 The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Fatima cigarettes, best of all long cigarettes, brings you drag net. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned to homicide detail. A woman has disappeared, taken from her home by a man posing as a police officer. Your job, find her. If you want a long cigarette, smoke the best of all long cigarettes. Smoke extra mild Fatima. Yes, Fatima is the king size cigarette which contains the finest Turkish and domestic tobaccos, superbly blended to make it extra mild. To give Fatima a much different, much better flavor and aroma than any other long cigarette. That's why Fatima has more than doubled its smokers coast to coast. Enjoy extra mild Fatima yourself. Best of all, long cigarettes. It's wise to smoke extra mild Fatima. It's wise to smoke extra mild Fatima. Drag net, the documented drama of an actual crime. For the next 30 minutes in cooperation with the Los Angeles Police Department, you will travel step by step on the side of the law through an actual case transcribed from official police files. From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Drag net is the story of your police force in action. It was Tuesday, April 4th. It was warm in Los Angeles. We were working the night watch out of homicide detail. My partner's Ben Romero, the boss is Thad Brown, chief of detectives. My name's Friday. It was 10 minutes past 6 p.m. when I got to the basement of the city hall. Carpool. Thad Brown will be down in a minute. The captain will follow us out later. Okay. No contact yet? No, he's still waiting. You take care of the local broadcast. It's already going out. They'll put the descriptions on the air every hour. How's it look to you now? I don't know. Nothing more we can do to make a contact. Oh, here's Thad Brown now. You want to squeeze over a little? Oh, yeah, sure. Hi, chief. Hi. Let's go. Might as well take Beverly Boulevard, huh, Ben? It's as fast as any. You got the address there Friday? Yeah, it's 617 Paris Avenue. It's out by Echo Park. Who's covering the house now? Ross and Pachele are staked out in a private garage across the street from the house. Donahoe and Weisman are on duty inside the castle place. Want a smoke? Mmm, thanks. I'd mean one, wouldn't you, Joe? Yeah. You got the story from the maid at the castle's house, right? Mm-hmm. Check it out? Pretty sure she's telling it straight. If anything's wrong, I don't think she's got a hand in it. Hang on, Ben. You got the call about three this afternoon? A few minutes after, we went right out and talked to the maid. How'd she tell it? She said she was fixing dinner about two this afternoon when the doorbell rang. She answered it, and a young man in a gray suit asked for Mrs. Kessler by name. He told the maid it was an emergency. Well, the maid said Mrs. Kessler came to the door and the man identified himself as a police officer. Told Mrs. Kessler her husband had been hurt in an accident and she was to come right away. The man shows identification. The maid said no. Said Mrs. Kessler just took it for granted he was a cop. Yeah, go ahead. Mrs. Kessler got her coat and left with the man. About an hour later, her husband, Professor Kessler, got home. He wasn't hurt. He hadn't been in an accident. He hadn't seen his wife. As soon as he heard from the maid what had happened, he got on a phone and called her. What's the background of the husband, this Professor Kessler? He's supposed to have quite a name. He's a professor of philosophy out at Simmons College at a small school out in your Glendale. Oh, yeah. He's the vout man, president of one of the local synagogues. You sure about the maid's story, huh? Sure as we can be. She gave us a good description of the man who picked up Mrs. Kessler. I got it right here. Yeah. Here. A white male American, 25 to 30 years old. Six feet, 170 to 80 pounds. Gray suit, gray head, brown shoes. How about the car he used? Late modern Chevrolet. Dark blue, white sidewalls. That's all the maid could tell us. She didn't notice the last... You better cut over on the west like that. It'll take us past the beach or what? This Professor Kessler, see, he's been told what to do. Yeah, he's been briefed. We've had a couple of men with him since this thing broke. He's taken it pretty hard. How old a man is he? Oh, he was late 30s. Wouldn't you say so, Ben? Pretty close to 40. Nice for that old squad. Two kids in the family, just about school age. Boy and a girl. This next one ought to be Paris Avenue. Yeah. There's a big gray house down there for a white