Ring-a-Ding-DING: The Night Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin Got Involved in a Brawl at the Polo Lounge (Exclusive)
In an exclusive excerpt from Scott Huver's 'Beverly Hills Noir', we see the dark side of the toniest zip code in America
Beverly Hills may be known as one of the most glamorous cities on the planet, but the glitz always comes with a dark side.
The new true crime book Beverly Hills Noir: Crime, Sin & Scandal in 90210, by journalist, author and longtime PEOPLE contributor Scott Huver, explores a collection of some of the most outrageous extralegal incidents in 90210 history, including Rat Pack icons Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin’s raucous night on the town that devolved into a violent, mysterious barroom brawl, leaving Beverly Hills police hunting two of the fabled city’s most famous local residents, looking for answers.
Below, read an exclusive excerpt shared with PEOPLE.
It was Dean Martin’s 49th birthday. The drinks, as you might suspect, were flowing, and in the wee small hours of the morning, Frank Sinatra was buying.
Dino, as he was known to his intimates, and his closest "pally” were marking the occasion at a location that was as nearly iconic as they were: the posh Polo Lounge of the legendary Beverly Hills Hotel on Sunset Boulevard. Both had plenty to celebrate on Dino’s birthday — June 7, 1966 — with a late-night bash just after midnight: between movies, television, records and concerts, Martin was well on his way to becoming the era’s highest-earning entertainer in show business; while Sinatra, then 50, was at the creative apex of his storied recording and acting careers — and in love with 20-year-old actress Mia Farrow, 30 years his junior.
Related: Mia Farrow and Frank Sinatra's Relationship: A Look Back
Farrow was absent on Martin’s birthday, as was Martin’s wife Jeannie, and their fellow Rat Packer Sammy Davis, Jr., performing in Las Vegas. Instead they were joined by the actor Richard Conte, who also appeared with Sinatra, Martin and Davis in 1960’s Ocean’s Eleven. A Jersey boy like Frank and the son of an Italian barber like Dino, Conte’s perhaps best remembered today as Corleone family rival Don Barzini in The Godfather.
Also joining the party, which included a trio of unidentified women, was Sinatra’s close friend Ermenegildo “Jilly” Rizzo, beloved owner of the popular New York nightspot Jilly’s. A burly rhinoceros of a man with a glass eye (the source of much lurid speculation), Rizzo spoke in a Guys and Dolls-esque parlance of “dese, dems and dose” liberally laced with enough expletives to make Damon Runyon blush. He traveled around the world as boon companion and de facto bodyguard for his pal “Sinat,” once telling Queen Elizabeth II of England “If anyone ever hits you, call me.”
Related: 'The Godfather' Cast: Where Are They Now?
The group arrived after midnight at the luxurious, dimly lit cocktail bar and settled into a large booth, the centers of attention in the most rarefied watering hole in the city, glittering like 24-carat diamonds in a solid gold setting. Risqué language and colorful ethnics epithets flowed as liberally as the liquor, drawing the ire of a nearby diner who, while not nearly as famous, was at least as wealthy and possibly more influential. As Frederick R. Weisman rose to complain, Dean might have warned him. “It’s Frank’s world,” he once philosophized. “We just live in it.”
Arriving 20 minutes from closing time, Weisman, then 54, had risen from selling wholesale produce to become the president of Hunt’s Foods, later retiring to become a pivotal patron of the arts with of the region’s top modern art collections in his showplace Beverly Hills home. Accompanying Weisman was a guest of the hotel, 74-year-old Franklin H. Fox, a prominent businessman from a Boston furniture company.
The two men had just driven over from dinner prepping for the impending wedding of Weisman’s son and Fox’s daughter. Stopping in for a nightcap, they took the booth alongside Sinatra and Martin’s and chatted over drinks for about 10 minutes, barely able to hear one another over the rowdy laughter and salty conversation from the celebrity celebrants.
Eventually, Weisman grew annoyed, leaned over to the party and, as Sinatra concluded a call from one of the famous pink boothside telephones — installed so Hollywood power players could seal deals brokered over dinner and cocktails immediately — asked them to lower the volume and scolded them for their vulgarity — there were ladies present, after all.
Despite Weisman’s objection to blue language, Sinatra later quoted him as saying, “You talk too f---ing loud and you have a bunch of loud-mouthed friends.” There may have also been the use of a certain d-word and a certain w-word that Italian Americans typically object to.
