A Quick Start: Running With a Fast Crowd

After Playboy centerfold Melonie Haller was assaulted at Roy Radin’s Southampton, N.Y., beachfront home, Radin moved to the West Coast in hopes of starting over. There he met Karen (Laney) Jacobs, an aspiring producer who offered to introduce him to a man who could make his dream of a Cotton Club musical a reality. Radin regarded Jacobs as the perfect Hollywood playmate, but he would soon learn that she was a lot more than fun and games, as author Steve Wicks reports in this excerpt from the book, “Bad Company.”

Roy Radin was a New Yorker at heart. He considered Los Angeles an ugly city with neither a center nor a soul.

But he knew, now more than ever, that his new home offered him hope for reviving his business. He was an optimist, and what drove him at this point was the absolute belief that by turning his attention to the West Coast, he would finally achieve the future he’d always dreamed he would have.

The whole point of moving to Los Angeles was to make movies. He had a file of properties he had carried around with him for years, including the Cotton Club musical.

Radin and (his associate) John Lawson flew to Los Angeles in early January, with scripts, proposals and film treatments stuffed into luggage. They moved into the Regency. Not a fancy hotel--it was set up for short-term rentals--it was clean and comfortable.

Because Radin did not know many people in Los Angeles, a friend of his in New York had told him about Carol Johnston, a travel agent, and suggested he meet her. She was acquainted with a lot of Hollywood people Radin would want to get to know.

Johnston left a message at the Regency, inviting Radin to a party she was having for her father, who had recently retired from a high position at one of the film studios. Radin was excited, telling Lawson that he hoped there would be a number of Hollywood executives in attendance.

On the night of the party, Radin dressed in his customary dark suit and tie, and Lawson drove him in their rented Mercedes to the house in Benedict Canyon. An hour and a half later, Lawson’s phone rang. Radin said excitedly that he was returning to the hotel with Johnston and another woman.

“She is not like anyone I’ve ever met,” Radin said. “I can’t believe her. She’s incredible. . . . She’s got incredible coke.”

An hour later, the door to the apartment burst open, and in walked Radin with the two women. Carol Johnston was attractive and well dressed. The second woman had short hair that was light in color but flecked with gray; her eyes were dark brown, almost black, behind a pair of designer glasses that had a bit of a rose tint. She had on a long evening dress that was brightly colored and tight-fitting. She talked loudly, laughing and hanging off Radin’s arm.

“Jonathan,” Radin said, beaming, “meet Laney Jacobs.”

Lawson poured champagne for all of them. Laney took cocaine from a small plastic compact she had in her purse. It opened up like two small dishes, with a little spoon that fit neatly inside. She ordered the white powder into lines on the coffee table.

After an hour, Laney’s cocaine was gone. She had more back at her house, and excitedly offered to show everyone the home she had bought. (Once there, Laney) proceeded to put some marijuana in a pipe, then invited Radin back into her bedroom, where they took drugs and talked.

(The next morning) Lawson asked about Laney, and Radin beamed. She had a lot of cocaine, he said, adding that he was sure he would be seeing more of her.

Lawson asked if that was all he saw in her, and Radin nodded his head. He seemed to have found the perfect Hollywood playmate.

Laney’s interest in Radin seemed to be for different reasons. She was intrigued by his vaudeville business, which had made him so successful at so young an age, and by his desire to become a Hollywood movie producer. She, too, wanted this, and knew Radin might be of great assistance to her.

In mid-March, Laney sat with Radin and began talking in detail about her personal plans. Her goal was to finance and produce movies. This was the first indication that she had given Radin as to why she had moved to Los Angeles. Radin had assumed she was there to sell cocaine.

Then she mentioned that she had met Bob Evans, whom she described as eager to raise financing for a package of movies. She said she was currently in the process of helping him raise the funds.

Radin asked how much Evans was looking for. Laney said millions of dollars. “Hell, I can do that,” Radin boasted confidently. “That’s no problem at all.”

A day or two later, Laney called the Regency and told Radin that she would be glad to introduce him to Evans. Radin excitedly jumped at the chance.

