 Ladies and gentlemen, Fatima Cigarettes is proud to bring you its prize-winning radio program. Winner of the Motion Picture Herald Fame Award. 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 dragnet. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned to juvenile bureau. You receive a complaint about an eight-year-old boy and his sister. On neighbor reports they've been going from door to door begging for food. Supposedly the children are from well-to-do parents. Your job? Investigate. You'll be amazed when you compare Fatima with other long cigarettes. You'll find they now cost the same. But in Fatima, the difference is quality. You see, Fatima is the quality king-size cigarette. Because it contains the finest Turkish and domestic tobaccos superbly blended. And Fatima is extra mild. With a much different, much better flavor and aroma than any other long cigarette. So compare Fatima yourself. Fatima's now cost the same as other long cigarettes, but your first puff will tell you... Ah, that's different. Yes, in Fatima, the difference is quality. Ask your dealer for Fatima, the quality king-size cigarette. Best of all, long cigarettes. Start enjoying Fatima tomorrow. Dragnet, 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, Dragnet is the story of your police force in action. It was Tuesday, April 27th. It was overcast in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out at Juvenile Bureau. My partner's Ben Romero. The boss is Captain Kinsling. My name's Friday. I was on the way back in communications. It was 4.38 p.m. when I got to 1335 Georgia Street. Second floor, room 14. Hi, Jill. Been waiting a long time. I just checked on the record. No, I just got here. What's this thing all about? Well, just what I told you on the phone. A seven-year-old boy and his sister covering the neighborhood bagging food. You ready to go? Yeah, let me put this away first. Kids are supposed to be from a wealthy family, huh? Well, wealthy enough to live in the best part of Bell Area. It doesn't make much sense. Must be some kind of a gag, huh? No, not according to the neighbor who called in. Yeah? She says the kids are half-starved. Ben and I got in the car and drove out Sunset Boulevard to the Bell Area District. We pulled up in front of a large two-story home near the corner of Brookline Avenue and Knightsbridge Drive. It was a white-brained colonial mansion set back in the middle of well-landscape lawns and gardens. The other homes in the neighborhood were just as large. $50,000 and up. It was the last place in the city that you'd expect to find neighborhood children bagging food. 5.20 p.m. We went around to the rear entrance of the colonial mansion as we'd been instructed on the phone. We located the woman who called in the complaint from Miss Jeanette Bay-Jean. She was employed as laundress and cooked by the owners of the house. She was busy fixing dinner. They're from next door, officer. The children. As I explained on the phone, a boy about 7 years, a girl 5 years old, I guess. Which side do they live on, Miss Bay-Jean? The house on the corner? No, the other side. Up here. A brown and white house just up the street next door. Are the children there now? Do you know that? No, but they were here this afternoon again. Here to the back door asking for something to eat. I don't understand it. Something must be wrong. Well, have they been around often, Miss Bay-Jean? Two or three days. Maybe four days. At first I thought they were fooling, but they were not. I gave them some cookies, sandwiches. They were very hungry. They ate them like they were starving. The little girl saved her cookies. She took them with her. How about their parents? Are they at home? Excuse me. They're sad. Sit there. No, I haven't seen the mother the last few days. I understand they are divorced. The mother, she lives there with the children. The father, I don't know. What's their name, do you know? Kessler. Madam, as a woman I work for. She says there are three children in the Kessler family. But I don't know. I have only seen the two. The boy and the girl. I would go over and see what is wrong, but I do not know the Kessler. It is not my place. That's why I called you, officer. All right, Miss Bay-Jean. Well, thank you very much. Not at all, officer. You understand. I do not mind giving the children food. Well, I think only if something is wrong, they do not get it at home. Well, thank you very much for notifying us. Just a little curious, Miss Bay-Jean. What's that