Come to Los Angeles.
The sun shines bright.
The beaches are wide and inviting.
And the orange groves stretch as far as the eye can see.
There are jobs aplenty. Land is cheap.
Every workingman can have his own house.
And inside every house, a happy all-American family.
You can have all this, and who knows?
You could even be discovered...
...become a movie star, or at least see one.
Life is good in Los Angeles.
It's paradise on earth.
That's what they tell you, anyway.
Because they're selling an image.
They're selling it through movies, radio and television.
In the hit show, Badge of Honor, the L.A. cops walk on water...
...as they keep the city clean of crooks.
You'd think this place was the Garden of Eden.
But there's trouble in paradise...
...and his name is Meyer Harris Cohen, Mickey C to his fans.
Local L.A. color to the nth degree.
And his number one bodyguard...
...Johnny Stompanato.
Mickey C's the head of organized crime in these parts.
He runs dope, rackets and prostitution.
He kills a dozen people a year.
And the dapper little gent does it in style.
And every time his picture's on the front page...
...it's a black eye for the image of Los Angeles.
Because how can organized crime exist...
...in the city with the best police force in the world?
Something has to be done.
But nothing too original because this is Hollywood.
What worked for Capone would work for the Mickster.
Mr. Cohen, you're under arrest.
Non-payment of federal income tax.
But all is not well. Sending Mickey up has created a vacuum.
And it's only a matter of time...
...before someone with balls of brass tries to fill it.
Remember, dear readers...
...you heard it here first...
...off the record...
...on the q. T...
...and very...
...Hush-Hush.
You're like Santa Claus with that list.
Except everyone on it's been naughty.
Guy's been out of Q two weeks.
Leave it for later.
We got to pick up the booze and get it to the station.
Hollywood, this is 6-Adam-7.
Have Central send a prowler to 4216 Evergreen.
Parole violation: Assault arising from a family dispute.
We won't be here but they'll see him.
Quit your whining!
Quit whining all the time! It makes me sick!
Shut up!
Who the hell are you?
The ghost of Christmas past.
Dance with a man for a change?
You a smart ass?
You'll be out in a year and a half. I'll get cozy with your parole officer.
Touch her again, I'll have you violated on a kiddie-raper beef.
You know what they do to kiddie rapers in Quentin.
You got someplace you can go?
Go get yourself fixed up.
Merry Christmas.
- Merry Christmas, ma'am. - Let's go, Bud.
The guys are waiting.
What do you do on Badge of Honor?
I'm the technical advisor.
I teach Brett Chase how to walk and talk like a cop.
Brett Chase doesn't walk and talk like you.
That's because he's the television version.
America isn't ready for the real me.
Is it true you arrested Bob Mitchum?
The Badge of Honor guys like to pretend, but the real thing must be a thrill.
Why don't we go someplace quiet? I'll give you the lowdown on Mitchum.
Big V. Jack Vincennes.
- May I have this dance? - Of course.
This is Sid Hudgens, Hush-Hush magazine.
- Hello, Karen. - Hello yourself.
What that's about?
Her name was in a piece we did, Ingenue Dikes in Hollywood.
My friend just sold reefer to Matt Reynolds.
He's tripping the light fantastic with Tammy Jordan.
Sorry, I lost you for a second.
Contract players, Metro. Pinch them, I do you up a nice feature next issue.
- Plus your usual $50 cash. - I need another $50.
Two 20s for two patrolmen, a dime for the watch commander.
It's Christmas.
No, it's not.
It's felony possession of marijuana.
Actually, it's circulation 36,000 and climbing.
There's no telling where this will go. Radio, television...
Once you whet the public's appetite for the truth, the sky's the limit.
Sgt. Ed Exley, son of the legendary Preston Exley.
Must be a hard act to follow.
Why not make a mark elsewhere? Why become a cop?
I like to help people.
We heard 2 officers were assaulted this evening.
- What do you think of that? - Goes with the job.
Luckily, they're okay.
Aren't you young to be watch commander?
It's only tonight.
The married men have Christmas Eve off.
That's a good lead for the story.
Merry Christmas, Captain.
- Captain Smith. - Drop the formalities, Bobby.
- It's Christmas Eve, call me Dudley. - I got the story's title.
I'm calling it Silent Night with the LAPD.
That's grand.
Remember that's Smith with an S.
Thank you, Merry Christmas.
Hold on, lads.
Merry Christmas.
