 The story you're about to hear is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned a juvenile detail. A woman reports that a teenage boy has been stealing food from her home. She says she's seen him several times. Your job? Check it out. 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 12th. It was warm in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out a juvenile detail. My partner's Frank Smith. The boss is Captain Powers. My name's Friday. I was on my way into the office and it was 7.57 a.m. when I got to the second floor of Georgia Street Juvenile Squad Room. I don't try to tell you any three hours to make a simple phone call. He was arrested at one o'clock this morning. That's right. I didn't hear about it until after four. Now, why weren't we contacted immediately? My wife was half out of her mind. We're sorry about that. Oh, morning, Joe. Morning. Mr. Naph, this is my partner, Sergeant Friday. How are you? This is Vincent Naph's father, Joe. I see. Were you in on this thing, too, Friday? That's right. Took both of you to arrest a 15-year-old boy, didn't it? We made the arrest together? Why? Well, I'd be ashamed to admit it. Well, just what seems to be the trouble, Mr. Naph? My boy's in jail. He's been there all night. Yes, sir. I found out about it a couple of hours ago. I want to know why I wasn't called at once. Well, sir, we called you as soon as we could. Your son wasn't carrying any identification. He refused to answer our questions. We had no way of knowing who to contact. He was scared. That's all. You can't blame him for that. How'd you get his name if he wouldn't tell you? You beat it out of him? The other boy we picked up decided to cooperate with us. Now, just bet he did. He wanted to shift some of the blame. My son's done ending it all, ending he shouldn't. You can be certain that Lemmert kid put him up to it. Vincent doesn't even know what this is all about. You've talked to him, have you? Certainly. He says it's a mistake, the whole thing. Sure. Oh, I suppose, at least, don't make mistakes. I'll make them. I'll say you do, and you pull the beauty this time. It doesn't look that way to us, but... Oh, don't tell me how it looks. I know my son. I know when he's telling the truth. He says this is a mistake, and I believe him. Oh, it's natural, I guess. You know, I'm not going to make any wild threats or try to go over your heads, but I want that boy released, and I want him released at once. Sorry, sir, we can't do that. I'm being just as patient as I can with you, Sergeant. Mr. Knapp, we filed a petition on your son. There'll be a pre-detention hearing in juvenile court as soon as possible. The court will decide what happens to him after that. It's out of our hands now. It wasn't out of your hands last night when you arrested him. That was our job. Your job is to protect people's rights. You're supposed to be cops, not bullets. Take it easy, Mr. Knapp. There's plenty of crime in Astana, and plenty of criminals, robberies, killings, holux. Only trouble is they never get solved. I guess the police force is too busy man handling youngsters and chasing bums out of freight yards. All right, Mr. Knapp. Too busy or too scared, you're afraid to tackle the real gangsters. You might get hurt. You'd rather pick on a teenage kid who can't fight back. Cowards, that's what you really are. You're cowards, not policemen. Let me ask you something, Knapp. Suppose a couple of guys drive into a filling station. One of them cracks the owner over the head with a tire iron while the other one cleans out the cash register. You think we ought to forget about it or go after him? I am not interested in hypothetical cases. I'm talking about my son. So am I. What do you mean? You said you spoke to the boy. Didn't he tell you why he's here? He said he didn't know. Is that what it is? You think he's mixed up in a filling station robbery? Is that where you're holding him? Maybe you better ask him again. I'm asking you. Yes, that's right. That's it. Well, you'd better be able to prove it. So I can believe me, you'd just better be able to prove it. A woman across the street from the station saw two boys drive away. She got the license. Vince doesn't have a car. It was young limers at your lobby, but your son was still with him when we made the arrest. Well, that doesn't prove anything. That doesn't prove they were together at the filling station. It was some other