you're making? This? Napoléon. How's that? Napoléon. You know. Napoléon, pastry. Oh, oh, yeah. It smells good. Well, thanks again. Oh, certainly, officer. If there is anything I can do, you will let me know. Yes, ma'am, we will. Goodbye. Goodbye. Thank you very much. That's a beautiful place. Yeah. Those sweetest women make pretty good cooks, don't they? I don't know. She sounded French to me. Huh? Maybe so. Most good at cooking, anyhow. Yeah. Down in White House next door, that must be it, huh? Is that named Kessler? Are you fairly prominent around town, society? I don't know. There's quite a few of them. Could be. I mean, when you look at it, it's hard to figure in it. Kids have been at it for four days. It's on a level they really must be in a bind. The garage door is open back there. No sign of a car. Kids' bicycles, huh? Let's try at the front door, huh? We'll try again, huh? Yes, sir. Hello, son. Your name's Kessler, all right? Yes, I'm Richard. My mother's not home right now. Maybe we can come back tomorrow. Poor police officers, Richard, if you're not busy, we'd like to talk to you for a minute. Is that all right? Oh, yes, sir. That'd be all right. Would you come in, please? Thank you. Richard Kessler was a blonde-haired, wary boy, polite, well-mannered. He told us that he was eight years old, and he attended the neighborhood grammar school. He showed us back to the kitchen where he was warming a can of soup that he borrowed from a neighbor. It was a large house, richly furnished, but it hadn't been cleaned for weeks. Dust was piled up to pick on the furniture, and children's books and toys were scattered around the rooms, along with scraps of dried bread half-eaten. The house was cold and musty. On a small bar in the dining room, there were three half-filled cocktail glasses and a plate full of cigarette butts. Evidently, they'd been standing there for days. On the sink in the kitchen there were a few pieces of stale bread and an open bottle of milk that had turned sour. Next to it were a half-eaten empty whiskey bottle. The Kessler boy was well-dressed, except for the shirt that he had on. Looks as if he'd been wearing it for a week. What did you want to talk to me about, officer? I haven't done anything wrong. Oh, we know that. Son, we'd just like to find out how you've been getting along. I've been getting along all right to raise me four bees on my report card last month. Mm-hmm. Where's your sister, Dick? Judy, she's down the street. She'll be back in a minute. How about your mother? Where's she? Uh, she's out, too. She'll be back. Who'd you expect us now? Pretty soon. She's coming back pretty soon. Oh, your sister Judy. She's younger than you are. Isn't she, Dick? Uh, yes. Judy's only six. I made. Any other grown-ups live here with you beside your mother? No. Mom takes care of us. She'll be back pretty soon. We'd like to have you tell us the truth now, Dick. How long has she been gone? I don't know. It's probably important. She's been here a long time. She can come back tomorrow. She'll probably be here then. When was the last time you saw her, huh? Son, how about then? A couple of days ago. Well, this is Tuesday. You mean she left the house Sunday? No, before that. Last Friday night, she went out. Said she'd be back. I don't know. Did your mother say where she was going, Dick? No, her boyfriend was here. Man, I don't know his last name. Mom would always tell him to party, I think. I don't know where. She'll be back all right. Did you leave anyone to take care of? No, we can take care of ourselves. Somebody's fixed the cooking, though. I don't know how yet. I'd better look at the soup on the stove. I'll take care of it, son. Go ahead. Sit down. Has your mother ever left you like this before, for her? Maybe once or twice. She never stayed away this long, no? I don't know. What's the matter, Dick? Well, Johnny also, my little brother, hasn't eaten much for a while. Must be hungry by now. I was fixing the soup for him. Yeah, well, where's Johnny? He's upstairs in the nursery. He's been sick with a bad cold. Mom knew Johnny was sick. That's why I wondered. She hasn't come back yet. I don't think Johnny's feeling good. Do you want to take a step forward, son? Yeah, all right. See you out. How long has Johnny had this cold, Dick? A couple of days before Friday. My mom left. How old is he? Johnny's just a little kid. He won't be two years old until he's a lot. I've been wondering about him. He passed a lot at first. I've been giving