 The story you were about to hear is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Fatima cigarettes. Best of all, king-sized cigarettes brings you dragnet on both radio and television. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned a robbery detail. Two convicts escape from the state penitentiary. They're heading for your city. They're armed. They've boasted they won't be taken alive. Your job? Get them. In Fatima, the difference is quality. Yes, in Fatima, the difference is quality. Prove it yourself today. Compare Fatima with any other king-sized cigarette. One, Fatima's length filters the smoke 85 millimeters for your protection. Two, Fatima's length cools the smoke for your protection. Three, Fatima's length gives you those extra puffs. 21 percent longer than standard cigarette size. And in Fatima, you get an extra mild and soothing smoke plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Definitely the best quality in its class but the same price as a cigarette you're now smoking. Buy Fatima in the bright sunny yellow pack. Best of all, king-sized cigarettes. 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 violence. From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Dragnet is the story of your police force in action. It was Wednesday, October 6th, it was cloudy in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out of robbery detail. My partner's Ed Jacobs, the boss's Captain Diddy, and my name's Friday. We were on the way out from the office and it was 2.40 p.m. when we got to Kesterson Boulevard. Number 1256. Sounds like she's having a party, huh? Yeah, I'll try it again, huh? Maybe they can't hear it. Yes? Police Officer's Ma'am, you Ruth Thompson? Yes, that's right. What is it? My name's Friday. This is my partner Sergeant Jacob, Central Robbery. We'd like to talk to you a few minutes if we could. Well, I have a party going on right now. A few of my friends are over. What'd you want, Sergeant? It's about Nandy Powell, Mr. Thompson. I understand you know him. I did know him, yes. I haven't seen him for a long time, three or four years anyway. Mind if we ask a few questions about him? It won't take long. All right. Come in, please. Thank you. We're sorry to disturb you, ma'am. It's pretty important that we wouldn't hold you up here. It's all right. Down the hall here. All right. We can talk in the kitchen if you don't mind. It's my girlfriend's birthday today. I thought it'd be nice to have a little party for her. Oh, I see. Chair there if you like. Well, here, let me wipe it off. He spilled a drink on her. Probably Danny would spill a drink. Suppose you know about Andy Powell and Ms. Thompson. What happened this morning? What's that? About Andy Powell. You heard what happened this morning? Just what I read in the morning paper. They said he broke out of San Quentin, another man with him. It's true then. He did break out? Yes, ma'am. That's the information we have. There's an all-points bulletin out on him. Well, I don't want to get involved in it. It's none of my business. Andy doesn't mean anything to me. Well, at the time he was sent up, you were engaged to Powell. Is that right? Yes, but that was before he got into trouble, before he went to San Quentin. I saw him after the trial. I told him how I felt about it. I told him it wasn't any use. And you called it off, that it? It wasn't much else to do. It was robbery, five years to life. It wasn't the first time either. Andy knew it would be a long time, so he died. Really, I had to tell him. I had to call it off. We understand you were on Powell's correspondence list while he was up at Quentin. You wrote to him, did you? Yes, the first couple of months we haven't written lately, though. I wasn't any point to it, no point at all. Well, when was the last time you heard from Powell, Miss Thompson? The last time you wrote to him? Oh, eight or ten months. At least that. As I say, there wasn't much sense in going on. Andy knew he was in there for a long time. He couldn't expect me to wait all that time. Matter of fact, he said he didn't expect it. He told me that. You've been up to visit Powell recently, Miss Thompson? No. No, I haven't. Well, and you haven't seen him since he went up to Quentin. You'll swear to that? Why do I have to swear to what I already told you? Andy doesn't mean anything to me. It didn't make sense. It's all over. I'm not even a relative. Why do I have to swear to anything? You haven't seen Powell since he went up to Quentin, is that right? Miss Thompson, is that right? What if I saw him if I didn't see him? What difference does it make? It's none of my business. Well, did you see him, Miss Thompson? What difference does it make? I don't have anything to do with him. He doesn't mean anything to me. I told you. Did you see him? This morning. When? Late this morning, about 10.30. Was he alone? No, another man was with him. Who was the other man you recognized him? Bert Selby. It's the way you introduced him. He didn't try to hide it. Some fella broke out of jail with him. What'd they want? Why were they here? Clothes. Money. It looked like the devil, both of them terrible. What'd you give them? They asked for them. Not that silly. They didn't