I saw the results on the lieutenant's exam.
First out of 23.
What'll it be, then? Patrol Division? Internal Affairs? What?
I was thinking Detective Bureau.
You're a political animal.
You have the eye for human weakness, but not the stomach.
You're wrong, sir.
Would you be willing to plant evidence on a suspect you knew to be guilty...
...to insure an indictment?
- Dudley, we've been over this. - Yes or no?
- Would you beat a confession out of a suspect you knew to be guilty? - No.
Would you shoot a hardened criminal in the back...
...in order to offset the chance that some lawyer...
Then for the love of God...
...don't be a detective.
Stick to assignments where you don't have to make those choices.
Dudley, I know you mean well...
...but I don't need to do it the way you did... or my father.
At least get rid of the glasses.
I can't think of a man in the Bureau who wears them.
If I ever get held up, you better be here.
Hi, Nick.
I need a delivery.
A case each of gin, rum, Scotch.
Sounds like a hell of a party. Be right with you.
Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas, Officer.
That obvious?
It's practically stamped on your forehead.
There you go.
See what he wants, Buzz.
Get lost, why don't you?
Down! Get your fucking head down.
I got a license for that.
Cut me some slack. I used to be a cop.
Leland Meeks? Never heard of you.
They call me Buzz.
I don't give a rat's ass. Keep your head down.
And stay there... Buzz.
You okay?
She's fine.
I'm not asking you.
Who hit you?
It's not what you think.
What, then?
You got the wrong idea. I'm fine.
But it's nice to know you care.
Drive safely.
What's going on?
You know him?
Yeah, I've seen him around.
He used to be a cop.
They're sitting in the dark, goofing on the Christmas tree.
Put your camera right there.
When I walk out, get the movie premiere in the background.
I like it, I like it. The Movie Premiere Pot Bust.
I don't want those goddamn floodlights of yours in my eyes.
Consider it done. You hear that, Chip?
Come on. Get down.
Go! Pop them!
Freeze! Police!
Jesus Christ!
Come on. Come on, let's go.
My family's coming...
- It'll be a nice Christmas gift. - Hi, Tammy. Hi, Matt.
Over here.
- Just turn. - Hold it. Got it!
- The Movie Premiere Pot Bust! - Take them. I'll get the evidence.
It's Christmas Eve in the City of Angels.
And while decent citizens sleep the sleep of the righteous...
...hopheads prowl for marijuana...
...not knowing that a man is coming to stop them:
Celebrity crime-stopper, Jack Vincennes.
Scourge of grasshoppers and dope fiends everywhere.
You like it?
Yeah, subtle.
What took you?
My partner stopped to help a damsel in distress.
His priorities are all screwed up.
Up to your old tricks again?
Hollywood Jack, what brings you to our humble station house?
What are you doing here?
You know, keeping the streets safe.
Get these two dressed and book them.
- The party's upstairs. - I'll be right up.
What's that for?
Aren't you watch commander tonight?
Yeah. So?
It's from Hush-Hush magazine.
Buy yourself some loafers.
No thanks, Jack. You keep your payoff.
I'm not interested.
What's this?
Six spics.
The Mexicans who assaulted Brown and Helenowski.
I hear Helenowski bled 6 pints, Brown's in a coma.
They've got bruises and muscle pulls.
It's not what I heard.
Lock them up.
Stens, you guys hear what those taco benders did to Helenowski and Brown?
Helenowski lost an eye, and they're reading Brown his last rites.
Should make for a very merry Christmas for them.
Hey, guys.
Guys.
They brought the Mexicans in.
They're downstairs.
- Let's do it. - Come on. Let's get them.
The party's upstairs.
This doesn't concern you.
Come on, guys.
You got work?
Go back.
- Come on, it's Christmas, help me out. - Move it!
I just got a few more questions.
You don't have to be here.
Go!
You better get your partner before he kills somebody.
Teach him a lesson! Get him, Stens!
This is for ours, Poncho.
Let me through!
He didn't do nothing!
What are you looking at?
- Tell that Mexican to shut up! - Move!
You're sick!
Stens!
- Come on! - Don't break it up!
Get back! Get back!
Fuck your mother!
Fuck you!
Stop! That's an order!
You're all in my report!
Bloody Christmas.
The press love to label.
This is bigger than the police board.
The grand jury's convening. Indictments may be handed down.
Will you testify?
No, sir.
District Attorney Loew?
You and Officer Stensland brought the liquor to the station.