him milk and cookies. I said, Judy and I had. I don't know. Has a doctor been to see Johnny? No, I thought of calling him. I didn't know the doctor's name. I was waiting till mom got home. I don't know if Johnny's in here. Mm-hmm. I'm in the crib, officer. That's my brother, Johnny. He's pretty cold in here. He's having a lot of fun. Hi, Johnny. Are you hungry now? Yeah, look at his eyes. I want to get to a phone doctor and tell him to hurry. What's the matter, officer? What about Johnny's eyes? He'll be all right, Dick. He's been acting awful quiet. He hardly moved around at all. Most of the time, he's jumping up and down his crib like anything. Has anyone at all been in here to see him since Friday? Yes, ma'am. That's it. Judy and I, we changed our diapers and we gave him something to eat. I see. Yeah, I sure wish mom would get home. I'd like to talk to her. Yeah, so would I. 5.48 p.m., we put in a call to the office for a policewoman. Then we got in touch with Lieutenant Lee Jones at the crime lab. And he sent out a man to photograph the condition of the Kessler home and the children. The doctor and the ambulance arrived, and little Johnny Kessler was taken to the general hospital in critical condition. The 22-month-old boy was in a coma. Richard Kessler and his sister Judy were taken to Georgia Street Juvenile Bureau and then transferred to Juvenile Hall and placed under protective custody, section 700 sub-B, welfare and institution codes. The two of them were given a bath and something to eat. Judy Kessler was interrogated separately by a policewoman. Ben and I talked to the boy, Richard. After a few minutes, he broke down and admitted that his mother had gone off and left the three children alone on at least a half a dozen occasions. He told us his parents were divorced. He rarely saw his father, but his mother had had two or three boyfriends at the house during the past year. He also told us his mother drank quite a bit. But she's never been gone this long before, Sergeant. Maybe she's out somewhere and has no way to get home. We'll find her all right, son. Don't you worry about it. Well, this boyfriend of your mother's, Dick. His first name was Larry. Is that all you can tell us? Yes, sir. I don't know exactly. Are you going to keep it here all night, Judy and me? Yes, for a day or so. That'll take good care of you, huh? Why did you take Judy? Well, she's just next door, Dick. You can see her in just a minute now. And, uh, how about Johnny? I always take care of him. He's fussy, Ron's changing. Well, they've got him over at the hospital, Dick. They're going to take good care of him now. You can count on that. I don't know, officer. I'd better see him. He might get awful fussy. All right. We'll fix that up for you. Do you have any relatives in Los Angeles, son, aunts, uncles, anyone like that? No, just my father, but I don't know where he lives. Well, we had a nurse who used to take care of us. This is Mackintosh. She was squirrel. My mom fired her. Oh, how'd that happen to you, no? No, I'm not quite sure. Maybe my mom was thinking, is Mackintosh got mad at her? Or did he fight mom fired her? Oh, no, this may be Mackintosh. You know where we can find him. No, I don't. How about, uh, some of the other boyfriends that your mother had, Dick? Do you remember any of their names? No, one of them was George Duncan. I don't remember the other one. Yo, are you in there? Yeah, I'm there. You want to stay with the boy, huh, then? Yeah. That's the loudest thing. Well, what's that? The Kessler boy, little Johnny. Yeah, just died. John Albert Kessler, white male American, aged 22 months. All the pertinent facts and data would be listed on the crime report. And if and when the case was closed, the report would be filed away. Wouldn't be any different from a thousand other dead body reports. Same size, same color, same number up in the left-hand corner. In the course of 10 or 20 years on the Java, police officers sees a lot of them. Most of them forget, few of them will never forget. The next morning, the body was posted to County Moorgate. It was found that the youngster had been suffering from malnutrition but the cause of death was listed as a basal skull fracture. Homicide detail was notified. The search for the mother, Mrs. Jean Kessler, went on. We talked to her neighbors. All of her friends that we could locate. We checked out an address book that was found in Mrs. Kessler's effects at her home. We got out of broadcast and an APB. No luck. 3rd of