boy, not Vince. That's what your son says too. Well, then why don't you believe it? Well, Emmert gave us a different story. Well, what do you expect? He doesn't want to take all the blame. He's in a jam and he wants some company. The woman across the street is sure there were two boys, Mr. Neff. Well, that doesn't make one of them my Vince. Does she say it was Vince? Is she willing to swear to it? No, sir. What about the owner of the station? Has he identified my son? He can't identify anybody. He's still unconscious. Well, I'm sorry for him, of course, but you haven't got any right to blame Vince. And you haven't got any evidence against him, either. We got the tire iron that was used in the slugging, Neff. Well, what about it? We had a check by late and Prince. Well? They found a set. Well, they can't be Vince's fingerprints. They can't be. I'm afraid they are. No, no, no, you're wrong. You made a mistake. Not this time. Look, we're sorry, Mr. Neff. Oh, why? Why would Vince do a thing like this? There's no reason he's had everything, everything we could give him. Different if we were poor, if he didn't get an allowance every week. Yeah. There's just no reason. No, sir, I guess he found one. Well, I... I'm sorry. Sorry if I was a little rough on you. Sorry. I better get on home now. His mother, if you want to know if he's all right. Yes, sir. Oh, uh... One thing. Yes, sir? If he really did this terrible thing, I'm glad you caught him right away, right after it happened. Now we got a chance. Sir? But it won't happen again. What do you got there? Huh? Oh, I didn't realize it still had it with me. What is there? It was one of those puzzles with numbers. You move around, try to line them up. The kids brought him home last night. I was showing him how to work it. I guess it stuck in my pocket. It's real easy, Joe. There, see? I got them all in order. One. It was funny. Why, what's the matter? Nothing. I just had a couple out of sequins, that's all. No? Well, give me a minute, can't you, Joe? You've got three numbers in the wrong place now. Look, Joe, I can't work the puzzles when you're watching me like that. Oh, I see. I get it. Juvenile Friday. Yes, ma'am. I see. Well, do you know the boy? Can you give me your address, please? All right. I have it. What? Yes, ma'am, we would. Would you be home? All right. Thank you very much. Lady up on the Hollywood Hills. Yeah. Some youngster's been stealing groceries out of her garage. She know who it is? She got a pretty good idea. Yeah. She almost caught him. Frank and I left the office and drove out to a hillside address on Edgewood Drive, two miles north of Hollywood Boulevard. It was 9.17 a.m. when we got there. Well, there isn't too much to tell. Week, 10 days ago, I started lifting things in the garage here. What sort of things? Can goods. I keep an extra supply on those shelves over there in the corner. I see. Well, there wasn't much gone. Just a couple of items now and then. First, I wasn't even certain. I thought maybe I'd used them up myself and forgot about it. Mm-hmm. Then this morning, I saw him. It was right after Clarence went to work. Well, how about what time would that be? 7 a.m. That's when he leaves. No later than 5 after. Mm-hmm. I was doing up the breakfast dishes and I heard somebody fussing around the garage. By the time I got to the back door, he was sneaking off across the yard. I gave a shout. Started after him. What happened then? I guess Magellan kind of took him by surprise anyway. He turned around and dropped the stuff he was holding. He sure didn't wait to pick it up, though. Started off as fast as his legs would carry him. He headed up the hill there. That was the last I saw of him. Well, now just what was it he dropped, Miss Roman? A couple of cans of my groceries and a big paper bag. That's it. They're on the stool there. Mm-hmm. I looked inside. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I thought it might be some of my canned goods. That's all right. What do you got, Joe? Books. Huh? Books here. Mm-hmm. Theoretical physics, principles of dynamics, frontiers of molecular structure. You can make a new tale of them yourself. Must be something he's studying. Yes, ma'am. Is his name in him? No. No, they're all from the Hollywood Library. Mm-hmm. What if you could tell us what he looks like, Miss Roman? Yes, I guess so. First off, I'd say he looks like books. How's that? You know, the studying type. Oh, yes, I see. Sort of thin and pinched. Mm-hmm. Blondish hair, light-complexed. About how tall is it? Five feet, six or seven. Might look taller than he really is on account of being so thin. Mm-hmm. About how old would you say it was? 15, 16, somewhere in there, just a youngster. Did you notice his clothes? Hmm, hat on pants look pretty worn. And a sweater. What about the color? A sweater with blue, pants were too faded to tell. Mm-hmm. Now, I want you to understand one thing, Friday. Yes, ma'am. I'm not real upset about him taking our food. If he needs it, that is. It just seems to me there ought to be a better way of going about it. Nobody has to steal. Yes, ma'am. Is today the first time you ever saw this boy, Ms. Roman? Oh, no, no, no, no. I've seen him a couple of times before. One or two mornings, he walked past the house on his way down the hill. Other evening, I saw him heading back up. Of course, I didn't connect him with my missing groceries then. Oh, we'll have a look around. If he just lives up on the hill, he shouldn't be too hard to find. Oh, no. No, Mr. Friday, he doesn't live up there. Nobody does. Ma'am. Edgewood Drive gives out 100 yards beyond us just around the next curve. Oh. We're the last house. 9.32 a.m. Frank and I left Mrs. Roman. We drove up to the end of Edgewood Drive and we got out of the car. Well, she's right, Joe. What's that? No place for anybody to live around here. I think you're way out in the country. Yeah. Frank? Huh? Over there, halfway up on the slope. What? See? Right behind that tree. Oh, yeah. What's it look like to you? I don't know. Oh, I guess what? Maybe that's where he set up housekeeping. What are you talking about, Joe? Well, didn't you ever try it when you were a kid? Try what? Hiding out in a cave. We climbed up the side of the hill. About 200 yards east of the road, we came to a small hole. Behind this opening was a shallow, natural cave. Frank and I crawled inside. The cave was about eight feet long and four feet wide. The boy we were looking for was not there, but there was plenty of evidence that this was where he'd been living. A sleeping bag was rolled up in one corner. Beside it was a small supply of canned food. We found 10 or 12 notebooks filled with handwritten mathematical equations and some 50 textbooks on advanced physics or higher mathematics. He sure believes in making use of the public library. He does, doesn't he? Just about every branch in town. Well, I suppose they're worse things than you could be reading. Yeah. Looks like they aren't all library books. What do you got, Joe? There's a couple here with book place. Huh? Owners' names in them. Book plates in three of the text indicated that they were owned by a person named Carl Winderman. All the other volumes were the property of various Los Angeles libraries. We contacted the office and made arrangements for another team of juvenile officers to stake out on the cave. On our way downtown, we stopped off at the Hollywood library. We showed the library in several volumes which belonged to that branch. Her records indicated that the books had not been checked out. She had no idea who had taken them or when. 11.13 a.m., we put out a local with a boy's description and we checked with missing person. As far as we could tell, he had not been reported missing. 11.46 a.m., Frank and I made several calls to Branch libraries. They all said that the books in question had been removed from their shelves without authorization. We checked the phone directories for the name Carl Winderman. At 12.06 p.m., we reached him at his office at Bradfield University. Yes, sir, I see. Well, I'd be up to you, sir, any time you say. I'd be fine with that. Yes, sir. Well, thanks very much. That's the right guy, Joe, head of the physics department. Do you know anything that might help us? Yeah, he knows the boy. 4.16 p.m., Frank and I drove out to the Bradfield campus. We met with Dr. Carl Winderman in his office on the second floor of the science building. Yes, yes, I've talked to the boy several times. Did you know he had these books of yours? Of course, I loaned him to him. How'd you happen to meet him, Doctor? It was here at the university. He came to see me. He had read some articles of mine. He wished to discuss them. What's that? It was not presumptuous. He has a brilliant mind, extraordinary. I see. And he also wished to inquire about enrolling. He asked about a