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

“Yes, sir,” Parker responded, and hurried to the shop.

When Parker arrived at the store, he saw the shopkeeper through the glass of the locked door, pacing and waving his gun. The owner saw Parker, too, and yelled at him to get back. Instead of waiting for backup, Parker went up to the store and calmly knocked on the door.

“Keep out,” the owner yelled. Parker knocked again. The man with the shotgun approached the door—and started lamenting his troubles. Parker indicated that he just couldn’t hear him clearly.

“Open the door so I can hear you,” Parker called out to the man. As he did so, Parker rushed the gunman, grabbing the shotgun before the man could fire it. The gun was later found to contain five shells. Bill Parker had gotten lucky.

Later that year, he got lucky in another way. At some point in 1927, Parker met Helen Schultz, an eighteen-year-old telephone exchange girl, the daughter of an Austrian immigrant furniture maker in Philadelphia. In Helen, the twenty-two-year-old Parker (who by then was claiming to be twenty-five) found a kindred spirit. Helen was a devout Catholic, and she loved to hunt and fish. She was also smart, sassy, and, personality-wise, something of a pistol. (It would seem that Bill Parker had no brief for sedate women.) This time there would be no elopement. On May 1, 1928, an announcement of Parker and Helen’s engagement appeared in the Los Angeles Times. They were married later that year.

Happy, at least in his personal life, Parker bore down on his studies. He was now plowing through night school at the Los Angeles College of Law. In 1930, he would finally receive his law degree. Then he could leave the force and follow in his grandfather’s footsteps.

The Great Depression intervened. By 1930, Los Angeles had the highest personal bankruptcy rate in the country. Ruined investors were hurling themselves to their deaths from the Arroyo Seco Bridge in Pasadena with such frequency that the city was forced to erect elaborate antisuicide barriers. Nevertheless, Parker’s wife, Helen, assumed that he would leave the force and go to work for a law firm as soon as he completed his degree. As the date drew nearer, however, it dawned on her that her husband might actually enjoy policing more than the practice of law.

“Statements from Bill kept cropping up about ‘liking the work’ [and] ’every day there is something new,” Helen would later write. So one day she asked him point-blank: Would a law degree help you in a career with the police? He assured her that it would. And so the decision was made. Parker would remain a policeman.

PART TWO The Struggle for Authority

5

“Jewboy”

“I wasn’t the worse. Neither was I the tops.”

—Mickey Cohen

BY 1927, the Parrot-Cryer Combination seemed to have Los Angeles sewn up tight. Notwithstanding the presence of a few immigrants such as pimp-turned-bootlegger Albert Marco, the criminal underworld of Los Angeles was now a decidedly WASPy affair, one that left little room for an ambitious Jewish hoodlum like Mickey Cohen. The situation was undoubtedly a frustrating one. Mickey realized early on that “putting money together” was what gave him the most pleasure in life. He also realized that bootlegging, muscle jobs, and armed robbery offered excellent opportunities for enrichment. However, without a “fix,” criminal activities could have most unpleasant ramifications, as Mickey learned after his botched box office holdup. But in Los Angeles, the only outfit with a reliable “fix” was the Combination, and the Combination didn’t recruit talent from the east side of the Los Angeles River. Fortunately, that very year Mickey stumbled across a way out of this dead end. His talent for fighting led him to the one group that could challenge the likes of Kent Parrot, Charlie Crawford, and Guy McAfee: the Mob.

As a condition for his release from reform school, Mickey was required to meet on a weekly basis with a “Big Brother.” Mickey’s was Abe Roth, a well-known fight referee. Where others saw a thuggish street scrapper, Roth saw a talented flyweight boxer. That prizefights were illegal at the time and that Mickey was on probation was no obstacle to Roth’s plan. Roth soon had Mickey fighting four-round bouts in bootleg clubs and “smokers” around the city.