April, 29th. How about the instance, brother and sister Ben? You think could have happened that way? How do you mean? Well, we were taking care of the little fella. They might have had an accident with him. They're afraid to own up to it. I don't think so, Joe. No, I thought very likely, Mac. We talked a little quite a bit last night. A couple of pretty honest kids. Pretty sure that they wouldn't lie about something like that. Where does that leave at the money? Good possibility. We normally just catch their drinks quite a bit. We could have lost patience with a little boy. More chance of an accident there. I get it. You were a little Friday. Yeah, bird. Bird there? Well, right there. Yeah? Woman answering Ms. Kessler's description. Checked into the hotel down on South Hope last night. Joe registered? I checked out earlier this morning. We found a woman's sport coat in the room. What about it? Blood stains on it. You are listening to Dragnet. For the step-by-step solution to tonight's authentic case history. Here, step-by-step, are the actual reasons why Fatima is the quality king-sized cigarette. Why in Fatima? The difference is quality. Quality of tobacco. The finest domestic and Turkish varieties. Extra mild and superbly blended to give you a much different, much better flavor and aroma. Quality of manufacture. Smooth, round, perfect cigarette. Rolled in the finest paper money can buy. Manufactured in the newest and most modern of all cigarette factories. Quality even to the appearance of the bright, clean, golden yellow package. Carefully wrapped and sealed to bring you Fatima's rich, fresh, extra mild flavor. Compare Fatima yourself. Fatima's now cost the same as other long cigarettes, but your first puff will tell you. Ah, that's different. Yes, in Fatima, the difference is quality. Start enjoying Fatima quality yourself. Insist on Fatima. The quality king-sized cigarette. Best of all, long cigarette. Friday, April 30th. We were still without a lead as to the whereabouts of the missing mother, Mrs. Jean Kessler. The bloodstained coat which had been found in the South Hope Street hotel was shown to Mrs. Kessler's friends and to her children, Richard and Judy. They identified it as belonging to the missing woman. Routine investigation of the hotel room failed to uncover any further leads. We got out of supplementary APB and then we started rechecking with the Kessler woman's friends and acquaintances. Nothing. We rechecked a dozen taverns and cocktail lounges that she'd been known to frequent. No sign of her. No sign of her boyfriend. In rechecking her personal effects, we found a careful check payable to their former nurse, Mrs. McIntyre. The endorsement carried her abject. We checked it out. She'd moved. We traced it to the forwarding address. There we were told that she had a new job as a nurse made with a wealthy family living in the Los Felic District. We called there and talked to Mrs. McIntyre and she told us that she was just leaving the house with the three children for an outing at the park in the zoo. We made arrangements to meet with her out there. 1.30 p.m. Then I located her as the head of the path leading through the main part of the Griffith Park Zoo. I read about it in the paper charging about Johnny. I didn't know you wanted to talk to me. I would have called in if I did. We're still trying to locate the mother, Mrs. McIntyre. Can you help us out there, though? No, I don't know. We asked for those places she used to go to all the time and she used to drink. Yes, ma'am, we have. They couldn't help it. Did you know any of Miss Kessler's boyfriends or ones that had come to the house? Yes, I knew all of them. Donald, don't you wander off now. Same for you, Patsy. Stay close. The boy Richard, he was telling us about one of the boyfriends. May I follow name of Larry? Oh, yes. Donald, you heard what I said. You stay close. Yes, I knew Larry. You remember what his last name was, ma'am? Yes, Bartel, some kind of an actor in the movies, I think. Well, he's Bartel. In a way, no? No, I think he had an apartment in Hollywood. I wouldn't know the address. What kind of a man was it, Bartel? I mean his temperament and things like that. Well, I think he was kind of lazy. I think Miss Kessler was giving me money. Did the two of them ever argue or have any fights? All the time. You had a terrible temper. Do you ever strike, Miss Kessler? Yes. I saw it happen several times. Not too close to the cage, Donald. Back a little. How did this Bartel