trust me anymore and they trust you. Andy had a knife. I tried to tell him I didn't have any money. He didn't believe me. He came at me with that knife. I gave him the money. How much? About $17, $18. Some loose change. They emptied my purse. They took it all. Anything else? Clothes. A couple of suits of my father's. He died last year. They took his gun, too. Never thought Andy'd be that way. It was terrible. What kind of a gun was it, Ms. Thompson? Quote Revolver 38, I think. They took that and closed the money. It was about 10.30 this morning. Malcolm, you didn't report that. You say you knew about the escape. You knew they were wanted, didn't you? Why should I? They warned me about it. They threatened me. They said they'd come back and get me if I told the police. Look, I don't want to get mixed up in this. I'm engaged to a nice fella now. We want to get married. I don't want to get mixed up in this. Andy Powell's nothing to me. Did you watch the two men when they left the house here? You noticed if they drove off in the car? No, I didn't. I just shut the door and prayed I was rid of them. Took my money, food, my dad's clothes. Don't make it any tougher, huh? Please. Well, it's not a question of that, man. We have to find them. We're going to need all the cooperation we can get. I told you everything I could, honestly. Said they'd come back and kill me if I even talked to you. I can't do anymore. I sure hope you don't find him. How's that? When Andy went out the door, it's the last thing he said. He said if the cops ever found him, there was going to be a fight. A terrible look on his face. Yeah. He said you'd never take him alive. The APB had come in a few minutes before 8 o'clock that morning. It was from the warden's office, San Quentin. The two suspects had been assigned to an early morning work detail at the penitentiary and they were first reported missing at the 7 a.m. count. Number one suspect was Andrew A. Powell, WMA, 29 years, 5'9", 175 pounds, brown hair, blue eyes, tan complexion. Suspect number two, Bertram O. Selby, WMA, 31 years, 5'11", 160 pounds, blonde hair, gray eyes, tan complexion. Both of them had long criminal records. Both of them had been serving time for armed robbery. They'd used guns before. We figured if they had to, they'd use them again. Before we left Powell's ex-girlfriend Ruth Thompson, we called the office and arranged for a 24-hour stakeout on her home in case the escaped prisoners returned. We also made arrangements for a stakeout at the downtown restaurant where she was employed as cashier. We passed along the information which the Thompson girl had given us and a broadcast and an APB was gotten out on the suspects. 4.05 p.m., Ed and I continued making the rounds of all unknown friends and associates of the escaped prisoners. We failed to come up with any more leads. 5.50 p.m., we went back to the city hall. Loud and up again, huh? Over there in the east? Yeah, paper says rain tonight and tomorrow we can sure use it. Oh, I can't. What's the matter? I haven't had a chance to get the shoemakers yet. Yeah, look at that. A hole in my shoe. I didn't mean to get them half-sold, I keep forgetting. Yeah, don't tell me that's the only pair of shoes you got. No, I got another pair at home. They're not comfortable though, not broken in. It's trouble with this job. What do you mean? Shoes, you get a new pair, start wearing them around, it happens every time. No sooner get the tops broken in, the soles wear out. It's a vicious circle. Yeah. All right. What's the work? No, hi, Jess. Anything in the book for us? You don't? I don't know. I don't think so. I'll check it. How'd your two make out, any luck? Well, not too bad, Jess. We know Powell and Selby were in town this morning. Good chance they're still here. Any kickback on that last all points we got out? Nothing so far. Gaffney and Ricketts are running down a couple of possibles right now. One of them might pan out. Nothing in the book, Joe. We're clear. Just saying yet on this Powell and Selby thing, got a couple of possibles we're checking on. Both calls came in the last hour. One was a hold-up, Olympic near Vermont. Ponchop there, two men pulled it off, slugged the owner, took clothes, money, 12-gauge shotgun. How about descriptions on a man? They seem to be fairly close. When I got over the phone, Gaffney and Ricketts are out talking to the victim. They took mugs of Powell and Selby along, waiting for their callback now. I said you had two calls. What was the other one? 211 and slugging out on Hollywood Boulevard just above Western. A couple of thieves knocked over a dry good store. Some take, clothes and money. The descriptions are pretty close there, too. Hollywood division's covering, waiting for their callback. Do you want a smoke? Whoa, thanks. Whoa, thanks. Thompson, girl, is the only one who had anything, huh? None of the others could help you out? Yeah, that's about the size of it. Apparently Powell doesn't have too many connections in town. Selby has even less. No more than a dozen names on that list. Were they Joe, friends, relatives? Or an even dozen. A couple of bars Powell was known to hang out when he was in town. Checked them out, too. Nothing. They sure made a beeline here after they broke Quinton. It's a good 500-mile stretch. They don't have the connections here to help them. Then what's the big attraction? Yeah. They could have some help lined up we don't know about. Somebody'd hide them out, keep them in groceries for a while. It's possible they're making a run for one of the border towns. Tijuana, Mexicali. Maybe Powell figured on more help than the Thompson girl. Clothes and money. Enough to get him and Selby over into Mexico, huh? She said all they got was $17. Had to cut corners to make it on that. Robert Gonzalez. Oh, yeah, Jack. