Hush-Hush Magazine, 12/11/58:
Journalistic nitroglycerine-that’s the only way to describe it. 94 pages that arrived at Hush-Hush ten days ago, atom bomb accusations that were also sent to a Los Angeles newspaper and the State Attorney General’s Office.
They chose to ignore it; we chose to print it. The confidential source that transmitted this literary A-bomb verified its authenticity—and we believed him. 94 pages: scorching, scalding, burning hot revelations, the confessions of a crooked Los Angeles policeman on the run from the mob, the cops and his own violent past. You would have seen it here on December 18th—but something happened.
Kats and kittens, we’re on dicey legal ground here. We can describe the “legal” machinations that have censored us; our lawyers tell us that the vague description of the material covered in the preceding paragraph does not violate the “legal” injunction filed against us by the Los Angeles Police Department.
And we’ll go just a tad further in our description: those 94 pages would have brought the LAPD to its knees. Our (regrettably) anonymous author, unflinching in his portrayal of his own corruption, also charged celebrated Los Angeles policemen with felony malfeasance on a spectacular scale and claimed that LAPD off icials covered up a complex web of circumstances surrounding the recent L.A. crime wave. Scalding, scorching hot revelations—verifiably true—and we can’t print them.
That’s as much as our attorneys will permit us to tell you about those 94 pages. Is your appetite whetted? Good, now let us stoke your rage.
An employee of ours, a man charged with gathering electronic information, has a drinking problem. He saw those 94 pages, recognized them as dynamite and called an LAPD acquaintance. Our employee, a probation absconder ducking drunk driving warrants, leaked those pages to his acquaintance. Word spread to the LAPD hierarchy; a restraining order was secured. Our employee was rewarded: his warrants were rendered null and void. Those scalding 94 pages were seized; we cannot print any portion of them under threat of “legal” injunction.
The newspaper? The State Attorney General’s Office?
They discarded their 94 pages. They ridiculed them as hogwash. The monstrous facts were too ugly to believe.
The author? He’s out there among the night blooming fiends in the City of the Fallen Angels.
The upshot? You decide. Decry this fascistic censorship. Write to us. Write to the LAPD. Express your rage. Send one up for a rogue cop whose mea culpa read too explosive to print.
L.A. Times, 12/14/58:
L.A. Mirror, 12/15/58:
L.A. Herald-Express, 12/16/58:
L.A. Times, 12/19/58:
L.A. Mirror, 12/21/58:
L.A. Mirror, 12/22/58:
L.A. Herald-Express, 12/23/58:
L.A. Examiner, 12/26/58:
L.A. Mirror, 12/27/58:
L.A. Mirror, 12/28/58:
L.A. Herald-Express, 1/3/59:
The scene was sad, touching, antithetical to recent police headlines: Narcotics officers indicted on graft charges. That scene: a grossly injured Los Angeles policeman fighting for his life in a hospital bed.
Dudley L. Smith, Captain, LAPD. Dublin born, Los Angeles raised, a World War II OSS spymaster. 53 years old, thirty years a policeman. A wife, five daughters. Numerous commendations for bravery, LAPD toastmaster, lay chaplain. Dudley L. Smith: stabbed in an altercation with a robber five weeks ago—now fighting for his life.
He’s winning that fight so far: he lost an eye, he’s paralyzed, he’s sustained brain damage, he’ll probably never walk again. When he’s lucid he charms nurses with his brogue and jokes that he’ll do advertisements like the eye patch man who hucksters Hathaway Shirts. He’s not lucid most of the time, and that’s a heartbreaker.
The LAPD will not release details on the altercation that earned Dudley Smith his wounds; they know he would prefer to spare the family of the robber he killed the ignominy of public recognition. That’s a heartbreaker, as is the fact that Dudley Smith will require intensive sanitarium care for the rest of his life.
His police pension and savings won’t cover it. He’s too proud to accept police charity contributions. He’s a legendary policeman, much beloved, a cop who has killed eight men in the line of duty. Knowing these things, LAPD Chief of Detectives Edmund Exley asked the Los Angeles City Council to exercise a rarely used option and vote him a special pension: an amount to sustain his care in a comprehensively equipped sanitarium indefinitely.
The City Council agreed and voted in Dudley Smith’s pension unanimously. Chief Exley told reporters: “It’s important that Captam Smith remains contained and receives the care he deserves. He’ll be safe and secure, and he’ll be able to live out his days free of the taxing problems of police work.”
Dudley L. Smith, hero. May those days stretch long and peacefully.