act toward the children, Mrs. McIntyre? Different, I guess. Annoying, sometimes. Well, that was after that you had the argument with Miss Kessler? Yes. It was about her drinking and the boyfriend and all the rest. I just got sick of it and I told her what I thought. She didn't want to admit she was getting old. Not fairings of the children. The attorneys were still in their 20s. Well, do you have any idea where my little piece of fire is? Well, they divorced, you know. They had failed them for a lumber to return downtown. He inherited most of his money. I have the name of the company at home. You can have it if you like. Yes, ma'am. We appreciate that. Well, it's the children. I feel sorry for them. Yes, ma'am. Three beautiful children. And that poor little Johnny, I just can't understand. What's that? How could anyone deserve a helpless baby like that? Well, I asked his mother. Friday, 5 p.m., Mrs. McIntosh called us at the office and gave us the business address of the missing woman's ex-husband, Richard Lane Kessler. We called there, but they told us Kessler was away on a week's vacation. They had no idea where to contact him, but he was expected back in a few days. We called Central Casting and asked them to check their talent list for a bit planer by the name of Laurie Barchel. They had no such name listed. Saturday, 8 a.m., the Kessler children, Richard and Judy, remained in the custody of juvenile authorities. The search for their mother continued. All day Saturday, Ben and I ran down what few leads we had. They went nowhere. We checked for them more in the city hospitals and the drunk tank at the main jail still failed to turn up the missing woman. We checked again at the different drinking places she used to patch her name. No one had seen it. 5.30 p.m. we went back to the office. A lot of money today. There's not much to show for it. There's not going to be much fun for those Kessler children's Sunday. What do you mean? First Sunday, man. Sure. Mother's day. Oh, yeah. Hi, man. Hi. Got a piece of news for you? Yes. It's a woman's boyfriend, Larry Barchel. What about a piece from the locator? When he seen his name mentioned the previous night in the newspaper stories concerning the case, Larry Barchel had contacted the office to let us know that he didn't consider himself a fugitive. At least that was his story. He called just a few minutes before we got back to the office. He left word that he could be found at a wheelchair address all day Sunday. In the meantime, he'd be at the spotlight spot in the clubs with theatrical people located in West Hollywood. 6.25 p.m. Ben and I located him at the club back in the vineyard room. It was tall, dark-haired, dressed expensively. So the cop when I called in, you weren't supposed to contact me. That was important. That little cat that boy's dead, Barchel. We think that's pretty important. I didn't know anything about that. You didn't have to interrupt me. That's an important man I was playing with. Now, what do you want to know? Where's this cat that? Well, why ask me? I don't know. You're a pretty good friend of hers. You were the last person to see her, right? Well, it was a week ago. We went out to a party last Friday night. I haven't seen her since the following Monday. Yeah, last Monday. I'm thrilled with her anyway. Well, the truth. I just got sick of her. That's all. Paul and all over me asking me to marry her. I got sick of her. It wasn't worth it. Don't tell me of it. Why not? Where'd you last see her? Keep your horses down. I wouldn't like this stuff to get around the club. There's a hotel downtown on South Park. I'd like to get it again. Were you at another hotel with Miss Ketter last week? Yeah. Yeah, on South Hope. Brown Main Street, I mean. Oh, that's where you find a coat, huh? You've got an explanation for that? Bud's thing? Sure. Crazy thing. Tell her I saw her then. She tried to hit me in the bottle. Cut herself. Well, I tell you, it just wasn't worth it. That's all. I guess you can prove everything you're telling yourself. Of course I can prove it. It's the truth. And it wasn't about the little boy, huh? That happened. I didn't have anything to do with it. It wasn't my fault. Well, that's how it happens, man. That Friday night, she's fully left the house. You're living out downstairs, having a few drinks. She put the little kid to bed, and he went to stay there. He's just getting up out of bed and running around, and staying there just crying. Yeah, come on. Well, I actually