trim. Don't park too close to the house. I saw her do it right here, don't I say? What time you got? Man, 6.15. Most dark. Where's the garage I'm in a covering from? Can you see beyond that light pole there, the white stucco place? Oh, yeah. Next one here's a castle home. Doesn't look very rich. Neither do the kessels. I don't think they got much money. Hide down at home. Come in. Is that the husband? Yeah, I just got a phone call a couple of minutes ago. I listened on the extension. Who called? I tried to trace it. The guy wouldn't stay in the line longer. What'd you say? Tell the cops to stay away. I said it twice, tell the cops to stay away. Huh? I said if they don't, I'll kill her. The castle house had already been placed under strict surveillance and the victim's husband instructed not to contact the abductors without knowledge of the police. To the working detective, there's only one rule to go by when the job of solving an abduction is put in his hands. Find the victim as fast as possible, get the victim to safety, then go after the criminal. It's not an easy job. The responsibility is in the light and the outcome isn't always successful. If you press too hard, the abductor gets frightened and kills the victim. If you don't press hard enough, the criminal has more time to work for his pay-off and then escape. Somewhere between the two was the right answer. We had to find it. 6.30 p.m. Special details of men were ordered out to the bus depose the railroad terminals and the airports. Road blocks were set up at all main arteries leading into and out of the city. Every branch post office in Los Angeles was covered to watch for possible ransom notes addressed to Professor Kessel. 6.40 p.m. We met in the Kessel's living room. Chief Wiseman? Professor Kessel will be down in a minute. He says he's sorry to keep you waiting. You feeling any better? A little. Phone call about his wife shook him up a bit. How about those people who came in a few minutes ago? Were they? Relatives. Half a dozen of them. They're waiting back in the kitchen. How'd they know about Mrs. Kessel? They didn't. They'd been invited to dinner. They didn't know anything was wrong till they got here. Kessel asked them to stay for the meal. He wants to keep up appearances for the sake of his kids. He doesn't want them to worry about their mother. Is the dinner that important to him? Well, tonight's the start of the pesa when the Jewish religion pass over. Oh, yeah. It's one of the big holidays. Oh, I see. When they started off with this dinner tonight, is that the way? Yeah. Big dinner. They call them satyrs. Tonight they have the first satyr. Good evening. Sorry to keep you waiting. How are you? No, please, sit down. We don't like to intrude on your privacy, Professor Kessel, but I think you can see it's necessary. Oh, yes, of course. I'm very grateful. There's anything at all I can do to help. Do you have any idea who might be responsible for abducting your wife? That's what has me so confused. How do you mean to? Well, I'm sure I have people who don't like me, who don't like us, but someone who would take my wife who says they'll kill her? No, I don't know who it could be. How about the voice of the telephone professor? Did you recognize it at all? No, it didn't sound like anyone I knew. He talked so fast, I could hardly understand the man. Do you think the person who took your wife has some other motive besides holding her for ransom? I can't understand that either. If it's money they want, why go after a teacher's wife? $1,500 in the bank, that's all I have. That and this house. How about your immediate family, Professor? Well, my wife Ruth, her people, have quite a bit. I guess you would call them rich, but it's their money, not mine. I can't understand why anyone would do it. For Ruth, anything happened? Children? Albert? I'm sorry. It's all right, we understand. Albert? Yes, Bertha, come in, would you please? Gentlemen, this is my sister Bertha. She's here with her husband for the same. How are you? Albert, it's late. Son down, it's time to start the kitchen. Oh, yes. All right, Bertha, you tell everyone to come to the table, I'll be right in. The officers will have the first sater with them? Yes, Bertha, you please set them places. Yes, Albert. Say, we don't mean to intrude here, we can wait outside while you have your dinner. Oh, no, please. I'd be honored to have you sit at the table with us. Know what in the house should be without food tonight. First sater for Passover, it's the law. How's that thing? Oh, excuse me, the