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm, sure. Yeah, okay, fine, thanks. Bye. What do you got? Jack Ricketts. He and Gaffney just finished talking to the owner of the pawn shop that was held up, the one on Olympic. Well, they gave him a handful of mug shots to check. He tabbed two of them. Mm-hmm. Powell and Selby. Six thirty p.m., a supplementary broadcast and an APB was gotten out on the two suspects and the record bureau's photocopy room turned out 2,000 copies of Powell's and Selby's mug shot for distribution. At 9 p.m., a theater on Western Avenue was robbed of $192. Powell and Selby were again identified as the holdup men. The robbery victim, the manager of the theater, said that both men were armed. One with a 38 revolver, the other with a sawed-off shotgun. Neither the manager nor the two witnesses were able to tell us how the thieves got away from the scene of the crime if they were on foot or if they had a car. 11, 20 p.m., a hotshot call came through on a holdup at a liquor store in Delicatessen down on South Central Avenue. For the third time that night, Powell and Selby were identified from their mug shots as the holdup men. They'd used the same weapons, the revolver that they'd taken from the Thompson Girls' home and the shotgun that they picked up in the robbery of the Olympic Boulevard pawn shop. Again, the victims were unable to tell us how the suspects got away, whether on foot or by car. Midnight, 1 a.m., there were still no replies to supplementary broadcasts and bulletins which had been gotten out. 1, 25 a.m., another hotshot call came through this time on a holdup and a slugging at the 2050 Room, a small nightclub on West Ninth Street. Ed and I handled the call. For the fourth time, the bandits were identified as Powell and Selby and for the fourth time, they'd made good their escape. We interviewed the manager of the 2050 Roma Herman Saunders. Quite a few people in here at the time of the holdup, Mr. Saunders? Yeah, good for Thursday night, 30 or 40 anyway. We sure left in a hurry. This is the second time this year we've been knocked over. Insurance company isn't going to like it too much. Well, how much money did they take all together, you know? A little less than 600 from the cash register, mostly currency, some rolls of dimes and quarters. About a hundred and a half from my wallet. That's about it. They didn't take anything from the customers. Are you sure about that identification? Are you? There's no chance of a mistake there? I'm positive. I know Andy Paul anywhere. I should know him. Like I told you, he worked for me a year and a half. I was here at 2050? Yeah, he worked behind the bar. Good man, too. I don't get it at all. You mean why he went bad? Well, yeah, that, too. What I mean is if you're going to hold up a place you don't pick a joint where everybody knows you. I spotted Andy soon as I saw him at the bar, so a couple of the waiters. He wasn't wearing any kind of a mask. He didn't make any attempt to disguise himself? It's just that their biggest life, him and this other fella, didn't waste any time either. They pulled the guns, lined up everybody in the place and stood them against that wall over there. Real Wild West style. Took over the whole place. That could real wild, Andy and this other fella. Must be crazy. Nobody was hurt? Didn't slug anyone? I slapped a few of the customers around. I thought for a while they were really going to get rough. They had us lined up against the wall. Andy was acting tough. Had this knife with him, good four inch blade. Went right down the line jabbing people where they're threatening him. Must be out of his mind. You say he didn't take any money from the customers. Yeah, that's right. They worked it pretty fast. Emptied the cash register, then my wallet, then they beat it. Never so glad to see anybody go in my life. Well, how'd they get away? Do you have any idea on that? Old guy who sells papers down the corner, he says he thinks he saw a car pull away right after the stick-up. Said it was a blue sedan. Don't know how much stock you can put it. The old man's eyes aren't what they used to be. Do you know Paul pretty well when he was working here, Mr. Saunders? I mean, do you know any of his friends, people he used to run with? No, I didn't know him that well. He worked for me, that's all. I still have his old address, the place he was living when he worked for me. I can get it if you want. Yeah, if you would, please. Sure, no trouble. I just don't get it. Don't get it at all. Of all the joints in town he could have held up, he had to pick mine, the one place he'd be recognized. You think he'd have better sense, wouldn't you? He'd think so, yeah. How'd I ever hire a guy as dumb as that Paul, holding up the place he worked for? Biggest mistake you ever made. No, he made a bigger one yesterday. Yeah, what was that? Twenty broke prison. 