All language subtitles for Dragnet S02E21 The Big Clan.DVDRip.NonHI.cc.en

This is the city, Los
Angeles, California.

The people living
and working here

represent almost every
culture common to civilized man.

Most of them contribute
something worthwhile

to the community.

There are those who
take more than they give.

They feed on the
sorrows, ignorance,

and superstitions of others.

When they do, I go to work.

I carry a badge.

It was Tuesday, May 11th.
It was warm in Los Angeles.

We were working the day watch

out of Frauds Division,
Bunko Section.

The boss is Captain Lambert.

My partner's Bill Gannon.

My name's Friday.

The story you are
about to see is true.

The names have been
changed to protect the innocent.

Well, how'd it go?

Convicted on all counts.

Sentencing is set for
the 10th of next month.

You know, Cap,
it's hard to figure.

- What's that, Gannon?
- The way they keep trying.

Last month, this Paul Norman
tried to juice Lt. Arabian.

Month before, that character
from Fraud that tried.

They just won't learn.

You mean, they won't believe.

They really think
every cop, prosecutor,

or judge has a price.

They've tried it here six
times in the last ten months,

and they've been
busted or run out of town

by their own people.

Well, we all know the reason.

The entire gypsy community
is still in a state of flux

since that king of
theirs died last January.

Quite a few, like Norman, have
proclaimed themselves king,

but can't convince their people

they're powerful enough
to hold the position,

and their kind of power is
to convince the fortunetellers

they have good
contacts with the courts,

with the prosecutors, or police.

And in the gypsy culture,

they have to show proof of
these kinds of connections,

or at least make the fortunetellers
believe they have them.

Joe and I have been
going to their weddings,

funerals, and pomanas,

reading everything we
can on gypsy culture.

I've got a note here to call a
Dallas Andrews in San Francisco.

Says to see you first.

Yeah, she called this morning,

wanted to talk to
Gypsy Crime Team.

Said she can supply
information on gypsy bunkos,

wanted you to call her back.

Sounds like another
one, doesn't it?

That's how they
start: play informant.

And at the same time
try to make you theirs.

I called Dallas Andrews
in San Francisco.

She indicated that she
had valuable information

regarding gypsy criminal
activity in Los Angeles.

She said she was flying
down to Los Angeles

the next day and wanted to meet.

We set it at the Canyon
Restaurant in Hollywood.

Wednesday, May 12th, 12:30 p.m.

Bill and I met Dallas
Andrews, as arranged.

Prior to the meeting, we
checked her through CII

and found a record
dating back to 1939,

when she received a
60-day sentence for vagrancy.

Since then, she'd been
arrested for everything

from operating a
business without a license

to grand theft bunko.

All arrests were
in San Francisco.

A check with the San
Francisco Police Department

revealed that she
owned and operated

a fortunetelling parlor
on Powell Street.

She had been in business
there for the past five years

and was currently the subject
of a grand theft investigation

by the San Francisco
Bunko Squad.

She wasn't shy.

She got right to the point.

- It's my son-in-law Billy.
- Billy Catcher.

His father called himself
King of the Gypsies, didn't he?

That's right, Wesley
Catcher, but he's dead now,

and it's Billy's right
to take his place.

You help Billy,
and he helps you.

You got the picture?

Not quite; paint a little more.

Now, don't be
naive. It's this simple.

Billy collects rent
from the readers,

but they have to think
he's taken care of.

- Interested?
- In what?

Money and stature.

You two look like
the best cops in town.

Billy controls the number
of fortuneteller locations

and keeps outsiders
from coming in,

and you take credit for keeping
the readers under control.

Now, look, we don't care
how many gypsies hit town.

They commit a
town, we arrest them.

- It's that simple.
- That simple?

Oh, come on, Friday.

How many gypsy bunkos do
you have in your unsolved file?

You mean, if we recognize
Billy Catcher as king,

any time we get a complaint,

you turn the reader
over for prosecution?

I mean, any time you get
a beef, just let Billy know.

- He takes care of it
from there.
- Keep going.

If the reader gets a
customer complaint,

Billy gets the money
back from the reader

and turns it over to you.

Then you satisfy the customer.

The customer's usually happy
to get half their money back.

The rest goes in your pocket.

Looks like a two-way street.

If some of the readers
are holding out,

Catcher finds out from us
when we get a complaint, right?

That's right.

Billy finds out who's
not kicking in on rent

and gives them a fine,

along with getting the
customer's money back.

How many locations
paying rent to Catcher now?

Only six.