Stensland was already drunk.
Appearing as a witness against him could offset the damage to yourself.
I won't testify against him or anyone else.
This man is a disgrace.
Your badge and gun, officer. You're suspended from duty.
Dismissed.
We need police witnesses to offset the damage done to the Department.
Justice has to be served. Of course I'll testify.
I'm glad you feel that way. Most of the men don't.
They think silence and integrity are the same.
Not exactly the image of...
...the new LAPD we're creating.
Welcome to Los Angeles, the city of the future.
- May I make a suggestion? - By all means.
The public will expect the Department to sweep this under the carpet.
Don't.
Shift the guilt to men with secure pensions.
Force them to retire.
But somebody has to swing.
So indict, try and convict Richard Stensland and Bud White.
Secure them jail time.
The message will be clear.
The new LAPD will not tolerate officers who think they're above the law.
Dick Stensland is an embarrassment as a policeman.
He's had rotten fitness reports from every C.O. he's ever served under.
But White is a valuable officer.
White's a mindless thug.
He's just a man who can say yes to the questions I asked you the other day.
The Department and the public need role models.
Clean-cut, forthright men the public can admire.
Sergeant...
...I'll promote you...
...to Lieutenant.
- Effective immediately. - Detective Lieutenant.
Ed, you're 30.
Your father didn't make lieutenant until he was 33.
I know. I also know when he made lieutenant, it was as a detective.
Before we start polishing our laurels...
...it'd look better if we had a corroborative witness.
That won't be easy to come by. The men hate a stool pigeon.
Jack Vincennes.
He hit one of the Mexicans.
A veteran like Vincennes might admit his own culpability...
...but not a fellow officer's.
Jack's the technical advisor on Badge of Honor.
He lives for it.
That's how to get to him.
I'd like you to observe, Ed.
Call Sergeant Vincennes.
Bright kid.
You may well reap the benefit...
...but are you prepared to be despised?
Yes, sir, I am.
So be it.
Sergeant, we'll get right to it.
Nine civilian witnesses identified you as hitting Ezekiel Garcia.
But we have a witness who will name names and testify that you hit back...
...after being hit.
You'll testify against 3 officers...
...who've already earned their pension, and plead ignorance about the rest.
No thanks. I'm not a snitch.
I'll guarantee a slap on the wrist, a brief suspension...
...followed by a temporary transfer from Narcotics to Vice.
Transfer out of Vice, you're back on the show.
The show?
Badge of Honor.
We need to tone down your profile for a bit.
I doubt you've ever taken a stupid breath. Don't start now.
Okay, I'll do it.
The grand jury hears...
...your testimony tomorrow. Dismissed.
And so it goes...
...Detective Lieutenant.
Ace them at the grand jury tomorrow.
Wear a smart-looking suit and ace them.
And Ed...
...Iose the glasses.
So you're the stellar witness.
I should have known. What's the Chief throwing you?
Throwing me?
What's the payoff?
You're the payoff expert. I'm just doing my duty.
Come on. You're playing an angle here, college boy...
...so you don't have to hobnob with the rank and file...
...who'll hate you for snitching.
If they make you detective, watch out.
Some Bureau guys'll burn in this and you'll be working with their friends.
What about you?
I'm snitching 3 old-timers who'll be fishing in Oregon next week.
Next to you, I'm clean...
...and smart.
Edmund J. Exley to chambers.
And remember...
...Bud White will fuck you for this if it takes the rest of his life.
Captain, what do you want?
Call me Dudley.
Dudley...
...what do you want?
Look, lad, I admire your refusal to testify...
...and your loyalty to your partner.
I admire you as a policeman...
...and your adherence to violence as a necessary adjunct to the job.
And I'm impressed with your punishment of women-beaters.
Do you hate them?
What do you want?
They're yours.
Take them.
There's no bill on me?
- 4 witnesses recanted their testimony. - Why?
They had a change of heart.
And Stensland?
Your partner's through.
Scapegoat on the Chief's orders.
A year from his pension.
- Exley? - Exley got what he wanted.
As a politician he exceeds even myself.
The Department needs smart men like Exley...
...and direct men...
...like you.
Look lad, I need you for an assignment the Chief's given me.
A duty few men are fit for...
...but you were born for.
You'd be working out of Homicide at City Hall.
Homicide?
Working cases?
Your talents lie elsewhere, Wendell.
It's a muscle job.
You'll do as I say and ask no questions. Do you follow my drift?
