 The story you're 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 homicide detail. A small boy is reported missing from his home. His age, nine years. Follow play is suspected. Your job, find him. If you want a long cigarette, smoke the best of long cigarettes. Smoke Fatima. Fatima is the long cigarette which contains the finest Turkish and domestic tobaccos, superbly blended to make Fatima extra mild. And that's why Fatima has a much different, much better flavor and aroma than any other long cigarette. That's why Fatima is doubling and redoubling its smokers. So, if you want a long cigarette, smoke the best of all long cigarettes. Smoke Fatima. 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 from official police files. From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, dragnet is the story of your police force in action. It was Thursday, December 22nd. It was cold in Los Angeles. We were working the night watch out of homicide. My partner's Ben Romero. The boss is Thad Brown, chief of detectives. My name's Friday. I was on the way into work and it was 3.55 p.m. when I got to room 42, homicide. Hi, Joe. Ben, what's doing? Oh, pretty quiet. How's your mother? Oh, that cold's still hanging on bad cough. Doc says it's nothing serious. My kids got the same thing. There'll be some kind of a virus going around. Yeah. Is that a new suit you got on? Oh, yeah. Mom figured I needed one. Let me see. Oh, yeah. That's nice shade of blue. Where'd you get it? Quincy's down in South Fig. Look okay. Oh, yeah. That's a good fit. Did you get all the reports on the Webster case yet? Yeah. I'll take care of it. Let me get it. Homicide, Friday. Yeah, Harry, what's doing? What's the story? How long has he been gone? How do you figure? Yeah, we checked over the yard. Find anything? Ben and I left a message for Chief of Detective Stad Brown, and we went over to the crime lab, picked up Lieutenant Lee Jones and drove out the Arroyo Seco freeway to Collis Avenue. It was an average neighborhood. Number 4656 was a one-story green stucco residence situated on the corner of Collis Avenue in Harrison Drive. Beyond the backyard was a tract of undeveloped land covered with scrub oak. A man named Levinson from Highland Park Juvenile was waiting for us in front of the house. Back this way, fellas. I'm coming, Link. Wait till I get my bag. Okay. Who notified you that the boy was missing, Harry? The mother said she went out to do some Christmas shopping about 11 this morning, left the boy home. She came back about 2 this afternoon, he was gone. What's the name? Johnstone. The kid's name is Stanley, 9 years old. Was this gate open like this when you got here? Oh, yeah. I haven't touched this thing. Here are the stains over here, Lieutenant Jones. Along the edge of the walk, see? Yeah. Let me see. Quite a few stains, huh? Looks like it might be blood. I'll try some benzodine on these spots here. There we are. See what happens? Where's the kid's mother now, Harry? In the house, Darn, he's talking to her. Did you talk to any of the neighbors? People next door. One's on this side. They couldn't tell us anything. No, it is, fellas. Yeah, we... These spots are covered with benzodine. They're turning blue. Blood stain's all right. Can't say definitely whether it's human or animal blood. You have to go back to the lab to run it through. Yeah, a biological precipitant test. Hand me one of those glass vials from my bag, will you? Yeah. Okay, here you are. Good thing. Scrape some of these flakes off for a test. There we are. How soon can you tap the blood for us, Link? The precipitant test won't run more than 20 minutes. It'll take three or four hours to run a blood grouping goal. That's it. Anything else you want to check? Levinson. Anything else? Oh, right here in my handkerchief. Empty shell. That marker over there by the rose bush? That's where I found it. From a 22, huh? Yeah. Might tie in, might not. Mark it and dump it in this envelope, will it? Oh, yeah. There you go. Did you get out of missing broadcast in the boy here? A dart he did about half hour ago. Oh, here's a description here. Thank you. Mother know about the blood stains? No, we didn't tell her. She's worried enough already. And she has no idea what might have happened to her boy. No more than we do. If you checked all our friends, relatives, we're curving the neighborhood no trace so far. Not much to go on. Blood stains, empty cartridge. Could mean a hundred things. Any ideas, Franny? Yeah, just one, and I don't like it. 4.30 p.m. Thursday, December 22nd. The neighborhood searched for nine-year-old Stanley Johnstone continued. Lee Jones went back to the crime lab to start the precipitant test in the blood grouping. Levinson and his partner, Doherty, from Highland Juvenile, stood by. We called Chief of Detectives Thad Brown, and he ordered up a special detail to aid in the search for the missing boy. Ben and I questioned the boy's mother, Mrs. Ruth Johnstone, a woman in her early 40s. She seemed fairly calm under the circumstances. Mrs. Johnstone, is your boy standing in the habit of wandering off without telling you where he's going? No, he's not in the habit of wandering off, but he has done it before. When was the last time, Mrs. Johnstone? You don't have