The Samson brothers have
58 paying like slot machines.

- What's their gig?
- Samsons?

Well, they got
most of their readers

believing they have
the courts wrapped up

- and tied with a ribbon.
- How do they manage that?

It's that lousy $25
fine for fortunetelling.

Why, that's no deterrent.

The readers just
chalk it up to the juice

that the Samson
brothers tell them

they have going with the courts.

And no gypsy wants probation.
She'd rather have the fine.

Readers think the
Samsons are keeping them

out of jail and off probation.

You know, the probation rap.

Part of the deal is the court
says they can't run the cards.

Now, if they
can't tell a fortune,

they can't hustle a buck!

So, you want Billy
Catcher to show the readers

he has a better fix than
the Samson brothers, right?

Now, you get the picture.

When Billy shows the readers

he can keep them
from being busted,

then they pay him rent.

How do you figure to
put the Samsons down?

We know where all
their locations are.

I've got a list.

- I'll give it to you later.
- Go ahead.

I've got a list of
our six locations.

I'll also give you that later.

When the readers see Billy's
spots aren't getting busted,

and the Samson
boys' readers are,

they'll start
swinging over to us.

We put the heat on
the Samsons' locations

and leave your locations alone.

All 64 of them, eventually.

$200 a month rent and a
piece of every big score.

Now, does that make
you want to dance?

Well, let's put
it this way, lady.

Yes?

We don't want
to sit this one out.

3:42 p.m. We dropped
Dallas Andrews off at her motel

and headed back to the office.

She was anxious to
get the business started.

So were we.

4:10 p.m. We gave
the Captain a rundown

on the meeting we had
with Dallas Andrews.

He agreed she had made
her first overture to bribery

and to stay with it until we
had enough to prosecute.

There was another
victim of the gypsy swindle

waiting in the squad room.

This is Fay Sager.

This is our Gypsy Crime Team:

Sergeant Friday, Officer Gannon.

Gypsy blessing. They
got her for $15,000.

Mrs. Sager, these men
will do what they can.

Thank you, Captain.

I'm so embarrassed about this.

This gypsy woman,
she was so convincing.

Yes, ma'am, we understand.

Now will you tell
us what happened?

Well, it started a little
over three months ago

when my husband passed away.

We were married 47
years. God rest his soul.

Go ahead, ma'am.
Well, I was reading

the classifieds
in the newspaper,

and that's what got me started.

How's that, ma'am?

The ad, it said "Mother
Maria Spiritual Reader,"

and I just thought
she could help me.

- I was depressed and lonely.
- Yes, ma'am.

I talked to her, Mother Maria,
on the phone several times,

and finally, I drove
out to her home.

She assured me
she could help me.

What's this Mother
Maria's address?

It's on Crenshaw, 7408 North.

It's a nice little home

and has a pretty
patch of snapdragons

growing up beside
the front porch

near the stoop, you know?

Yes, ma'am. Now, what
about this Mother Maria?

Well, at first, she
was very helpful

and understanding and
made me feel so much better.

That was at first.

Do you want to tell
us about the $15,000?

That's what she said was
my problem, that $15,000.

It was from my husband's
life insurance policy.

Oh, Sergeant Friday,
I'm so embarrassed.

I just hope this
doesn't get out.

We know how you feel.
Would you go ahead, please?

Well, she said the money
from the insurance policy

has the evil that brought
on all my problems

and depression, you know?

Yes, ma'am. Now,
how'd she prove the evil?

With an egg or tomato?

Why, it was an egg.
How did you know?

Would you go ahead, please?

This is the embarrassing
part. I'm so ashamed of myself.

Mother Maria told me to take
all of my money out of the bank

and keep it under my pillow.

Then she told me
to take a fresh egg

and place it on my stomach
every night and sleep on the money.

Oh, I hope you officers
don't think I'm a silly old fool.

It's happened
to a lot of people.

Now, how long did
you keep this up?

I slept with the egg and
the money for two weeks.

That's how long
Mother Maria told me to.

Then I took the egg and
the money back to her

after the two weeks.

Oh, I was very careful
I didn't break the egg.

Go ahead, please.

Well, I got to her house,

and she took the egg and
wrapped it in a handkerchief.

Then she put it on the altar
and chanted a blessing over it,

a gypsy blessing,
like the Captain said.

When the blessing was over,

she put the egg and the
handkerchief on the floor

and told me to
step on it, and I did.

And when she opened
the handkerchief,

there was something
else in it besides the egg.

Why, yes.