205 a.m. Further investigation at the scene of the latest hold-up failed to turn up any new leads. While Ed and I checked on Powell's former address, which we'd gotten from the owner of the 2050 room, Gonzales, Ricketts and Gaffney continued checking the immediate neighborhood. In addition, a special detail from Metro Division was sent in to cover the entire area. The suspect's former address turned out to be a rooming house up on West Temple Street. The landlady remembered Andy Powell, but she had no forwarding address on him, and she could tell us nothing about his former friends and associates. We checked back with Gonzales, Ricketts and Gaffney, and they told us that besides the old newspaper vendor, the counterman at the coffee shop near the 2050 room had also spotted a blue sedan leaving the vicinity of the nightclub shortly after the hold-up. He was able to give them the make, the model, and a partial license number. A supplementary all points had been gotten out on it immediately, and the information relayed to DMV in auto theft detail. 3.10 a.m. Ed and I completed our assignment in the investigation and went back to the office to check for instructions from Captain Didion. Can't see how we'd be much use out on the street the way things stand now, can you? No, I don't. Everything's covered, I can think of. Supplementary all points is out. Detail for Metro is working in everything. It's funny, isn't it? What's that? Unless Andy Powell, going back to that place he used to work and holding it up, that doesn't make any sense at all, does it? That's for sure. Must have known somebody was going to recognize him. Couldn't have been a coincidence. That was only one way I can figure it. They don't care. Either one of them. They got their money now. A car. They both got guns. They're out to go as far as they can. Oh, hi, Jess. Hi. You just get back in? Hi, Joe. Hi. You as tired as you sound? Worse. Fair piece of news, though. Yeah, what's that? Powell and Selby. They just found their hideout. After three hours of canvassing the general downtown area, particularly in the vicinity of the last holdup, a team of men working with a special detail from Metropolitan Division interviewed a desk clerk in a small hotel on South Broadway who recognized the suspect's mug shots. The two of them had registered early the morning before under the names J.E. Dennis and Harold Thompson, both from Fresno, California. The hotel room was searched and two San Quentin inmate uniforms were found stuffed under the mattress of the bed. After the room was processed for fingerprints, there was no doubt that the recent occupants were Powell and Selby. The clerk had no idea when they were supposed to return. The hotel was staked out immediately and the city-wide search for the escaped prisoners went on. The following day, Thursday, October 7th, 11.30 a.m., still no sign of the suspects, no further reports or leads as to their whereabouts. The search went on. Ed and I signed back in at the office. Ten minutes later, a long-distance phone call came in for us. When was that, Mort? What's that? Yeah, close enough, right? We'll let you know, yeah. Bye. Mort Gere down to San Diego. Yeah, what do you want? One of the traffic officers was checking a car about 8 o'clock this morning, 586 parking. Mm-hmm. Blue sedan fits close to the description of the escape car. That's a pretty common model, isn't it? Do you see anything else? Traffic man checked the inside of the car. I found half a dozen rows of dives and quarters. Same name stamped on all of them. Yeah, 2050 room. You are listening to Dragnet. Authentic stories of your police force in action. Comparison proves Fatima quality. Prove Fatima quality yourself today. Compare Fatima with any other king-size cigarette. 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October 7th, Thursday, 1 p.m. After we got the report from Lieutenant Mort Geer that the escape car along with a few dollars of the stolen money had been located in San Diego that morning, Ed and I had a meeting with Captain Didion. It was beginning to look like our first hunch was right. Powell and Selby's 24-hour campaign of hold-ups in the Los Angeles area had netted them a fresh change of clothes and more than enough money to live on for a while. With the locating of the escape car in San Diego, it looked like the suspects were apparently taking the next logical step, a fast move over the international border into Mexico, a distance of less than 20 miles from San Diego. Probably they figured once over the line they had a good chance of losing themselves. 