“Bob Evans!” Radin yelled out to Lawson when he got off the phone. “That’s incredible!” He paced around the room. “He produced ‘The Godfather,’ for God’s sake. He’s a legend.”

Toward the end of March, Laney, Radin, and Evans met for lunch at a restaurant in Beverly Hills. Evans told Radin he wanted to make three pictures back-to-back. Radin brought up his Cotton Club idea and Evans said he had long thought of doing a movie about the club himself. Evans’ idea was to make a film in the vein of “The Godfather,” not a musical, as was Radin’s proposal.

After a three-year absence, Evans was determined to make his comeback. What was needed to make it happen was money, but now over lunch, with the bubbly, self-confident Radin boasting about his financial sources, this obstacle seemed about to crumble.

In spite of the warnings against Evans, Radin pressed ahead. The information that Evans was washed up meant, in Radin’s view, that he could be controlled.

“Here is a guy with a big Hollywood name, the former head of a studio,” he told Lawson. “He’s got a huge track record, and he is down-and-out and falling a mile a minute. I can control him. Do you see that?”

At the end of March, Radin and Lawson returned to New York. Almost immediately after their arrival, Laney called, demanding to speak with Radin.

When Radin got on the phone, she yelled (about her courier), “Do you know where Tally Rogers is?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “Why would I know where he is?”

“I want to know if you’ve seen him,” she said. She was excited and angry. “The house has been ripped off. I’m out over a million and I think it’s Tally, because he’s disappeared. I want to know what you know about it.”

“Jesus Christ, lady,” he said, “who are you to talk to me in that tone of voice?”

Radin was shocked that she had that much cocaine in her house in the first place, but he knew nothing about any theft, and he told her so.

“I’m out a million dollars,” she yelled. “Do you know what that means?”

Radin’s goal was to conclude a deal with Bob Evans and to begin a new career as a movie producer. A theft from Laney’s house was of no concern to him.

After yelling at Radin, Laney went to see Marc Fogel at his rent-a-car office in Beverly Hills. One of the things Fogel had done for Laney was introduce her to his former lot manager, Bill Mentzer. A bodybuilder with thick dark-brown hair and a handsome face, Mentzer had become a bodyguard for Larry Flynt, the pornographer, who lived in Bel-Air.

At Fogel’s office, Laney told him about the theft. She explained that she was concerned enough about the theft to have hired Bill Mentzer to be her bodyguard.

“I am going to have to pay for the drugs,” she said. “I have to make good on this.”

Stealing cocaine was a death-penalty offense. With that in mind, Mentzer brought in several of his friends, most of whom hung out at a bodybuilding center in Santa Monica. One of them was an Argentine immigrant in his mid-20s named Alex Marti. Short and stocky, with a round, mean face and narrow eyes, Marti had also worked as a bodyguard for Larry Flynt.

Marti loved guns, had a fascination with violence, craved money, and hated lots of people, but particularly Jews. A watercolor portrait of Adolf Hitler adorned one wall of his Los Angeles home, and he was a collector of books and writings about the Third Reich. He talked a lot about killing people; his most quoted remark was that to really put someone away, you had to shoot him in the back of the head. That was the way the Nazis did it.

COMING UP

* FRIDAY: The prospect of a partnership between Roy Radin and producer Bob Evans enraged the woman who introduced them. Laney Jacobs wanted in on the deal to produce “The Cotton Club,” which she felt she had put together. She also accused Radin of having knowledge of a $1-million cocaine theft from her garage, where she stored the powder before distribution. Despite the bad blood between them and warnings that she was dangerous, Radin agreed to meet with Jacobs.

* SUNDAY: After Roy Radin’s disappearance, film producer Bob Evans, believing he was Jacob’s next target, traveled to Las Vegas seeking help from two friends who he thought were connected to the Mob.

Friday: Roy Radin disappears .

From the book, “Bad Company: Drugs, Hollywood and the Cotton Club Murder,” by Steve Wick. Copyright, 1990, by Steve Wick. Reprinted by permission of the publisher, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich.