us?

We never met vis-a-vis.
We spoke on the telephone.

Did you mail your check to him?

No, a sergeant came by.

Was the sergeant in uniform?

Same uniform you gentlemen wear,

an off-the-rack suit
and shiny shoes.

Sergeant Preston C. Densmore.

I have his receipt and my
canceled check right here.

It's made out to the National
Association for Law Enforcement,

endorsed by Captain
Paul G. Fremont.

Thank you.

$250.

I took a full page. Would
you like to see the ad?

You have it with you?

Yes.

- You may keep that,
if you like.
- We sure would.

Then my coming here was of
some value to you gentlemen?

- Very valuable.
- Thank you, sir.

No, no. I don't want any thanks.

As I told you, I'm a
public-spirited citizen.

But there is one
thing you might do.

Yes, sir, and what's that?

I'm afraid I over-parked.
I'm down on Main Street.

Sorry, Mr. Hundorn, we
can't do anything about that.

Oh, come now.

You can fix a
little parking ticket.

Well, now, I thought you said

you didn't believe in
special privileges, Hundorn?

I don't, but I
helped you, didn't I?

- Yes, sir.
- Doesn't one good turn
deserve another?

All right, we'll do
you a good turn.

And what's that?

We'll try to run Captain Fremont

out of Wesley Hundorn's World.

Wesley Hundorn's copy
of the NALE Magazine

provided us with a solid lead.

A line in the masthead
stated that the publication

was printed by the Cabo
Press of Los Angeles.

They were open half
days on Saturdays.

It was 10:15 a.m.

The address was a six-minute
drive from Parker Center.

Well, it's about time
some officers showed up,

but you'd better have
it in cash this time.

Cash for what, Mr. Cabo?

Well, the books.

You are from
Fremont, aren't you?

No, sir.

We're from Frauds Division,
Bunko Section, LAPD.

Oh, I thought at last Fremont
was gonna make good

and pick up the books.

- What books?
- NALE Notes,

like that magazine
you've got there.

I'm holding 1,500
copies in the back.

Well, what do you men want?

We want Captain
Fremont, Mr. Cabo.

Oh, so do I, but why
do you come to me?

Well, you printed
this, didn't you?

Yes, sir, three issues.

He paid cash for the first one,

then he gave me a
check for the second one.

Just a moment, I'll show you.

A rubber check for $750
that bounced 750 feet.

I'm still waiting for him
to make good on this

before he gets that
third issue out there.

Well, this is dated last August.

Well, Fremont said
he'd make it good,

so I went ahead and
ran off the third issue,

but he never came back for it.

Did you attempt to contact him?

A man doesn't like
to bother the police.

I know you're busy people.

Did you also print the cards?

Cards?

The NALE courtesy cards.

No, just the book, 500
copies of the first issue,

1,000, then 1,500 this last one.

Well, did you do business
with Fremont direct?

Yes, sir.

Could you describe him for us?

Oh, he's a man
about 45, 50 years,

around 6 foot tall, bald head.

He looks like a police
chief or an Army officer.

Well, isn't that him?

We don't know.
We've never seen him.

Really? He seems
to be a nice guy.

- You'd like him.
- I doubt it.

11:12 a.m.

We drove to the
West Valley address

Captain Fremont had given
Mr. Cabo as his residence,

18865 Willa Vista
Way. It was an empty lot.

Monday, November 19th, 8:50 a.m.

The weather turned
cool over the weekend.

I'd gotten a flat
tire on the way in

and had to change wheels.

Bill was at work on time.

Good afternoon, Sergeant.
Glad you could drop in.

You ever change a tire
on a freeway at rush hour?

- I'm lucky to be alive.
- Keep your coat on.

The freeway's gonna
get another crack at you.

Yeah? What's this?

A new NALE
member just called in.

9:10 a.m. Freeway
traffic was still heavy,

as we headed for the Crest
Retirement Home in Hollywood.

Mrs. Jennifer Salt was the name

of the NALE contributor
who had telephoned.

She mentioned that
she was 68 years old.

Are you Mrs. Salt?

Yes.

We're police officers, ma'am.

This is Bill Gannon.
My name's Friday.

Are you men from NALE?

No, ma'am. We're from the
Los Angeles Police Department.

You spoke to me over
the phone a little while ago.

Oh, yes. For a
moment, I had hopes.

You had hopes?

Poor Victor. I'm the
only one he has left.

- And who's that, ma'am?
- My grandson Victor.

Everyone else has
forgotten him, except me.

We write to each
other constantly.