any children, do you, Sergeant Friday? No, I'm not married. Well, there comes that time in every young boy's life when he feels that it's time to leave home, to go out on his own. Usually happens somewhere around 8 to 10. You think I know what you mean, I've got a boy? Well, then you know how it is. My husband and I scolded Stanley one day after school, and he was quite put out about it. He thought George and I were unfair. Packed a few of his things and left. How long was he going? Oh, no time at all, about two hours. I was worried about him, but my husband said to leave him alone, said every boy had to go through that stage. Well, and you think he's run away from home again this time? Yes, I think so. He's been gone about four hours now, and I have a funny feeling about it. Did you and his father have some misunderstanding with the boy recently? Well, that's just it. We haven't. I don't mind telling you now that we're talking about it. I am getting worried. Any place around that you might like to visit? A hobby shop, playground, where he might be? Yeah, there's Jensen's model shop, little Shana Burrows, but I've already called him and he hasn't been seen all day. I called all his friends, they have no idea where he is either. We'd like a list of all his friends and the places that he was known to frequent. Oh, yeah, all right, I'll get them to you. What do you suppose he is? Where's your husband now, Ms. Johnstone? Oh, he's at work. George works for the city. He's a fireman. What house is he stationed at? Engine Company 12. He's working the A-platoon. He'll be home tomorrow morning. I haven't told him that Stanley's gone. Is there any chance that the boy might be down at the firehouse with his father? No. No, he seldom goes down there anymore. No, I don't think he's there. I'm awfully worried. May I call my husband? Certainly, go right ahead. I know George will be worried. Stanley's been gone too long. Hello? May I speak with George Johnstone? This is Mrs. Johnstone. Thank you. I hate to call George at his work. Yes, ma'am. Does your husband own a gun? Yes, he does. What caliber do you know? Well, it's a .45 automatic. He got a George. This is Ruth. George, is Stanley down there with you by any chance? Oh. No, I can't find him anywhere. He hasn't been here when I came home from my shopping. Are there two policemen here? No, I said there are two policemen here. Oh, no, dear. I'll call you if we don't find him soon. All right, dear. Yes, you too. Goodbye. I didn't think he'd be with George. Is that .45? Is that the only gun in the household? Well, yes. Why are you asking about guns? Has anything happened that you're not telling me about? No, ma'am. Just routine checking. We'll have to take a look at that .45, if you don't mind. Maybe I should tell you. We do have another gun in the house, but it's all wrapped up. George bought it for Stanley's Christmas present. May we see it, please? Yes, will you have to unwrap it? Yes, I'm afraid so. I think I can reach it. We have to hide it. Here's the paper it was wrapped in. Stanley must have found it. It's gone. See, here's the gift card and the box the gun came in. Rifle. Can I look at that box, ma'am? Thank you. How about it, Jim? Twenty-two caliber. Thursday, December 22nd, 5.15 p.m. was getting dark. The search for the missing boy continued. We checked the list of Stanley Johnstone's friends. None of them or their parents had any idea of his whereabouts. We talked with Levinson again. He had been in touch with the detail combing the neighborhood. They had found nothing. We went down to Collis Avenue on 10th Street, service station on the corner. One nickel, Joe. No, I got one. You watch for that, huh? Yeah. Two, six, six, seven, please. Hi, Lee, Joe Friday. Yeah, Joe, any sound of the Johnson kid? No, not yet. How are you coming? I finished the precipitant test. It's human blood. Working with the Johnson boy, huh? We didn't want to upset his mother. We thought we'd wait until the last thing. We're still in the neighborhood. We figured on that. Just a minute, Lee. Yeah, Ben. The boss just pulled up. Okay. Thad Brown's out here now. I'll check you later, Lee, huh? Right, Joe. There's Johnstone. Found a gun, Mason. Yeah. Calibre's the same as the empty case that Levinson found. 22. You said the gun was missing. Yeah, the Johnson's were going to give it to the boy as a Christmas present. They had it hidden, but it's gone now. Any idea who took it? Well, we left the Christmas wrapping behind. I think it was the kid. 22-rival, huh? Nine-year-old boy. What are they going to learn? First, it's carbide cannons on the 4th of July. The city issued ordnance after ordnance, but a few thousand kids around the country had to lose their eyes, fingers, hands before the parents give us their full cooperation to outlaw them. I know what you mean. Sure you do. You and every other cop in the country became the heaviest trying to clamp down on them. It's always the same story. This time it's guns for Christmas. I know what you're thinking, but we're not sure yet. Listen, Friday, there's a city ordnance against giving a gun to a kid. You know that. Yes, I know that. There's a missing boy and a missing gun. There's blood on the ground and an empty shell. That's enough for me. I'm