She said it was some of
the evil drawn from my body.

What did it look
like, a lock of hair,

a piece of hamburger,
or a chicken embryo?

Now that you mention it,

it did look like a small
lock of black hair.

All right, go ahead, please.

Well, she said the
egg could only take

a small part of the
evil from my body

and that the money
is what caused it,

the big evil, you know?

Yes, ma'am. What'd
she do with the money?

Bury it in the cemetery, or
flush it down the commode?

Oh, no.

She had me put it in this bag.

It belongs to Mother Maria,

and she gave me her
very own special bag.

The bujo. Not
used so often here.

What's that? A bujo, ma'am.

It's a gypsy con game.
It's called a switch.

Oh.

Yes, well, she gave me this bag,

and we put all my money inside,

and she sewed it up
with a big carpet needle,

told me to put it in my
closet for six months.

That was to make
all the evil go away.

So, I did it. That
was two months ago.

What made you open
the bag, Mrs. Sager?

Well, after two months of
keeping the money in the closet,

I really didn't
feel much better.

I was still kind of depressed.

So, I tried to
contact Mother Maria

to ask her what I should do.

I found out she'd moved away.

There was another
fortuneteller living in her house,

but she said she'd never
heard of Mother Maria.

Do you know what her name is?

No, she just snapped me off

and slammed the
door right in my face.

I didn't know what to do.
I was half sick with worry,

and my stomach
started to act up,

and I was just a nervous wreck.

So, you opened the bag?

Yes, sir.

I cut stitching and
opened it right up.

I was going to put it
all back in the bank.

Oh, just talking about
it makes me want to cry.

Go on, please.

Newspaper, nothing in
it but cut-up newspaper.

I feel so stupid,
I could just cry.

What shall I do?
Well, to start with,

you'll have to sign
this crime report.

Yes, sir. I feel so foolish.

I won't have to testify in court
or anything like that, will I?

I just couldn't face a
courtroom full of people.

Well, now, a great many victims

of this type of swindle
feel the same way you do,

and some do refuse to testify,
but you want to, don't you?

You want this woman stopped.

You're right, Sergeant.

I'll just have to drum up
my courage somehow.

She belongs in jail, where
she can't hurt anyone else.

Well, we'll do what we can.

We want to thank
you for coming in.

I don't suppose I'll ever
see my money again.

The odds are you won't.

I just never knew
about gypsies, I guess.

I never thought
they were like this.

You thought they wore
bandanas around their heads,

fancy beads around their necks,

laughed, and sang,
and played accordions?

Maybe for a dollar or
two, they'd run the cards

and tell your fortune, or
maybe read your palm,

let you know how long
you might expect to live?

A gay, happy bunch
like in the movies.

I'm sad to say that's exactly
the way I thought of them.

Well, now, maybe
someplace in the world,

there are some like that, but
we sure don't run into them.

I guess I didn't, either.

We completed the
grand theft crime report

and had Mrs. Sager check the
gypsy mug book for Mother Maria,

the fortuneteller that
had stolen her $15,000.

5:32 p.m.

It took Mrs. Fay
Sager 45 minutes

to find Mother Maria's
mug shot in the gypsy book.

Mother Maria, also
known as Sister Felicia,

Madame Zora, and her
key name, Fatima Goldring.

Thursday, May 13th, 8:30 a.m.

We contacted Deputy
District Attorney Bob Gray

at the Hall of Justice,

and we obtained a
warrant charging grand theft

for the arrest of Mother Maria.

9:47 a.m. We returned
to Parker Center

and filed a warrant in R & I.

We then had the warrant
information teletyped

as an all-points bulletin.

We were aware that
somewhere in the state,

gypsies had been known to
have received teletype information.

10:50 a.m. We
returned to the office

and brought the
Captain up to date.

We then waited for the
first call on the warrant

sent out for the
arrest of Mother Maria.

We felt we wouldn't
have to wait long.

11:10 a.m. Dallas
Andrews called.

She wanted to meet
as soon as possible

to introduce Billy Catcher

and talk to us about
the arrest warrant

out for Mother Maria.

Somewhere in the
state of California,

there was an information
leak, and that leak had paid off.

Dallas Andrews
knew about the warrant

ten minutes after it went
out on the teletype wires.

Sounded like you did good.

Yeah, they want to meet,
Vermont and Washington.

What was all that about
the warrant for Mother Maria?

She said she'd make it
worth my while if I could fix it.

They want to meet me alone.

Okay, Joe. How
much money you got?