You see, he depends upon
me, but it's so difficult for me

to accomplish anything
by myself these days.

That's why I was so pleased

to purchase an ad
in the NALE Monthly.

Do you have a copy of
the magazine, Mrs. Salt?

No, I never received it,

but periodicals do get
misplaced in the mails.

How much did your
ad cost you, ma'am?

$350 for the entire back cover.

And were you given a receipt?

Oh, yes. I have it here.

Thank you.

How did this Sgt. Preston
Densmore contact you?

I was here in the lobby

the day he came to
sell the rest home an ad.

Did the rest home buy an ad?

No, I was the only
one here who did.

Well, now, did this
Sergeant Densmore

give you a courtesy card?

Oh, yes. That was
why I purchased the ad.

I wonder if we could
see the card, ma'am.

Well, I'm sorry. You
must've misunderstood.

The card wasn't for
me. It was for Victor.

I took the ad out in his name.

Does Victor have the
card now, Mrs. Salt?

Oh, yes.

Sergeant Densmore assured me

that if Victor presented the
NALE card to the authorities,

they would extend
him extra privileges.

Well, what do you
mean, privileges?

Victor's at Chino.
He's in prison.

10:05 a.m. After
leaving Mrs. Salt,

we received a radio
communication informing us

that an Officer Reed
from Central Division

was waiting to talk to us.

The message was
that it was urgent.

We rushed back to the office.

This is Bart Emerson, Sergeant.

I pulled him over at Fifth
and Grand for running a light.

He tore up the ticket,
so I brought him in.

I feel like a fool, Sergeant.

I was told I could
tear up that ticket.

And I explained that
NALE card's no good.

How'd you get the
card, Mr. Emerson?

From Sergeant Densmore.

I took out this ad in the book.

Mr. Emerson says
he has an appointment

with this Sergeant
Densmore today.

- How's that?
- He's coming to my place

to pick up a check
for another ad.

- Yeah? What time?
- 11:00, 11:15.

Where is your place of
business, Mr. Emerson?

I subcontract a
fleet of skip loaders.

We're on that job
out at Lankershim,

and I keep a
temporary office there.

If you don't need me
anymore, Sergeant,

I'd better get back on the air.

Right. Thanks, Reed.

You know something, Sergeant?

What's that?

I feel like an idiot.

After briefing Emerson

on the procedure we
wanted to follow, he left.

30 minutes later,
dressed in soft clothes,

we drove out to his jobsite.

Bill would pose as a
construction workman

to witness the
conversation I hoped to have

with Sgt. Preston C.
Densmore when he arrived.

11:30 a.m. We'd been
waiting for the suspect

for almost an hour.

11:34 a.m. A '67 beige
Chrysler convertible

pulled up outside the
construction shack.

Our plan went into effect
as soon as he stepped inside.

Howdy, Emerson!

Hi, Sergeant.

I've got to run over the hill.

Some of my
equipment's loused up.

This is Joe Frasier
here, a friend of mine.

He'll keep you
company till I get back.

Howdy, Joe!

Joe, this is Sergeant
Densmore I was telling you about.

Oh, yeah. You're
with the L.A. police.

- Is that right?
- That's right, partner!

I'll stay by the phone, in
case that Pacoima job calls.

Yeah, tell them I'll be
over there about noon.

All right, boss.

Stick around, Sergeant.
I'll be right back.

Talk to Joe here.

He's helping with the
heavy equipment on this job.

So, you're helping with
the big stuff, huh, partner?

That's right.

Are you the officer that
gave Emerson that card?

You mean, the
NALE courtesy card.

Is that what you call it?

Yeah. I'll show you one.

That's my Department ID,
and that's the NALE card,

National Association
for Law Enforcement.

We all belong to it.

You know, I wouldn't mind
having one of those myself,

if they work the way
Emerson says they do.

The boss says they work great.

Of course they do, partner!

We in police work have reciprocal
agreements all over the nation.

Wherever you go, friends of NALE

are treated with big courtesy.

How do I go about
getting the card?

Well, just by cooperating
with our organization.

Well, how's that?

By advertising in our magazine.

NALE Notes. It's a
national periodical.

Circulated to and read by
every peace officer in the nation.

Must be a big magazine.

It's one of the advantages
of advertising, partner.

Our circulation is looking

right at a quarter
of a million a month.

You print that many, do you?

Oh, you bet ya.

The magazine is the
only source of revenue

for our Widows and Orphans Fund.

You mean, the
money from the ads.

Your ad is a contribution
to help support widows

and orphans of
all police officers

who gave their lives
in the line of duty.

Yeah, that's all right. How
much does an ad cost?