Hebrew law. Would you come this way please? Yes, Professor. He turned and let us down the hallway into the dining room. A long white cloth covered the table, and the center was a brightly polished brass candelabra holding four lighted tapers. There were a few platters of food already set out and at the head of the table where Professor Kessel stood an open prayer book. In order not to add to the alarm of his two small children in the absence of their mother, Professor Kessel introduced us his friends from Simmons College. This is Mr. Brown, Mr. Friday, Mr. Wiseman, Mr. Romero. You do, then. Of course. No, sit down, please, sit down. Yeah, it smells good. Yeah, you got enough room there, Joe. Oh, fine. Hey, how's it work, Wiseman? Should we join in the prayers? Not unless you speak Hebrew. Yeah. Yeah, telephone call. All right. Friday talking. This is Lacey, Joe. He just got a call from the morgue. Yeah? He brought in a body a few minutes ago. They checked the description. Yeah? They think it's Mrs. Kessel. I went back into the dining room and told Chief Brown about the call. He told Professor Kessel. He said he'd finish as quickly as possible so as not to alarm the children and then go with us to the morgue to check the identity of the body. The prayers continued along with the dinner. Yes, Papa. I'm sorry. Excuse me. I'm sorry. Excuse me. What was it, Wiseman? What was the boy saying? The ceremony during the meal. He's supposed to ask his father certain questions about the Passover and then the father answers him. I guess it was too much for Kessel. No broken leg. What did the boy ask him? Why is this night different from any other night? 7.30 p.m. Sergeant Wiseman and Donahoe stayed on duty at the house while Chief Brown, Ben and I drove Professor Kessel to the county morgue. On the way we called in and checked with Captain Steed of Homicide. He told us there had been no reports on Mrs. Kessel. 7.43 p.m. Ben and I took Kessel to the basement of the Hall of Justice, County morgue. This way, Professor. Oh, yes. You sure you feel up to it? Thank you. I'll be all right. Cold in here. Yes, sir. Hi, fellas. It's back here. Okay, Archie. This is Professor Kessel, Archie. I do. This way. Jane, door number five. I called over as soon as they brought it in. Yeah, thank you. This is the auto cam. No identification? No. Here we are. Thank God. Thank God. No, it's not my wife. It seemed as if both the victim and whoever had taken her had vanished completely. At 11.30 p.m. Captain Steed, Ben and I went across the street for a cup of coffee and a fried egg sandwich. We got back to the office at 10 minutes to midnight. Still no word. At 2 a.m. Ben and I drove back to the Kessel house to relieve Donahoe and Wiseman. There was no watch in the living room. In the bedroom directly above, we could hear Professor Kessel pacing the floor most of the night. At 5 a.m. Captain Steed called. He told us a letter addressed to the professor had been reported at the arcade post office. As soon as the outside of the envelope had been photographed and checked for prints, it would be brought out for Professor Kessel to open. Yeah, I'll get it. Chief. Good morning. Hi, Ali. Hi, Joe. In here. Did you lift anything off the envelope, Lee? Nothing we can use, no. Might have more luck with the letter. Good morning. You brought the letter? It's right here, Professor Kessel. I'd like you to stand by while we open it. This is Lieutenant Jones, my crime lawyer. Lieutenant? You check the note for fingerprints. Oh, yes, I can get you a letter open. I think this one over here. Yeah, that's all right. I could use my pocket knife. You want to grab one corner of the paper banner? Just the tip of the corner. Use your fingernail. Okay. And you have to open it and pin down these corners here. What is it for? The words are put together with small printed letters. They all seem to be the same kind of typeface. Letters were probably clipped from a book and pasted together to form these words. Who sent it? What does it say? Thanks, Lee. If you want to see your wife alive, have 30,000 small bills tonight. Well, police, I kill her. Instructions follow in mail. No signature. 