In Technicolor, sir.
"Meet Tony Brancato and Anthony Trombino...
...two rising lieutenants in the Mickey Cohen rackets.
With the dapper little gent in prison...
...who knows how far they'll go? The sky's the limit.
Oh, well. "
"Meet Deuce Perkins, Mickey Cohen 's narcotics lieutenant.
Could he be behind the hits?
Is he consolidating organized crime power?
I suppose not.
One thing's for sure:
2-man triggers are punching the tickets on the Mickster's muscle. "
"Meanwhile, rumor has it the LAPD...
...has set up a not-so-Welcome Wagon to dishearten the criminal element...
...from filling the void left by Mickey's absence.
When I know more, dear readers, so will you.
Off the record, on the q. T...
...and very...
...Hush-Hush. "
With Mickey Cohen in prison, Los Angeles is organized-crime-free.
The Chief wants to keep it that way.
In Cleveland, you're an organized crime associate...
...in desperate need of re-education in the ways of polite society.
I hear things.
Like those 2-men shooter teams.
They're 86ing Cohen's lieutenants.
What do you want?
We want you to go home.
Picture-book smut, men.
There's been a bunch of this found at crime scenes lately.
Quality ranges from piss-poor...
...to very well done.
Look who's back from suspension.
We're honored, Sergeant Jack.
Look at that. The Great Jerk-Off Case of 1953.
Is there someplace you'd rather be?
Yeah, working Narcotics, looking for Cohen's missing H.
Yeah, finding 25 pounds of heroin would get you plenty of ink.
You should've thought of that before Bloody Christmas.
Make a major case. It's the only way you'll get out of here.
Dismissed, gentlemen.
Go get the facts, Jack.
Just the facts.
Whatever you desire.
Hi. I'd like to get a delivery to Beverly Hills.
I don 't know you.
A friend just gave me this number and I wanted to find out if there was...
Would you grab a reverse directory and shag a name and address for me?
Crestview-2239.
Hush-Hush, off the record, on the q. T.
Sid, it's Vincennes.
Jackie, you back on narco? I need some good copy.
I have something going with Vice.
Something juicy for the Sidster?
Tracking porn. Arty, high-class stuff.
Know about Fleur-de-Lis? Slogan's Whatever you desire.
No, I've heard bupkes.
Get me some narco skinny. I want to do an all-hophead issue.
Shvartze jazz musicians and movie stars. You like it?
I'll talk to you later.
- What do you got? - The number's not assigned.
Thanks, Ginger.
A bootleg.
Take it easy.
Tough break, Stens.
We're going to miss you.
Raw deal, Stensland.
Here comes the snitch.
Sorry about that, Lieutenant.
Stay out of trouble, Bud.
I got some time. I'll buy you a drink.
Rain check. I got a hot date.
Who is she and what did you arrest her for?
It's confidential.
Like that magazine that Vincennes scams for. Hush-Hush.
I'll see you later in the week.
We'll do the town, on me.
Yeah. I'll bring my wallet just in case.
- See you tomorrow. - Hang on a minute.
I'll walk down with you.
Punk kid. Who is he trying to impress?
Yeah, I wonder.
Got himself a real career going.
Sergeant Williams, pick up, please.
Sergeant Williams?
Is there anybody up there in Homicide?
Anybody there?
Lieutenant Exley.
You've got a homicide downtown.
- The Nite Owl Coffee Shop. - I got it.
It's mine.
At least one person's dead. I stopped for coffee...
No one comes through the front door. Understand?
I want barricades both ends of the street. Make sure...
I took the call. It's my case.
You don't want it and you can't have it.
I took the call.
It's mine.
I'll make you my second-in-command.
Captain, over here, please.
The cook drew a gun and set it off. The rest died in the men's room.
We got a total of 15 spent 12-gauge Remington shotgun shells.
I'm betting 3 men, 5-shot capacity pumps, all of them emptying once.
Excuse me, we got an I.D. On one of the victims.
It's Dick Stensland.
At first, I thought she was Rita Hayworth.
Yeah, me too.
Hell of a way to avoid prison.
What happened?
Appears 3 men held up a coffee shop.
The guy at the register pulled a.38, so they killed him.
Then they killed everyone else.
Lieutenant, we're ready with that Nite Owl I.D.
Is this your daughter?
I don't know.
We know this is difficult. Take your time.
It seems like my Susan.
But my Susan was a blonde, not a redhead.