scholarship. I tried to discourage him for a year or so, at least he's very young. Did he say how old he was? 18, that is what he told me. I'm afraid it is not the truth. About how old would you say he is? Perhaps 16. His last name? I suppose he told me, but I'm afraid I do not remember the typical absent-minded professor. What about his family? Did he mention them? No. I imagine they are not well to do the way he was dressed to inquire about a scholarship. Did he say where he lives? In Los Angeles, that's all. I think he did mention something about recently coming to California. From one of the eastern states, Pennsylvania, perhaps. You wouldn't know which town would you? No, I'm sorry. You didn't tell us about him, Dr. Winterman? Well, I would say he is a happy boy. You say he's unhappy? Yes. What do you mean? Lonely, aloof. It must be very difficult for him, other people. The children his age, he would be unable to talk to them. They would have nothing in common, even a dose. A brilliant mind does not necessarily make for a well-adjusted person, especially in one so young. Well, thank you very much, Dr. Winterman. Leave me one of our cards. If you should hear from him again, would you get in touch with us, please? Yes, of course. If there is anything I can do for Peter... It's very kind of you. Is he in some kind of trouble? Well, we don't know yet, sir. I did not mean to pry. Forgive me. Well, the fact is, he's been borrowing some books that don't belong to him. Books? Yes, sir. From libraries around town. To want to read, to want to learn? Is that such a serious crime? It does not seem like one to me. Yes, sir. And you said all he's done? Well, he's taken some other things, too. Food, canned goods. Yes, of course I should have known. When he was here, I should have known. Big apart? But it has been so long since I've seen one. What's that, sir? A boy who is hungry. Frank and I went back to the office. The officers on stake-out reported that the boy had not returned to the cave. The stake-out was continued. 7.48 p.m. Are you still fooling with that thing? I wasn't even thinking, Joe. I just happened to reach in my pocket. Let me see. Did you get him in order yet? I wasn't trying, Joe. I told you, I didn't even know I was fooling with it. I get it. I wasn't trying. Yeah. Do you have a little Friday? Yeah. Uh-huh. What about? Okay. We'll be right over. Thank you. Kid walked into a grocery store, walked out without paying for his groceries. Sound like our boy? Stores on the corner of Green Street in Edgewood. Frank and I drove out to the Huggin' Grocery store on the corner of Green and Edgewood. 8.17 p.m. We pulled up and went inside. I was waiting on another customer. I didn't pay much attention to him. The next thing I knew, he was sneaking out the door. Yeah, so what did I do for you? We're police officers. This is Frank Smith. My name's Friday. You're from Central? That's right. I'm Davis, Hollywood. Did you get a description here? Yeah, my partner's not looking around. I'll give him a hand. Okay, thank you. Say, uh, will you take care of the report? Yeah, we will. Thanks. Now, uh, this ain't no big robbery or anything like that. He was just a kid, you understand? Yes, he could. You tell us what he looked like. Huggin', uh, Andy Huggin. It seems a sign on the window there. Yes, I see. Well, like I said, he was a kid. Uh-huh. Teenage, about halfway. How's that? Halfway in his teens, you know, about 15 to 16. I see. Light hair, thin and a rail. How was he dressed, sir? Pants, sweaters. Oh. I see. Just what do you take from your store, Mr. Huggin'? Well, I couldn't say for certain. Uh, I wouldn't have known he took anything if it hadn't dropped out from under his sweater when he was sneaking out the door. Yeah. Can of corned beef. That's what it was, it fell. Did you see which way he went? Out the door, up the street. I told the other policemen, I guess, they were after him. Yes, sir. I don't know whether they're done right or not. How's that? It's important. I expect it seems like a lot fuss about a few groceries. No, sir. The trouble that is, you let one of them get away with something like this and you get around. Next thing you know, the store's full of them, you know. The kids try to steal your blinds. Yes, sir, we understand. Where's the plague of locusts? Sergeant? Yeah, David. Out in the car? What? We got it. The patrol car officers have found the boy hiding in an alley a few blocks west of the grocery store. We transferred him to our vehicle and drove him down to Georgia Street. 