30,000. I haven't got the money. I can't get it. He'll kill her. Mr. Castle, there's still a chance. But what can I do? I haven't got that much money. He says he'll kill her. What can we do? What we've been doing. Yes? Wait. You are listening to Dragnet, the case history of a police investigation presented in the public interest by Fatima Cigarettes. Fatima? The long cigarette that has more than doubled its smokers coast to coast. And there's a very good reason for this amazing increase. Men and women everywhere are finding out it's wise to smoke extra mild Fatima. I agree, says Lee Silver, news reporter. I agree, says Jean Mattson, airline stewardess. I agree, says Mike Charter, attorney at law. I agree, says Bob Beckwith, fashion stylist. Yes, all agree. It's wise to smoke extra mild Fatima. So enjoy extra mild Fatima yourself. The king size cigarette which contains the finest Turkish and domestic tobaccos superbly blended to make it extra mild. You will prefer Fatima's much different, much better flavor and aroma. You will agree. It's wise to smoke extra mild Fatima. It's wise to smoke extra mild Fatima. Best of all, long cigarettes. Wednesday, 7 a.m. With the aid of an iodine fume gun, Lee Jones checked the extortion letter for Mrs. Kessel's abductor for fingerprints and other marks of identification. He found nothing. The piece of paper on which the cut out printed letters had been pasted was of a common variety sold in most stationery in five and ten cent stores. Jones photographed both sides of the envelope in the letter. 11 a.m. Still no word. None of the special details had anything to report. At 1.45 p.m. another letter was delivered to the house. The envelope was open. The letter removed carefully and pinned down at the corners. It's put together the same as the last one. Tonight at 11 o'clock come along your car tell police I kill her. Is there more Friday? Yeah. Drive corner Lakeshore Charter Street. Wrap money brown paper. Small bills. Come along your car. Put package by fire plug then leave. Tell police and I kill her. No signature. I haven't got the money. Lakeshore and Charter. That shouldn't be too hard for us to catch. Sounds pretty much like an amateur. That makes it touchy. If he's green he'll scare easy. If he's scared he may kill her. Not if we reach him. How can I get the money? You won't need any. We'll have a dummy package made up. There'll be a single dollar bill inside. This paper's cut to the size of currency. That's what you'll deliver. But when he gets the package when he finds out it's not the money what's he gonna think? We'll explain it to him. Starting at 10 o'clock that night more than a dozen cars from the detective bureau circled the area around Lakeshore Avenue and Charter Street keeping a distance ranging from three quarters to a full mile away so as not to scare off the abductor. Some of the cars were parked in service stations, some in private driveways. The neighborhood was located in the heart of a new veterans housing project for a full five blocks in either direction there were no buildings of any kind where we could keep an eye on the package of fake ransom money. The owner of one of the completed houses nearest the spot on Charter Street was contacted and he agreed to let us use his home as a lookout point for the stakeout that night. 9 p.m. Ben and I took up our positions on the roof of the lookout house. We were equipped with two pair of night binoculars and a walkie-talkie. I could think of a few other places I'd rather spend a night. How well can you see that intersection from here? It comes in fine with these binoculars. The guy shows we ought to see him. I better check with the captain again. What time you got? 9.25. Where's the skipper parked? Private driveway near Charter and Hayward. Friday to 105k. Friday to 105k. Come in. Got a clear view of the intersection. Nothing yet outside of cramped legs. You're reading me okay? Roger, standing by. If you're lucky, my kid can't see me now. Why? You'd never understand. Why should his father be sitting on top of somebody's roof late at night? You'd never get it. We waited. 10 o'clock came, 10.30. At exactly 11 p.m. as we watched through our night binoculars, we saw Professor Kessel drive up to the designated location five blocks away, placed the fake package of ransom money by the fire hydrant near the intersection and then drive away. 11.30, we waited. Midnight. 