1.40 p.m. On Captain Didion's orders, Jess Gonzalez, Ed and I got in the car and headed south for San Diego with a supply of mug shots of the escaped prisoners. We got there a few minutes after 4 p.m. We went directly to the San Diego PD where we contacted Sergeant Tony McGuire, robbery detail. Tough week, huh? They've been driving you crazy up there. Just about Tony, four robberies in 24 hours giving us a run. How about more gear? Yeah, he just went down the hall, Jess. I ought to be back in a minute. I want you for a sit-down. Thanks very much. What's the latest, Tony? Anything since you picked up that blue sit-down? No, not much. Got the car in the impound, had a dust of a prince. We made him all right. What about Powell and Selby? No sign of them around town? No, I've got it pretty well covered too. Not a trace. We're in a good spot to make it over into Mexico. Hate to disappoint you. What do you mean? We think they already made it. At 6 o'clock that night, Gonzalez, Ed and I together with Lieutenant Gear, Tony McGuire and Sergeant's Gaetan and Schultz drove south from San Diego to the international line. We left mug shots of Powell and Selby with the immigration officers at the entry gate. Then we drove into the town of Tijuana, contacted the local commandant of police, and he promised us full cooperation. He assigned a special detail of his men to work with us in covering the town. At 8 p.m., the block-by-block canvas of the city began. Every back alley, every bar, every restaurant, every hotel, they were all checked. The tourist attractions, the souvenir stands, the night clubs, the highlight pavilion. We went straight through on it, 8 o'clock that night until 5 o'clock the next morning. All it got us was sore feet and a mediocre lead from a native taxi driver. After being shown the mug shots, he told one of the Mexican officers in the detail that about noon that day, he picked up two Americans resembling Powell and Selby and driven them to the town of Takati, another Mexican tourist spot about 25 miles to the east. 10.30 a.m., we drove over and checked with the police at Takati, and they told us the two Americans had arrived in the town that morning. He invited Jess Gonzalez to go along with the three of his men to the hotel where the men were supposed to be staying. Ed and I waited in the office. Hi. Hi, Jess. What do you got? Not much. Went over to the hotel. The two men weren't there. Desklerk says they told him they were driving out to a little village about a mile from here. Police coming down asked me to come back here and wait. He said he and his men would drive out to the village and check the men out. That seems a little funny, doesn't it? Well, he didn't invite me to come along. It's not a good idea to push him on me, after all, it's his jurisdiction. We're supposed to wait here till they get back? Yeah. We might be him now. See, police here? Uh-huh, yeah. Let's see, see. About half an hour, yes, sir? All right, gracias. Goodbye, sir. The commandant, he and his men found the two Americans. Yeah. No go, they're not Powell and Selby. Half an hour later, the police commandant of Takati returned to the station along with his men and the two American tourists in question. One look at them and we knew we'd made the trip from Tijuana for nothing. Except for their build and the color of their hair, the two Americans bore little or no resemblance to Powell and Selby. 2.30 p.m., we headed back for Tijuana and we checked in with Mort Geer and the rest of the men. While we'd been gone, they'd chased down half a dozen leads, but none of them had panned out. The rest of the afternoon, we covered the racetrack at Agua Caliente and distributed mug shots of the suspects to all track police officers. The mutual windows were covered, and also the foreign book. No luck. The six of us took time out for a bite of supper and we talked it over. Logically, the next place in line to cover was either the fishing town of Ensenato on the coast or the city of Mexicali, further inland. We decided to try Ensenato first. 7.30 p.m. that night, we checked in at the Ensenato police station where we met with the local sub-commandant, Pedro Martinez. Like the other commandants in Tijuana and Tecate, he offered full cooperation and gave us a special detail of men to aid in the search. We gave him a supply of mug shots of the two convicts to distribute among his men. Here you are, sir. These are pictures of one of them, Andrew Powell. This one here is the other man, Bert Selby. All right, thank you. Juan? Juan! Si. Si. Que es? These pictures, Juan. Criminals. They are for distribution to the men, one each. Si, si. Estas son sombres? Si, si, por que? Un momento, un momento. Si. Excuse me, officers. Yeah, sorry. Go ahead. Joe, what is? It's got me, I don't know. See the look on his face on the chief's shirt and the mug shots? He's got something on his mind. Let's wait a minute. Officers, I hope you'll excuse me. Yes, sir, anything wrong? My assistant, Teniente San Filippo. He says he knows the pictures of these men. Oh, how's that? He says he saw these men this morning here in Ensenada. Yeah, he's sure about that, is he? Yes, sir. He says he's sure. He says the two men were here last night right here in the station. You mean your men booked them in? They committed some kind of crime? Oh, no, sir. They came in to report a crime. 