That's up to you, partner.

The smallest ad is
$20, full page is 250,

and the back cover is 350.

Well, how much
do I have to pop for

to get one of those cards?

As a friend of the police,
we measure your sincerity,

not your wallet, partner.

Just keep in mind that
all contributions to NALE

go to our widows and orphans.

Now, what should
we write you up for?

Full page?

Well, let's see, I've got
about 220 bucks on me.

Well, that's fine. There's
a discount for cash.

You get 30 bucks
off on the full page.

Now, what do you
want to say in your ad?

Oh, how about just
"Good luck from a friend"?

Well, now, that's
real nice, partner.

You are a sincere
friend of the police.

Here's your receipt.

Thank you.

Okay, what about the NALE card?

Coming right up, signed
by Captain Fremont himself.

You just fill in your own
name here on this line.

Okay.

Now the money, partner.

All right. There you go.

Thank you very much.

Police officers, Densmore.

You're under arrest for
attempted grand theft bunko.

Oh, boy! Oh, boy!

- I knew it.
- Knew what?

A bust was brewing.

Sooner or later, I
had to get clobbered.

It's our duty to advise you

that you have the
right to remain silent.

You have the right to the
presence of an attorney.

If you desire one and
cannot afford an attorney,

one will be appointed
before any questioning.

- Do you understand that?
- I've heard it before.

Do you understand it, fella?

Yeah. Now, don't
get uptight, partner.

I'm just small potatoes,

but I'll take you
to the big man,

if you treat me nice.

You know better
than that, Densmore.

Oh, all I've got's ten
percent of the action!

Give me a break.

Sure, just like you give people

with this cheap
sleazy con of yours.

It wasn't my idea!

Yeah, sure.

Now, now, listen,
boys. You treat me right,

and I can take you to
the boiler room right now.

You can toss a net on Fremont
and the whole operation.

It's his bit, not mine!

No deal, Densmore.

You're gonna settle
for one stinkin' card,

when I'm offering to stack
the whole deck for ya?

If we have to.

But if you want to
level, we'll go this far.

When you come up for sentencing,

we'll get a letter to the
judge explaining what you did,

if you'll do anything,
and if you helped.

We can't guarantee
how it'll effect his decision.

Now, that's all
we'll do, Densmore.

Clear?

As glass, partner.

12:15 p.m. We drove the suspect

to an old rundown house at
6020 North Adams Avenue

in West Los Angeles.

Densmore took us
into the living room,

where telephone solicitors
were busily at work.

Mr. Goldring, this
is Captain Fremont

of the Los Angeles Police.

No, nothing's wrong, sir,

but it'll pay you to listen
to what I have to say.

Is he Fremont?

In here, everybody's
Fremont, but that's himself.

Can just anybody walk in here?

Well, with a key, yeah.

The old hands are always
bringing in new faces.

Most phone
hustlers are floaters.

They work a few
hours and drift out.

We're too many short now.

Hey, Paul, you got a minute?

These men want on?

Yeah. Are you Fremont?

That's right, but on the horns,

you're Captain Fremont.
Ever work a boiler room before?

San Francisco, Seattle, Chicago.

- You?
- Worked with him in Frisco.

Mm, good voices, both of you.

Okay, I pay 3 bucks an hour

and 5% of all the action

Densmore closes for you.

Grab yourselves a line
and start getting rich.

- What's this?
- Prospects.

Give me a couple of
those sheets, will ya?

Before you crank up your
first one, study this pitch.

We read this.

Any objections?

No.

I get a kick out
of you drifters.

You come into an operation cold

and think you can
handle it right away.

Took me a long time
to work up that sheet,

and it's a winner, so
stick with it word-for-word

until you start
swinging with the idea.

When you think you're ready,

I'll monitor your first
couple of pitches.

Got it?

Police officers, you're
under arrest for grand theft.

All of you, cradle those phones!

Line up over here! Get
those hands behind your head!

Hold it, Mister!

Don't make me stop
you the hard way!

What do you think you're doing?

You can't bust me like this.

I'll call another unit.

Not on my phone, you don't!

Those phones cost money, boy!

Here's two bits.

Keep the change for your
Widows and Orphans Fund.

The suspects were
found guilty of grand theft.

Grand theft is punishable by
imprisonment in the county jail

for not more than one
year, or in the state prison

for not more than ten years.

The other suspects were tried

and found guilty of
impersonating police officers

and of the sale of
membership cards

in a false police organization.

The maximum penalty
for such offenses

is a fine of $1,000 or
imprisonment for one year,

or both.