2 a.m., nothing happened. The package was still lying by the fire hydrant, undisturbed. Captain Steed checked with us periodically on the walkie-talkie. At 3.30 a.m., we were still waiting. At a few minutes past 6 a.m., Professor Kessel was directed to return to the intersection, pick up the package and drive back to his home. We were told to show maybe the suspected sense to trap, maybe he had no idea of showing up in the first place. Maybe Mrs. Kessel was dead, we didn't know. 10 a.m., Thursday, no further contact from the abductor. A special detail from homicide, including Ben and I were ordered on a door-to-door canvas of the general area around Lakeside Avenue and Charter Street. After seven hours of ringing doorbells and asking questions, we came across a Mr. Harold Olander, one of the longtime residents of the Silver Lake area. We showed him the general description of Mrs. Kessel's abductor. Yeah, that could be Thompson. I don't know for sure, though. Where did you see this Thompson, Mr. Olander? Oh, I saw him lots of times. He wrenched that cottage of mine down the street there. You see, the white one? Mm-hmm. Does this Thompson have a car? Thompson? Yeah, yeah, new one. I wonder if you could describe it. Chevrolet, nice-looking, blue color, I think. Could be, Joe. Is Thompson in the house now, Mr. Olander? He's been driving away already this morning. I can show you the house if it's official police business. It is. Come on, then. I got the key right here. The cottage is just down the block there. See the one I mean? The white one. Yes. How long's Thompson been in the house? Two weeks tomorrow. You noticed anything unusual about him? Mm-hmm. Nothing special. Comes and goes at odd hours. Then a lot of people do. I don't brag. The house right here. Does he usually keep all the blinds drawn? Yeah, another dimensionate. A lot of people do like this. Want to check back in the kitchen, Bannon? Yeah. Look at the living room, Sergeant. Yeah. On a stick of furniture. That's funny. You sure you didn't see anybody else in this house besides Thompson? No. No, he's the only one. Looks like it, Joe. Found this woman's purse stuffed in one of the kitchen cabinets. This sales slip was in the purse. This is Albert Kessel. There a phone here, Mr. Olander? Out in the hall. You still connected? Joe, I'll check back in the bedroom before you phone him. Right, Ben. No, you better stay with me, Mr. Olander, if you will. All right. Homicide. Do you have any idea where this Thompson is now, Mr. Olander? No. He comes and goes. I don't like the pride. This Friday, Skepper, we got one for you. I've got one for you. Mrs. Kessel, she's been found. Mrs. Kessel was unharmed. She had no idea where she had been or why she had been suddenly released. All additional information which she could furnish on the suspect was immediately relayed to the entire state and an APB. Two hours later, at a neighborhood garage Thompson patronized, we got his license numbered. We ran it through DMV and found the car was registered in the name of Charles Cottrell. 1015 Green Oak Drive, 7 p.m. Yes. Police officers, is Charles Cottrell here? Yes. Come in, please. I knew you'd find him. I kept hoping that I knew you'd find him. Where is he, ma'am? He'll give himself up. I'm his wife. I talked to him. There won't be any trouble. No trouble. Where is he? You've got to understand, he didn't know what he was doing. We needed money. He didn't know what he was doing. We'll have to search the house, ma'am. Charlie! All right, ma'am. Behind you back. You didn't know what you were doing. Tell him. We needed the money. I thought it would work. What would I do wrong? Come on. It should have worked. I planned it all out. Where did I make a mistake? When you thought of it. You just heard was true. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent. On August 2nd, trial was held in Superior Court, department 86, city and county of Los Angeles, in a moment the results of that trial. It's amazing how many long cigarette smokers are changing to extra mild Fatima. Here is the actual report. From coast to coast, extra mild Fatima has more than doubled its smokers. Yes, more and more smokers every day are discovering that Fatima is the king size cigarette that is extra mild. Extra mild because it contains the finest Turkish and domestic tobaccos superbly blended to make it extra mild. To give it a much different, much better flavor and aroma. Enjoy extra mild Fatima yourself. Best of all, long cigarettes. It's wise to smoke extra mild Fatima. It's wise to smoke extra mild Fatima. Charles Cattrell was tried and convicted of kidnapping and received the sentence as prescribed by law. He is now serving his term in the state penitentiary. You have just heard of Dragnet, a series of authentic cases from official files. Technical advice for Dragnet comes from the office of Chief of Police W.A. Wharton, Los Angeles Police Department. Fatima Cigarettes, the best of all long cigarettes has brought you Dragnet, transcribed from Los Angeles. Next here, Sarah Berner and Sarah's private caper on NBC.