You know, that's the first
time I'm glad it's not payday.

This continuity
of evidence thing

kind of gets to be a hassle.

- 4.86. That's all you've got?
- That's all.

You'd better
invite him to dinner.

I should have his money.

What's it cost to be a bachelor?

Write it down, Bill, 4.86.

Make it easy for him, Joe.

They're not even
trying to be careful.

They already think
I'm a pushover.

Show them that
bankroll of yours,

and they'll know it.

11:45 a.m. Bob Davis
of the Electronics Section

Scientific
Investigation Division,

installed a special tape recorder
and microphones in our vehicle.

12:05 p.m. I drove out to
Vermont and Washington

and picked up Dallas
Andrews and Billy Catcher.

We agreed to talk in a
deserted parking area

at the Greek Theater.

Bill covered in
the Captain's car.

This okay?

Yeah, fine. Nobody's around.

Just as long as we aren't seen.

Can't afford to be seen.
This is big business.

How does it feel to be a
partner in big business, Friday?

I'll let you know when I am.

Okay, okay. There's no rush.

Give him the list, Dallas.

Now, that top sheet
is the 58 fortunetellers

that belongs to the
Samson brothers,

the ones you're
gonna put the heat on?

- What's this other list?
- Those are my spots.

You make sure they're
left alone, all six of them.

They're worth 200 a
month each right now,

plus a piece of every big score.

I see you've got a reader
named Madame Flora here.

Yeah, what about her?

Well, the address
is North Crenshaw.

Wasn't that Mother Maria's spot?

Yeah, Mother
Maria's one of mine.

After that score for
15,000, I moved her.

You know the customer went
back looking for her, don't you?

- I thought she would.
- That's why I had her moved.

She's operating in that
spot on Florence now,

changed her name, too.

You're going backwards, Catcher.

Madame Zora, that's
one of her old aliases.

So what? You gonna
pick her up, Friday?

Well, you know the teletype
for her arrest is on the wires.

No, we don't know anything,

but we've got ten grand
that says you can fix it.

What do you think it'll take
to satisfy the customer?

Well, she's afraid to testify.

She'd probably be happy
getting back five or six thousand.

There you go, Friday!

You're gettin' to be a regular
financial wizard, aren't you?

If I stay out of jail.

You'll get ten
grand for the fix.

The customer's
happy getting five back.

That leaves 5,000
in your pocket.

Now, how are you
gonna go to jail,

unless your partner arrests you?

By the way, where is he?

You wanted to meet
with me, didn't you?

Mm-hm, one's
company, two's a crowd.

You take care of him
any way you see fit.

What if I can't get
that warrant fixed?

Well, then we move
Mother Maria out of state.

That's right, but I don't
want it to come to that.

This is our chance to
show Samson's people

how much power we've got.

You get Mother
Maria off the hook,

and we'll start getting the
Samson spots paying rent to us,

and you start getting rich.

I had this made up
for you at my jewelers.

It's a $20 gold piece
set in a money clip

and something clipped to it.

What's this for?

Mother Maria's future, Friday.

- Yeah?
- And ours.

For the next 45 minutes,

Dallas Andrews and Billy Catcher

laid out their
plans in fine detail.

I was to protect their
fortunetelling locations

and harass the others
until we had full control

of all fortunetelling and gypsy
bunko operations in the city.

For this, I was to receive

$100 each month
for each location.

The meeting resulted in bribe
money amounting to $11,000.

The money clip contained $11,000

in thousand-dollar bills:

1,000 down payment
for the operation,

10,000 to keep
Mother Maria out of jail.

We returned to Parker Center,

removed the tape
recording from our vehicle,

and headed up for the office.

Well, how'd it go?

11,000 worth so far.

$11,000. That's it, huh?

- Well, it'd better not be.
- Huh?

I started with this 4.86.

We booked the $11,000,
along with the tape recording

and the money clip as evidence.

Bill and I finished out the day

writing reports for presentation

to the District Attorney's
Office the next morning.

Friday, May 14th, 8:45 a.m.

Officer Mike Lansroni, the
Patrol Bureau Vice Coordinator,

had arranged for 15 teams

made up of male
and female officers

to operate
fortunetelling locations

contained on both lists
furnished by Dallas Andrews.

Because of a
shortage in manpower,

Bill was assigned with
policewoman Jean Wesley.

I was assigned with
policewoman Dorothy Miller

to operate the location
at 1247 South Florence,

Mother Maria's current location.

9:33 a.m. We arrived at
the fortunetellers location.