9.46 p.m., we took him up to the interrogation room for questioning. Good afternoon, sir. All right, now you want to tell us about it? About what? Well, let's start with your name. Well, Paul. Paul what? Jones. You sure about that, aren't you? I don't know my own name. Yeah, you should. Where do you live, Paul? San Diego. What are you doing in LA? Just looking around that cell. What's your address, son? Huh? In San Diego. What's your address? I don't know. You know your name, but you don't know where you live. I only moved to California a few weeks ago. You live with your folks? Sure. They have a telephone? Uh-huh. What's father's name? Bill. Bill Jones. How long have you been in Los Angeles, son? Just today. Just today? He checked in this morning. Do you ever hear of a man named Carl Wenderman? Who's he? Now look, Pete, you're not doing yourself any good here. Do you hear what I said? My name's Paul. Why'd you steal that stuff from the grocery store, son? I don't know. What kind of an answer is that? You're in trouble, Pete. Serious trouble. Am I? All right. You won't tell us. We'll tell you. You didn't come to Los Angeles today. You've been here for a couple of weeks. You've been living in a cave up in the Hollywood Hills. Yeah. And this grocery store tonight isn't the first time you've gotten out of line. Why'd you take all those books, son? What books? Well, it just shows you how much the area is. Well, it just shows you how much these college professors really know. Huh? Like that Dr. Wenderman? He says you're a smart kid. You've got a real good head on your shoulders. Well, it's a pretty poor judge of brains, isn't it? Well, you know about it. Yeah. He's so far ahead of you guys. I thought you never heard of him. All right. Now, Pete, let's quit fooling around. Let's have it straight. All of it. What do you want? Your name isn't Paul Jones. Now, what is it? Siler. Pete Siler? Yeah. You found it. I didn't mean that cave. You're a real home. I don't know. I used to live with my sis. Back in Philly. Well, what happened? You got married. Do me how? What about your folks? They're dead. What the heck are you doing? Hm? That thing. It's just a puzzle. Oh. You're supposed to line up the numbers. One through fifteen. Yeah? Yeah. You want to try it? Is that all? Hm? Just line them up? Sure. Now what? Oh, I said I, I guess. Oh. Why'd you come out to California, Pete? I went to college. Thought maybe I could study physics. Did you finish high school? No. Not the history and English part. What do you mean? Science and math. I finished them a couple of years ago when I was a kid. Just how old are you? Sixteen almost. Mm-hmm. The harder if you didn't look at it. Huh? That puzzle. Yeah? You know, let the guy see it first so he knows just where the numbers are. Oh, yeah. Then make him work it with his hands behind his back. For memory. Huh? Be harder that way. Mm-hmm. I'll show you. Go ahead and mix them up. Okay. I thought you were going to memorize it first. I did. Take a look. I get them right? Yeah. It's harder that way, though. All right, Pete. Now let's go back to it. Hm? Why'd you take all those books? I wanted to study them. I was going to return them when I was through. I couldn't get a library card. I thought a real address. What about the canned goods you've been stealing? It wasn't much. Just enough to eat. Mm-hmm. What's going to happen to me now? Well, that's not up to us. Huh? What do you think about I happen? I don't know. I don't see where I did anything so wrong. You don't, huh? Well, did I? You stole books, you stole food. Because it's a lot of trouble. Yeah. Well, you're the whizz at math, aren't you? Huh? You added up. Ladies and gentlemen, the story you've just heard is true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On April 16th, the hearing was held in juvenile court, the state of California, and the county of Los Angeles. Peter Ellis Siler was made a ward of the juvenile court and was placed in a foster home. Through the efforts of Dr. Carl Winterman, he was permitted to enroll in Bradfield University as a special student in the field of higher mathematics and physics. You have just heard DRAGNET, the authentic story of your police force in action, and starring Jack Webb, a presentation of the United States Armed Forces Radio Service.