going to stay with it. Something's got to break. Yeah. I hope it's not the hearts of that kid's parents. Oh, hi, Chief. I've been looking for you, Friday. What do you got, Harry? Found the gun, new .22 rifle, strong smell of cordite. I'd say it's been recently fired. What'd you find it, Levinson? Back up there in that scrubboat, up behind the Johnston house, Mrs. Johnstone identified it. Buckley took it down the crime lab. Thanks, Harry. Is Mrs. Johnston okay? Pretty sick now. Killaby came up with something else. What's that? There's another one missing, an eight-year-old boy. 6.30 p.m. We talked with Officer Killaby about the other missing boy. He told us that his name was Stephen Moerheim, 8 years old. His family had just moved into the neighborhood. It seemed that no one besides the Moerheim family knew that the boys played together. Mrs. Moerheim told us that Stephen told her that he was going out to play and that he'd be home by 6 o'clock for dinner. She told us that he was an unusually prompt boy and almost never overstayed his playtime. We got a description of the Moerheim boy and put out a missing broadcast. We called the Johnstone's family doctor. He told us that Stanley's blood was type O. At 7 p.m. we talked again with Mrs. John Moerheim. Are you sure Mrs. Johnstone doesn't know where the boys are? He has no idea, Mrs. Moerheim. This is terrible. It's just awful. I feel there's more to this thing. Something you're not telling me. It was no use to upset you until we know a few things for sure. Then you are holding back something. Oh, please try not to worry, Mrs. Moerheim. There are certain questions we'll have to ask, routine questions, and any kind of investigation. Is there anything else you want to know? Yes, ma'am. What is your boy's blood type? That's a funny question. Do you think anything's happened to him? Have you found him and you're not telling me? No, ma'am. We haven't found him. We don't think anything's happened to him. His blood type? Yes, ma'am. I think I have it written down. Stevie's baby book. Yes, here it is. It's type O. Thank you. What if I might use your phone, please? Yes, of course. It's in the hall. Be right back, ma'am. Yeah, okay. 2-6-6-7, please. Yes, sir. Hold on, Ray. This is Friday. Lee there. Checking back, Lee. Did you get the blood types and the two missing boys? Yeah, both boys type O. You are listening to Dragnet for the solution to an actual case from official police files. Now, here's a real solution to many of your Christmas shopping problems. 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The citrus growers were warned to expect a freeze. We went up the block to see Mrs. Johnstone. Her husband had quit work early and returned home. We talked with him. He could tell us nothing more than we already knew. We still had not informed either of the families about the blood stains and the empty cartridge casing which had been discovered in the backyard of the Johnstone home. It was more than possible that they had a right to know about our findings, but Ben and I felt that there was no cause to add to the distress of the two families at this time. If the two missing boys were found alive and well, then the blood stains and the cartridge case would be of no concern to the relieved parents. At 8 p.m. 40 p.m. Ben and I left the Johnstone house and went to the home of Mr. and Mrs. John Morheim. Ms. Morheim, you said your husband worked at the market. Yes. He telephoned about 15 minutes ago and said he was closing up right away. He'll be here any minute. I do wish Stevie would call or come home. It's so cold out tonight. All he had on was a thin cotton jacket. Please try not to worry. We're doing everything we can. It's going to be all right. Stevie's father is such a sensitive man. He and the boy are so close. I know he's terribly upset. No, you're sure there's no place you might have forgotten. Some place where the boy might be. No, no place. No. Anything that happened to the boy will just kill you. No, no. You sit still. I'll get it, Ms. Morheim. Joe. Hi, Harry. The Johnstone kid. He's been found. He's home, Sergeant. He's come home. Thank God he's all right. Where's he been? Did he tell you? No. No, he didn't. His clothes were all dirty and he's acting strange. I've never seen him like this. How do you mean, Ms. Johnson? Well, he just came in the front door and said, Hello, Mom. And then he sat down in the chair and stared at the floor. He won't talk to his father or me. Do you mind if I talk to him? No, go ahead. I asked him about the little Morheim boy and he wouldn't tell me a thing. Where is he now? In the living room. Looks all right. Yes. Son. Son, this is a police officer. He wants to talk to you. Don't be afraid, dear. He only wants to ask you some questions. Son, you see, Sergeant? Stanley, come on, look at me, son. Get your head up, youngster. Come on, that's better. I had your mother pretty worried, you know that? You want to tell us where you've been? I wish you'd try to get him to eat a little something. Did you hear that, son? Want something to eat? Stanley, there's another little boy up this street who hasn't come home. Do you know where he is? His father and mother are worried about him, too. Just like your folks were. You've got to