I provided Policewoman Miller

with a mug shot of Mother Maria.

She was instructed to signal
if Mother Maria was present.

If she was not present,

Dorothy Miller was
to operate the gypsy

for violation of Section 43.30

of the Los Angeles
Municipal Code, fortunetelling.

She was then to give
an alternate signal.

Thirty minutes later,

Policewoman Miller
came out of the location

and gave the alternate signal.

- You got enough?
- What is this?

You're under arrest
for fortunetelling.

Joe, I thought I heard someone
moving around in the back

while I was in there,
but I couldn't be sure.

All right, Mother Maria,
or whatever your name is,

come on out of there!

Police officer.

- I am Madame Zora!
- Yeah, that's today.

There's a warrant for your
arrest, charging grand theft.

You're wrong.

That's all been taken care of.

You're under arrest
for grand theft bunko.

Now, you each have
the right to remain silent,

and if you give up the
right to remain silent,

anything you say can and
will be used against you

in a court of law.

And you have the right
to speak with an attorney

and to have an attorney
present during questioning.

And if you so desire
and cannot afford one,

an attorney will be
appointed for you

without any charge
before questioning.

Now, do you each understand?

I understand what you said.

I also understand I've
got constitutional rights

to exercise my religion,

and my religion
is telling fortunes.

I believe you, lady.

You've got a big
enough collection plate.

Now, suppose you
give me your name.

Madame Mona, mystic greeter
of the known and unknown.

Do you understand?

I understand,
but I'm telling you,

you're making a big mistake.

That's all been taken care of.

There ain't no
warrant out for me.

It's been taken care of!

What makes you think
it's been taken care of?

Look, buster, you'd better
turn me loose right now,

or you're in big trouble.

Where's the big trouble
gonna come from?

From a cop named
Sergeant Friday, that's who.

It's all been taken care of.

Hmph.

Madame Zora, Madame
Zora, it's me, Katy Wilson.

Who is this woman?
How should I know?

I've never seen
her before in my life.

Where are you going?
We have an appointment.

I've got the money
and the egg right here,

just like you said.

I'm a police officer,
ma'am. Can I help you?

Oh, no, sir.

I have an appointment
with Madame Zora there.

She's going to help me.

Yes, ma'am, right
out of your money.

Mrs. Katy Wilson was the
current customer of Mother Maria.

She had $45,000
in her possession

and was ready to turn it
all over to rid herself of evil.

I informed her of the
gypsy's method of operation

and suggested she put
her money back in the bank.

After booking the
two fortunetellers

at the county women's jail,

Dorothy Miller and I
returned to the office.

We scored pretty good, Joe.

So did we.

Jean here made a doubleheader.

Two of them gave her a
reading at the same time.

So far, 28 readers
have been busted,

but all the teams
haven't reported in yet.

There'll be more. Friday.

- Yes, sir?
- I'll say one thing, Joe.

When you make a friend,
you really make one.

Well, hello there, Sergeant!

We told the Captain here
we wanted to talk to you.

Oh, that's all right. You
can talk in front of him.

Oh, well, why
didn't you tell us?

You just asked me.

That makes sense, Billy.

But you should've
told us before.

We could've had things
on the road by now,

instead of waiting for you.

We've been trying to
reach you all day, Friday,

called you three times.

- Is that so?
- What happened?

- What do you mean?
- Mother Maria.

Did you know some
knucklehead busted her?

I knew.

You sure it's safe
to talk in front of him?

Safe as you'll ever be.

Well, what about Mother Maria?

She's in jail.

Who's the baldhead
that ran her in?

- Me.
- What'd you do that for?

She broke the law.

Now, wait a minute.

That wasn't our understanding.

We gave you $11,000 to see
that didn't happen, didn't we?

That's right.

A lot of our places got hit,
too, along with Samson's.

That's what we're doing here!

Are you working some
kind of new system,

I mean, hitting the
Samsons and us, too?

No, it's an old system.

Well, I wish you'd
let us in on it!

Be glad to.

It's called attempting
to bribe a police officer.

You trying to make us look
bad in front of the Captain?

And after we came in
here of our own freewill.

I can promise you one thing.

I wish you would!

You're not gonna
walk out the same way.

The suspects were found guilty

of offering a bribe
to a police officer,

a felony, which is punishable by
imprisonment in the state prison

for not less than one
nor more than 14 years.

The suspect was found
guilty of grand theft.

Grand theft is punishable
by imprisonment

in the county jail for
not more than one year

or in the state prison for
not more than ten years.