When was the last time you saw her?
Just before Christmas.
We'd fought. I didn't like her boyfriend.
Mrs. Lefferts...
...does your daughter have any distinguishing marks?
You got the wrong idea, mister. I'm fine.
She has a birthmark on her hip.
It's her.
My baby.
I'm sorry, Mrs. Lefferts.
Who's in charge of this investigation?
Captain Smith and myself. Why?
"The Nite Owl Massacre. "
Hyperbole aside...
...this is a heinous crime that requires swift resolution.
Six victims.
One of them, one of our own. Dick Stensland.
He was a Nite Owl regular, in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Robbery is the likely motive.
We have rubber glove smears on the register and forensics...
...tend toward a trio of shooters. We do have one hot lead.
Three Negro juveniles...
...were seen discharging shotguns last night in Griffith Park.
A park ranger I.D.'d them as driving a 1948-1950 Mercury coupe...
...maroon in color.
An hour ago a canvassing crew turned up a news vendor...
...who saw a maroon Merc coupe parked by the Nite Owl at 1 a.m.
DMV has come up with a registration list of Merc coupes.
48 two-man teams will shake three names apiece.
Interrogations will be led by Lt. Edmund Exley.
Enough on that!
Gentlemen, just go out and get them. Use all necessary force.
The people of Los Angeles demand it.
Dismissed.
Why not just put a bounty on them?
- Ready to roll? - You take them. I got something to do.
What if one of these names...?
Get somebody else.
I got our assignments, Big V.
If we go by this list, we'll never make this collar.
I got a guy who knows what happens south of Jefferson. He'll put us at 50-50.
What are you doing? That's the same thing that got you in trouble before.
I'll take those odds.
We got it from here.
You should bring along a photographer.
I need an address on a customer of yours. Her name is Lynn.
- That's all I got to go on? - Yeah.
You already know who I mean, so cough it up.
There's a billing address and a delivery address.
Are you Pierce Patchett?
I am.
Are you soliciting for police charities? Last time you called my office.
Go on down to the driveway. We'll talk there.
What can I do for you?
- Where were you last night? - I was here hosting a party.
Tell me about Dick Stensland.
I don't know him, Mr...?
Officer White.
You know Sue Lefferts?
You know I do. You saw me with her.
How did you find me?
Nick's Liquor. This is where Lynn Bracken's booze bills go.
Of course.
Sue Lefferts died at the Nite Owl.
I'm investigating.
Everything all right?
Fine, Phillip, thank you.
What happened to the other guy? Buzz.
Buzz Meeks no longer works for me.
Lefferts looked beat-up Christmas Eve but didn't act it. Why?
I think she'd been hit in the face with a tennis racket. She is... was...
...a big doubles fan.
You're a known associate of a woman killed in a mass murder.
- Want to go downtown to discuss it? - Is this official?
Somehow I have the feeling this is more personal with you.
All right, then...
...are you concerned about criminal matters peripheral to the murders?
- Not at the moment. - So you're not obligated to report them.
Why were Lefferts' eyes black?
I needed a Rita Hayworth to fill out my little studio.
What little studio?
Well, there's Gardner, Russell, Monroe, Turner...
Lynn Bracken is my Veronica Lake.
I use girls that look like movie stars.
Sometimes I employ a plastic surgeon.
When the work was done, that's when you saw us.
It's why her mom couldn't I.D. her.
Jesus fucking Christ.
No, Pierce Morehouse Patchett.
I sense you're on your best behavior, but that's all I'm saying.
If you persist, we'll meet with my attorney.
Would you like Lynn Bracken's address?
I got her address.
Find Susan's killer, Mr. White.
I'll give you a handsome reward.
Whatever you desire!
"Come on, I know you're not asleep."
"Are you talking to me?. What do you want?"
"My 5 bucks."
"It was the only one I had."
Right now?
Hey, dollface, tell him to leave us alone.
I understand. Okay, fine.
Oh, baby...
...bad news.
You have to go.
Go?
Something very important has come up and you have to go.
I'll make it up to you.
I will, I promise. Excuse me.
Is it the cops?
Miss Bracken...
...I'm Officer White.
I've been expecting you, just not this soon.
Pierce called. He told me what happened to Sue.
Everything all right, doll? Want me to get rid of him?
Hit the road.
Maybe I will...
...maybe I won't.
LAPD, shitbird. Get the fucking out of here or I'll have your wife come get you.