help us find him, son. He killed him. I killed Steve with the 22. We were only playing. I killed him. How do you know you killed him? Maybe he's only hurt. Isn't that it? No, he's dead. I know he's dead. The gun went off. We forgot we put bullets in there. Where is he, Stanley? I hit him. I was scared. I didn't want anybody to find him. Where did you hide him, son? In a cave up on the hill. I didn't mean it. It was my pal. Do you want to show us where's him? Yes. I'll show you. Please, don't send me to jail. 9.15 p.m., Thursday, December 22nd. 9-year-old Stanley John Stone led the way up the hill behind the backyard of his home. He showed us the wagon he moved the body in. His father came along with us. About 50 feet from the crest of the hill, the boy pointed to a thicket of scrub oak. There we found a small cave holding the body of Stephen Moerheim. There was a single bullet wound in his chest just below his heart. He was dead. We covered the body. Stanley? Stanley, how did it happen? I knew my folks were going to give me the gun for Christmas. I knew where it was, and I got it. There was a box of bullets with it. Were you pointing the gun at Stephen? No, sir. No, sir, I wasn't. It was Steve's turn to play with it. I was chasing him. He tripped over the stump there in our backyard and fell. The gun hit him in the stomach, and it went off. Why do you think you killed him if you're telling us the truth? I'm telling the truth, honest. That's the truth. All right, I believe you, son. But why do you think you killed him? It was my gun. Steve would still be alive if I didn't go and get it. I should have waited till Christmas. It's all my fault. Where have you been all this time? In the cave with Steve. What were you doing in there, son? I was praying. I was praying for God to make him alive again. After a thorough investigation, Ben and I were convinced that the shooting of Stephen Moerheim was accidental. Lieutenant Lee Jones' findings substantiated the John Stone Boy story even to the smallest detail. We put in a call to the coroner's office and invited him with the facts. He designated a local mortuary to handle the body, pending autopsy, and granted us permission to remove the body to the Moerheim home. Mrs. Moerheim collapsed. The family doctor was called. Ben and I sat in the living room to wait for John Moerheim, the dead boy's father. Mr. Moerheim? Yes. You the police? Yes, sir. Where's Edith? Where's my wife? Has my boy come home? Have you found him? Yes, sir. Where is he? Steve! Steve! Where's Steve? He's hurt, isn't he? Yes, sir. Oh, where is he? I want to see him. He's hurt bad, Mr. Moerheim. Oh, where is he? I want to see him! He's in his room. Pretty bad. Bye, going. If you want to, go with me. Sure. Don't make it any harder on yourself, Mr. Moerheim. I want to see my boy. Mr. Moerheim. Steve! Steve! Steve! Listen to me, son. We've got you a lot of nice things for Christmas. Everything you wanted. I got you three new cars for the train. The one with the searchlight is... really worse. It's what you wanted to do. Baseball. Want to see that boy. Idea what the dead boy's father had in mind. We didn't feel that we should try to restrain him. We went along with him up the street to the Johnstone home. Stevie's father. Where's your boy? I'm sorry. Where's your boy? He's right here. Won't you come in? It's all right, Mrs. Johnstone. Stevie. Yes, sir. What's your name? I wouldn't rib you. Yes, sir. Nice presents for Stevie. I want you to have them. I want to give them to you. Christmas Eve. Mom? I think that would be a fine idea, son. Come on, Ben. Don't prove, Joe. You don't give a kid a gun for Christmas. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent. On December 24th, 1948, a coroner's inquest was held in the County Morgh City and County of Los Angeles State of California in a moment the results of that inquest. Now, here are authentic reports from all over the country that tell the story of Fatima's sensational increase in popularity. New York Division. Fatima 2%. Chicago Division. Fatima 3%. Los Angeles Division. Fatima sales. Fatima 5%. More and more smokers agree, Fatima is the best of all long cigarettes. So enjoy Fatima yourself and give extra mile Fatimas for Christmas in the attractive golden yellow carton. Everyone who smokes Fatima says that this great new long cigarette is the best of all long cigarettes. Coroner's inquest. It was officially recorded that Stephen Morheim's death was the result of an accident. Stanley Johnstone, age nine, was absolved of any legal responsibility for his friend's death. You have just heard Dragnet, a new series of authentic cases from official files. Technical advice for Dragnet comes from the office of acting Chief of Police, W.A. Wharton, Los Angeles Police Department. Dragnet honors Hennepin County, Minneapolis, State of Minnesota, and the men of the Hennepin County Sheriff's Office, another of America's great law enforcement agencies. One of these men, Sheriff Ed Ryan, veteran police officer and department administrator who dedicates his life to making yours more secure. Fatima cigarettes, the best of all long cigarettes, has brought you Dragnet, portion transcribed from Los Angeles. Be sure to hear songs by Morton Downey tonight on NBC.