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

“They would say that they did not want to see the city ‘opened up,’ but Parker and his ‘Gestapo’ should be controlled,” recalled Poulson. At first Poulson wholeheartedly agreed. After all, he didn’t like the LAPD’s tough tactics either. But as the weeks passed, Poulson became increasingly uncomfortable with the drift of these discussions and the people who engaged in them. Some seemed very like “the hoodlum element” that Parker and Bowron so often inveighed against. It seemed clear what these people really wanted was a commitment to replace Parker and appoint a more “friendly” Police Commission. In a hard-fought campaign, Poulson wasn’t ready to reject their support, particularly “when I wasn’t positive what they represented.” However, he did decide—“within myself”—that if elected he would run a clean city.

As the campaign proceeded, Poulson grew increasingly concerned about the unsavory characters flocking to his campaign. The fact that he found himself mingling with the likes of District Attorney Ernest Roll and his wife in such mixed company did nothing to allay his concerns. It was highly worrisome to find the county DA associating with such dubious characters. Poulson also discovered that there was an anti-Parker clique within the police department, just as Mickey Cohen had alleged. On one occasion, Gach took Poulson to the offices of a former LAPD captain who had hung out a shingle in Beverly Hills as an attorney. His specialty was defending officers (and others) against Parker’s “Gestapo” (presumably the department’s Bureau of Internal Affairs). There Gach collected a check for $1,200 for pro-Poulson newspaper advertisements and campaign work. The attorney in question (whom Poulson was surprised to see surrounded by four or five uniformed officers) informed the candidate that all he wanted was “a fair deal.” Naturally, Poulson agreed to provide that. Then he took the check and fled.

Los Angeles has a nonpartisan election system that requires mayoral candidates to win an outright majority in order to become mayor. As a result, mayoral elections are generally a two-step affair: the primary typically narrows the race to two candidates and then a runoff determines the winner. In April 1953, Poulson defeated Mayor Bowron in the primaries, winning 211,000 votes to Bowron’s 178,000. Bowron tried to put a game face on this loss, insisting that he had saved “his best ammunition for the finals.” With Screen Actors Guild president Ronald Reagan at his side, Bowron lashed out against the “the Mammon of First Street” (i.e., Norman Chandler) and “the small group of people who control a vast commercial, financial, agricultural and industrial empire.

“Norman Chandler should run for mayor himself,” Bowron asserted, before pausing to note that neither Chandler nor many of his coconspirators even lived in Los Angeles. (Chandler lived in Sierra Madre. Beebe and Hotchkis lived in San Marino.)

But even Ronald Reagan couldn’t save Fletcher Bowron. Mammon retaliated, to devastating effect. Its point of attack was Mayor Bowron’s alleged softness on communism. Its weapon was Chief William Parker.

On May 18—exactly one week before the general election—the House Subcommittee on Government Operations announced that it would be coming to Los Angeles to hold two days of hearings into how Communists had infiltrated the city’s housing authority. Democratic members of the committee protested this brazen attempt to influence the election—to no avail. Republican congressman Clare Hoffman insisted he knew nothing about local elections and pressed ahead. The hearings were broadcast on local TV. Three former employees who had refused to answer questions about their potential membership in the Communist Party on an earlier occasion were summoned to repeat the performance for the cameras. The star witness, though, was Parker. After carefully noting that he was appearing at this sensitive time only because the committee had subpoenaed him, Parker proceeded to relate how in early 1952 he had given Mayor Bowron dossiers on ten housing agency figures with radical connections, including a dossier on Frank Wilkinson. At the committee’s instruction, Parker then read the confidential dossier in its entirety. Bowron, he told the committee, had simply thrown the dossier out.

Parker’s testimony was extremely damaging to the mayor. But Congressman Poulson wasn’t exactly reveling in what looked increasingly like an approaching victory, for as the odds of an upset grew, the underworld became even more overt in its overtures. A former city councilman whom Poulson knew well, Roy Hampton, approached the candidate to offer him “an enormous campaign fund” if he would “pledge to appoint a friendly Police Commission and get rid of Parker.” Again, Poulson begged off, promising only to “investigate this situation thoroughly.”