L.A. Noir: The Struggle for the Soul of America's Most Seductive City

The Electrician

“[W]hat’s the meaning in the underworld or the racket world when somebody’s ‘lights are to be put out?’”

—Robert Kennedy to Mickey Cohen, 1959

BY LATE 1958, Mickey Cohen was back in the rackets. His target was Los Angeles’s lucrative vending machine market. His modus operandi was pure muscle—threatening vending machine owners with bodily harm if they didn’t pay him for protection. As word spread that Cohen was back in business, old friends resurfaced, asking favors of the sort that Cohen had once dispensed so freely. Among them was Columbia Pictures boss Harry Cohn.

Cohn had the temperament of a first-class gangster. “Bullying and contemptuous” (other common descriptions include “profane,” “vulgar,” “cruel,” “rapacious,” and “philandering”), an ardent admirer of Benito Mussolini (whose office he re-created for himself on the Columbia lot and whose picture he proudly displayed even after the Second World War), Cohn delighted in the fear his presence could create.

But in 1958, Cohn had a five-foot, seven-inch, 125-pound, 37-23-37 problem that all his swaggering and bullying couldn’t resolve. Her stage name was Kim Novak. Novak was Columbia Pictures’s—and Hollywood’s—biggest star. Cohn had nurtured her career for years, grooming the young model as a successor to Rita Hayworth, purchasing the inevitable set of nude photos from a “modeling” session in the actress’s youth, and carefully protecting her image. His efforts had borne fruit. In 1957, Novak had smoldered as Frank Sinatra’s old flame in The Man with the Golden Arm. The chemistry between the two had been so hot that they’d paired up again in Pal Joey.

Novak’s sex appeal was not confined to the silver screen. Marilyn Monroe, 20th Century Fox’s screen siren, was almost a parody of the blonde bombshell. (It’s no surprise that breakthrough movies such as Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and How to Marry a Millionaire cast her in comic roles.) Novak made a different impression. The alabaster-skinned beauty with the deep-set hazel eyes, platinum silver hair, and Slavic features projected a sleepy, “come hither” sensuality. And come hither they did. Frank Sinatra and Aly Khan were among the many men linked romantically to Novak during this period. There was an undeniable glamour (and great publicity) to having Columbia’s leading lady chased by some of the most eligible men in the world. But at some point in early 1958, Novak seems to have begun a relationship that Harry Cohn had never anticipated. That relationship was with Sammy Davis Jr.

Sammy Davis Jr. was black. He was also a Broadway star, having recently completed a triumphant turn in the musical Mr. Wonderful. Davis was one of the more interesting figures of the era. He came from a venerable African American vaudeville family on his father’s side. (His mother was Puerto Rican.) In addition to his prodigious musical and dancing gifts, he was a gifted raconteur and a talented photographer. He was also Jewish, having converted after a terrible auto accident in 1954 that cost him an eye. This didn’t boost his standing much in Cohn’s eyes. The Columbia Studio mogul hated the fact that his alabaster sex goddess was involved in a romantic relationship with a one-eyed African American entertainer—so much so that he went to Manhattan mob boss Frank Costello with a request. Cohn wanted the Mob to end Davis’s relationship with Novak, using whatever means proved necessary. So Costello called Cohen (at a private number on a secure phone).

“Lookit, ya know that Harry Cohn?” Costello asked Cohen, according to Cohen’s later account of their conversation.

Mickey said that he didn’t know Cohn personally but that he knew of him.

“Well, lookit,” Costello continued. “There’s a matter come up—the guy’s all right, and he’s done some favors for us back here, and I want ya to listen to him out, to make a meet with him, make a meet with him for whatever he wants and go along with him in every way ya can.”

Soon thereafter, Cohn called Cohen to discuss what was bothering him—the Davis-Novak relationship. After several fairly circumspect conversations, Mickey finally asked Cohn point-blank what he wanted. Cohn replied that he wanted Sammy Davis Jr. “knocked in” (i.e., “rubbed out”). In Cohen’s later recounting of this story, he indignantly refused, telling Cohn, “Lookit, you’re way out of line. Not only am I going to give ya a negative answer on this, but I’m going to give ya a negative answer that you better see this doesn’t happen.”