entrance exam, now clearly aspired to one day become chief.
Soon after Parker joined the chief’s staff, Davis made him an acting captain—a move that no doubt raised hackles in the department. Davis probably didn’t care. He needed Parker for something big.
IN 1933, voters had replaced Mayor Porter with county supervisor Frank Shaw. Shaw was not Harry Chandler’s kind of candidate. For one thing, although he was ostensibly a Republican, Shaw embraced the agenda of the newly elected Franklin Delano Roosevelt. For another, Shaw had gotten his start in politics as a city council member backed by Kent Parrot, with whom he maintained close (if vague) ties. Chandler’s suspicions proved to be well founded. After taking office, Frank Shaw turned to his brother Joe, recently discharged from the U.S. Navy, to help him oversee municipal affairs. Joe’s title was personal secretary; however, he soon took control of every potential patronage and profit center in the city. Not surprisingly, “The Sailor” (as Joe was known) took a particular interest in the LAPD and in the Los Angeles underworld.
During the 1920s, Kent Parrot and Charlie Crawford had controlled Los Angeles. Joe was determined to revive the old police-underworld arrangements, but this time with himself on top. Where Parrot and Crawford had sought to impose a monopoly, Shaw was willing to tolerate a variety of players—as long as they all paid up and their operations didn’t attract too much attention. Remnants of the Combination soon resurfaced. So did new players such as Jack Dragna, a Sicilian crime boss who focused primarily on traditional activities like extortion, prostitution, and bootlegging. (He also had a legitimate sideline as a banana importer and often referred to himself as a banana merchant.) There was plenty of money to go around. The
Hollywood Citizen-News
estimated that the L.A. underworld was generating roughly $2 million a month (20 percent of which went to selected policemen, politicians, and journalists).
Daily News
columnist Matt Weinstock put the figure even higher. His sources figured the Combination at its height was grossing about $50 million a year.
The key to it all was control of the police department. Joe Shaw was determined to make sure he had it. In principle, Chief Davis answered to the Police Commission. In practice, Shaw placed the police department’s most important operations under his close supervision by insisting on making Shaw campaign manager James “Sunny Jimmy” Bolger Chief Davis’s secretary. The fact that the chief’s office was located in City Hall, just around the corner from the mayor’s office (an arrangement instituted by Mayor Porter), further shortened Davis’s leash. Bill Parker’s job was to help him escape it.
IN EARLY 1937, working once more through the Fire and Police Protective League, Parker launched an effort to amend section 1999 of the city charter—this time, to extend civil service protections to the chief ofpolice. The ballot initiative Parker drafted consisted of a single sentence: “Shall proposed charter amendment No. 14-A, amending section 1999 of the Charter clarifying the civil service status of the Chief of Police, providing that he shall not be removed except for cause and after hearing before the Board of Civil Service Commissioners, be ratified?” It seemed a modest change, but its potential consequences were immense. If it passed, the position of chief of police would no longer serve at the pleasure of the Police Commission (and the mayor who appointed its members). Instead, once sworn in, the chief of police would have a “substantial property right” in his position. The chief of police could be suspended or fired only if found guilty of a specific set of publicly aired charges after a “full, fair and impartial hearing” before the city’s Board of Civil Service Commissioners. Needless to say, in a city as corrupt as Los Angeles, a full
Soon after Parker joined the chief’s staff, Davis made him an acting captain—a move that no doubt raised hackles in the department. Davis probably didn’t care. He needed Parker for something big.
IN 1933, voters had replaced Mayor Porter with county supervisor Frank Shaw. Shaw was not Harry Chandler’s kind of candidate. For one thing, although he was ostensibly a Republican, Shaw embraced the agenda of the newly elected Franklin Delano Roosevelt. For another, Shaw had gotten his start in politics as a city council member backed by Kent Parrot, with whom he maintained close (if vague) ties. Chandler’s suspicions proved to be well founded. After taking office, Frank Shaw turned to his brother Joe, recently discharged from the U.S. Navy, to help him oversee municipal affairs. Joe’s title was personal secretary; however, he soon took control of every potential patronage and profit center in the city. Not surprisingly, “The Sailor” (as Joe was known) took a particular interest in the LAPD and in the Los Angeles underworld.
During the 1920s, Kent Parrot and Charlie Crawford had controlled Los Angeles. Joe was determined to revive the old police-underworld arrangements, but this time with himself on top. Where Parrot and Crawford had sought to impose a monopoly, Shaw was willing to tolerate a variety of players—as long as they all paid up and their operations didn’t attract too much attention. Remnants of the Combination soon resurfaced. So did new players such as Jack Dragna, a Sicilian crime boss who focused primarily on traditional activities like extortion, prostitution, and bootlegging. (He also had a legitimate sideline as a banana importer and often referred to himself as a banana merchant.) There was plenty of money to go around. The
Hollywood Citizen-News
estimated that the L.A. underworld was generating roughly $2 million a month (20 percent of which went to selected policemen, politicians, and journalists).
Daily News
columnist Matt Weinstock put the figure even higher. His sources figured the Combination at its height was grossing about $50 million a year.
The key to it all was control of the police department. Joe Shaw was determined to make sure he had it. In principle, Chief Davis answered to the Police Commission. In practice, Shaw placed the police department’s most important operations under his close supervision by insisting on making Shaw campaign manager James “Sunny Jimmy” Bolger Chief Davis’s secretary. The fact that the chief’s office was located in City Hall, just around the corner from the mayor’s office (an arrangement instituted by Mayor Porter), further shortened Davis’s leash. Bill Parker’s job was to help him escape it.
IN EARLY 1937, working once more through the Fire and Police Protective League, Parker launched an effort to amend section 1999 of the city charter—this time, to extend civil service protections to the chief ofpolice. The ballot initiative Parker drafted consisted of a single sentence: “Shall proposed charter amendment No. 14-A, amending section 1999 of the Charter clarifying the civil service status of the Chief of Police, providing that he shall not be removed except for cause and after hearing before the Board of Civil Service Commissioners, be ratified?” It seemed a modest change, but its potential consequences were immense. If it passed, the position of chief of police would no longer serve at the pleasure of the Police Commission (and the mayor who appointed its members). Instead, once sworn in, the chief of police would have a “substantial property right” in his position. The chief of police could be suspended or fired only if found guilty of a specific set of publicly aired charges after a “full, fair and impartial hearing” before the city’s Board of Civil Service Commissioners. Needless to say, in a city as corrupt as Los Angeles, a full
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