8.20 p.m. On further questioning, the assistant to the Ensenada commandant of police told us that the night before, two men answering calls and Selby's description had come in to file a complaint at the central police station. They charged that they'd had their pockets picked at a local bar while they were under the influence of alcohol. The two complainants, who matched Powell's and Selby's descriptions perfectly, signed themselves J.E. Dennis and Harold Thompson, both from Fresno, California, the same names and addresses that had been used by the occupants of the Southside Los Angeles hotel room where the discarded prison uniforms had been found a day and a half before. After a while, after a brief talk with the police commandant, he dispatched a special detail to go out and pick up the two men registered as Dennis and Thompson at a motel near the south end of the city. At the commandant's request, we remained at the office, 9 p.m., 9.30. The detail assigned to the job returned, but with only one of the suspects with him, Andrew Powell. While resisting arrest, the other suspect identified as Selby received a cut forward and was being taken to a local clinic for treatment. The commandant briefed us on what had happened. The rooms were searched, Officer Friday. Some money was found. Also, two guns. A revolver and a shotgun. Here they are. All right, thanks very much, sir. Well, Powell, how about it? You ready to cop out? What are you talking about? Cop out. Would you guys come all the way down here for anyway? You can't touch us. What makes you think we can't? You can't, that's all. You know better. You can't arrest us down here. No jurisdiction. We didn't arrest you, Powell. The Mexican officers did. Okay, fine. Now, how do you expect to get us out of Mexico? Yes, again, Copper. You know you can't do it. You haven't got the right to. Maybe. You want to tell us where you have the loot, the money you took in those hold-ups? Why should I? Look, why don't you admit it? We got you beat. We got over the line. You can't touch us down here. Don't bet on that, mister. Comment down? Yes, sir. You want to tell them how it stands? I will see that the general in charge of the Northern District is notified in the morning of your case. He will see that you and your partner are deported. What are you trying to pull? You can't do that. You know it. It's illegal. So is robbery, Powell. Come up. It doesn't make any difference. You can't touch us in Mexico. It's against the law. You can't touch us. I'm afraid you have made a mistake. If you like, you can pass the word. How long would it be for us to receive the prisoners at the line, sir? I don't know. A long time, I think. Maybe as long as one o'clock tomorrow. You know you can't do this. You'll never get away with it. I know a lawyer until you want to get him to straighten it out. You understand, Sergeant. We can't hand this man over to you now. But if you will be at the international border at one o'clock tomorrow, I'm sure they'll be crossing over. You can't do this. It's illegal. You know you can't do it. We're going to try. At least in your time, why don't you admit it? You can't arrest us. We got over the line. You can't arrest us. You know it. You know that, don't you? There's only one thing I know for sure, pal. Yeah? San Quentin. You got out and you're going back. The story you have just heard was true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On December 9th, trial was held in Superior Court, Department 87, City and County of Los Angeles, State of California. In a moment, the results of that trial. Now, here is our star, Jack Webb. Thank you, George Fenerman. Friends, try a pack of Fatimas tomorrow and compare them yourself. We're so sure that you'll enjoy Fatimas extra mild and soothing smoke that will give you your money back if you don't enjoy Fatima more than the king-size cigarettes you've been smoking. Now, in my opinion, nothing proves our confidence in Fatima more than that. So buy a pack tomorrow. I know you'll agree with me that Fatima is the best of all king-size cigarettes. That in Fatima, the difference is quality. Andrew Powell and Bertram Selby were deported from Mexico as undesirable aliens and returned over to U.S. authorities at the international border. They were immediately arrested by police officers on the American side and returned to Los Angeles for trial. They pled guilty to four counts of first-degree robbery and received sentences as prescribed by law. First-degree robbery is punishable by a prison term of from five years to life. After being returned to San Quentin, Powell and Selby were filed on, tried and convicted of escape. Both of them are now serving life terms in the state penitentiary, Represa, California. For their cooperation in preparing tonight's broadcast, Dragnet wishes to thank Chief of Police Adam E. Janssen and the San Diego Police Department. You have just heard Dragnet, a series of authentic cases from official files. Technical advice comes from the office of Chief of Police W. H. Parker, Los Angeles Police Department. Technical advisors Captain Jack Donahoe, Sergeant Marty Wynn, Sergeant Vance Brasher. Heard tonight were Barney Phillips, with Connor Herbellus. Script by Jim Moser. Music by Walter Schumann. Hell, give me speaking. Fatima Cigarettes. Best of all, King-sized cigarettes has brought you Dragnet, transcribed from Los Angeles. Now, it's Counter Spy on NBC.