finally took the kid to get him to get to the bank and throw him back in bed. I think he hit his head in one of the posters, Chris. Why didn't he do something about it? Well, I told him it. He said it was nothing. Got a coach? Why is that so? Kids are all writing with less. You know, all the time, you and Mrs. Kessler went out. She knew those children were being left all alone in the house. Oh, what? Out of cheese, the mother-in-law of me. Oh, look, I gotta get back. I'll get that game with you. Oh, no, no, no, no. It's gonna wait a little longer. Come on. Larry Bartell was taken downtown and held for questioning on suspicion of 702WIC, contributing to negligence of minors. He gave us the address and he said, I don't know. He said, I don't know. He said, I don't know. He gave us the address of the hotel where he'd last seen Mrs. Kessler. Ben and I checked it out. It was a typical cheap downtown hotel with a bar opening off the lobby. The desk clerk told us a woman answering Mrs. Kessler's description was registered in the room on the second floor. They had an old-fashioned player piano going full volume in the bar. The sound followed us up the stairs. Kevin, here's your must-like music. Yeah. Back to there. Let's keep the scene. Yeah. Let's have a look. You and Mrs. Jean Kessler? What is it? Who are you? Police officers. I'd like to talk to you. I haven't done anything. What do you want with me? I want to talk to you about your children, Mrs. Kessler. But I didn't do anything. Johnny was sick, that's all. I didn't do anything. That's not what Bartel said. Now? Have you seen him? Is he coming back to me? You better get up, lady. Check the coast. I gotta have Lally back. He's everything to me. I love him. Is he coming back? You've been gone over a week, aren't you? A little worried about your children? All right. I'm too youngest in my life on children. I need Larry, where is he? See if you can find a coat. Look at that. Yeah. I've been checking officers. I felt terrible. Yeah. I need Larry so bad. He's young like me. Loving. I gave him all my love. I gave him every bit of it. Yeah, you gave him too much. What? He didn't have any left for your kids. The story you've just heard was true. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent. On July 2nd, 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. Friends, if you're with us week to week, you've heard me say, in Fatima, the difference is quality. It's a difference that you can prove just by buying a pack and smoking it. You'll find Fatima's extra mild, with a rich, better flavor and aroma. Stop in at the store in the corner and buy a pack of Fatima's the first chance you get. You'll find in Fatima's the difference is quality. Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to take a moment to thank all of you for your very fine response to our program, Dragnet. Since the first show went on the air about a year and a half ago, your cards and letters have been a constant source of encouragement and guidance. In the field of radio presentations, we felt that we were attempting something a little different. We were not altogether sure that it would meet with your approval. Possibly, we were sure that our approach to this type of presentation was a sound one, but the final approval had to rest with you. If we may judge by your response, you've placed Dragnet high among the programs that you enjoy most. For this, we're indeed grateful. We've tried to bring you first of all an adult program, worthy of the 30 minutes that you spend with us each week. We've tried to bring you an honest and authoritative report on the work of your police force. We've tried to bring before you documented police cases that were informative as well as entertaining. In forthcoming weeks, we sincerely hope that Dragnet remains one of your favorite shows. Your letters have been read by all members of the Dragnet production staff. So if you like to listen to Dragnet, it's because you, our listeners, have helped to guide us in presenting the kind of entertainment that you want. For this, our thanks. Mrs. Jean Kessler was filed on and found guilty in Superior Court charge of manslaughter. She was sentenced to one year in the county jail and deprived of the custody of her children. 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. Fatima cigarettes. Best of all, long cigarettes and brought to Dragnet. Portions transcribed from Los Angeles. Now stay tuned for Cutters 5 and it's Screen Directors Playhouse on in...