Taken aback, the singer — who said at first that he thought Weisman was kidding but quickly realized the man was serious — fired off a testy “You’re out of line, buddy,” and turned back to the merriment at hand.
This is where the details become rather hazy, depending on whose account you believe:
It’s possible, as Sinatra would state to police, that Weisman suddenly decked the singer in the right eye, giving him a near-instant shiner, then apparently slipped and fell — though no one had touched him — breaking the base of a cocktail table as he crashed to the floor with a thud.
It’s possible, as Franklin Fox would tell a Sinatra biographer decades later, that Sinatra uttered an anti-Semitic remark at Weisman, following up with a crack about his glasses, then stormed out of the room with his friends before things came to blows, only to return moments later in a fit of rage. Martin, Fox and a hotel security guard tried to hold Sinatra and Weisman apart as Martin pleaded, “Let’s get out of here, Frank!” Then Sinatra may have grabbed one of the boothside telephones and hurled it viciously at Weisman — Ring-a-Ding-DING! — knocking him cold and sending him to the floor with a thud.
It’s possible that after trading insults, “everybody started grabbing everybody else,” as one eyewitness reported, and in the melee, Weisman suddenly fell to the floor with a thud.
It’s possible that Dean Martin really didn’t see what happened, as he related, but some Clyde who had taken a poke at his pally suddenly hit the floor with a thud.
Related: Drunk Dean Martin Offers Johnny Carson Some Late-Night Hosting Tips in Historic 'Late Night' Clip
In the end, the thud was one constant element in each of the stories. Weisman had landed on the floor and was flat on his back amid an upturned ashtray, a cast-off tablecloth and a clutter of broken crystal. It sounded as if he were snoring. And he wasn’t getting up.
Security had separated the combatants and Martin, Conte, Rizzo and the rest of the party hustled Sinatra out of the cocktail lounge as Fox tried to revive Weisman, to no avail. The Beverly Hills Police Department was alerted, and paramedics took Weisman out on a stretcher as police interviewed the Polo Lounge staff and eyewitnesses. The executive was transported to the Beverly Hills First Aid Station, where he was treated, revived, and released, then taken home and put to bed.
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When Martin returned to his home a few blocks away, he stopped in the living room and perched glumly on the sofa next to his 18-year-old daughter Deana, who was surprised to see her father home so early on his birthday.
Related: Dean Martin's 8 Children: All About His Sons and Daughters
“Frank blew a fuse tonight,” he told her. “He can’t let it go.” Asked if anyone was hurt, Martin replied as he rose to go to bed, “I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”
Almost 24 hours after the incident, when Weisman again failed to awaken, he was taken to the intensive care unit of Mt. Sinai Hospital, where he remained there in critical condition for 48 hours. Rushed into surgery, he endured a two-and-a-half-hour operation to alleviate a skull fracture. Weisman emerged in serious condition, still comatose, and doctors could not guarantee he would survive.
As soon as Police Chief Clinton Anderson – well-acquainted with Sinatra, especially due to his hand in security measures when Sinatra’s close friend President John F. Kennedy frequently visited the the Beverly Hilton Hotel, JFK’s unofficial “Western White House” – learned just how grave Weisman’s condition was, he ordered Beverly Hills detectives to launch a full-scale investigation immediately.
Anderson’s detectives rounded up more hotel employees and bystanders who might have seen something. Still, the stories were only consistent in that nobody knew for certain if anyone had pushed or struck Weisman. Told Weisman was taking prescription medication that might not have mixed well with his liquor, the chief held off on any conclusions until he heard everyone’s stories.
“He could’ve fallen and hit his head on a table,” mused Anderson to the press, “but somebody might have slugged him, too.” His suspicions were fueled when he discovered that two of the principal players — Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin — had flown the coop. Quite literally, as it turned out.
“Sinatra has been in hiding,” Anderson told the detail-hungry press, “but we’ll get him.”
From Beverly Hills Noir: Crime, Sin & Scandal in 90210 by Scott Huver. Published by arrangement with Post Hill Press. Copyright © Scott Huver, 2024.
Beverly Hills Noir: Crime, Sin, & Scandal in 90210 hits shelves Oct. 1 and is available for preorder now, wherever books are sold.
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