 Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to hear is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Dragnet is brought to you by Chesterfield, made by Liggett and Myers, first major tobacco company to bring you a complete line of quality cigarettes. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned to hit and run felony detail. A young woman has been run down and seriously injured. The driver of the car has fled from the scene. Your job, find him. Today, friends, you hear these three words everywhere. Chesterfield's for me. The Chesterfield you smoke today is the best cigarette ever made. Best for you, because Chesterfield gives you proof of highest quality, low nicotine, the taste you want, the mildness you want. Chesterfield is best for you because it's tested and approved by 30 years of scientific tobacco research. Chesterfield is best for you because it has an established good record with smokers, proven by test after test. Yes, friends, the Chesterfield you smoke today is the best cigarette ever made for the taste you want, the mildness you want. Join the thousands now changing to Chesterfield. Always say, Chesterfield's for me. 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 7. It was cold in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out of traffic bureau, hit and run felony detail. My partner's Frank Smith. The boss is Captain Calphi. My name's Friday. We're on our way out from the office, and it was 840 AM when we got to 1784 Byrum Street, front door. Better try it again, huh? No. Lemon, it sounded like somebody coming. Yeah? Something you want? Miss Hunter? That's right. What do you want? Police officers. We'd like to talk to you. Oh, about the thing last night, huh? Yes, ma'am. That's right. Well, come on in. Can't stand around for long. I'm going to be late for work, as it is. Come on. Thank you. This is my partner, Frank Smith. My name's Friday. How do you do? Hi. Sit down there. I've got to get ready to leave. There's some coffee there in the carafe, if you want. No, thank you. No, ma'am, thank you. Would you mind pouring me a cup? You'll find everything right there on the table. Two sugars. All right. What do you want to know about last night? I told the officers who were there, all I know. Yes, ma'am, we know. We read their report. We'd like to go over it with you if it's all right. It seems like a waste of time to me. Spend a little more of it trying to catch the kid that hit the girl. It'd be better all the way around. Yes, ma'am, there's your coffee. Oh, thank you. No, it's too warm. Either one of you got a cigarette? Yes, ma'am. Here you are. Here's the line. Thanks. What do you want to go over? Well, according to what you said to the officers last night, you saw the accident. Is that right? I saw it, yeah. I don't think it was an accident. If you ask me, I think the kid deliberately hit the girl deliberately. Why do you say that? Well, just the way it looked, that's all. Kind of feeling. When he came barreling around the corner, he must have seen her. She was right under the light. Didn't even make an attempt to stop, none at all. I saw the girl step off the curb. Right under the light, he had to see her head too. Anyway, she stepped off the curb and started to cross the street. Her and me saw her. She started to cross, and then all of a sudden this kid in the hot rod was coming right at her. Was there anything she could do? Yes, ma'am. She kind of looked up at the car and then, well, like she was going to run. But she didn't have time. The car hit her and knocked her down. Did you get a good look at the car? You mean the one that hit her? Yes, ma'am. You bet I did. Passed right under the light, got a real good look at it. Wonder if you'd describe it for us. I told the cops all about it last night. Seems like that'd be enough. Why do I have to go through it again? Well, it might be something he didn't think of last night, Miss Hunter, something he might have forgotten. Isn't likely, but if you've got to have it, I guess that's the way it's got to be. Hope we can get it over with fast enough. I've got to get down to the corner, so I won't miss my bus. Well, if it'd help, we can drive you to work. You can give us the information on the way. Well, that'll be fine. Wait a minute. I'll get my coat. How'd it look when you came in? Ma'am? Did it look like it was going to rain? No, it's pretty cold, though. Paper said it might rain today. Well, better take an umbrella. What kind of a car was it, Miss Hunter? A hot rod. You know the kind, real low, two exhaust pipes kind of beat up. Well, what kind of a car was it, the brand name? I guess it was a Ford. It looked like one. Hard to tell, it was kind of banged up, you know. I don't know why the police allowed cars like that on the streets anyway. It couldn't be very safe. Can you tell us what year the car was? Well, I'm not real good at that. But I'd say maybe in 1940. It might have been 1941. It was a pre-war car, though. Oh, yeah, I'm sure of that. Would you like to get in, ma'am? OK, thanks. There you go. Where can we drop you, ma'am? Near First and Broadway will be fine, just on the corner there. OK. Miss Hunter, was there anything about the car that would make it easier to identify? Not especially. Black Ford, all beat up. I'm sure I'd know it if I saw it again, any place. Did you get a good look at the driver of the car? No, not too good. All I could see was that he was a kid, you know, maybe 19, 20 years old. You'd like to see her get that kid. Is the girl all right? She looked pretty bad last night. No, she's still in a critical condition. Doctors aren't sure yet whether she'll be all right. Sure hope she is. Have you talked to her? No, we haven't, not yet. That's a terrible thing. Kids like that running around in hot rods, barreling around the city. Person's not safe on the streets anymore. Well, just because a car's got twin tailpipes, Miss Hunter, doesn't have to be a hot rod. Well, this one was. Even had the little sort of license plate hanging down from the back bumper. You mean a state license plate? No, one of those with a club name on it. You know the kind. There's not a notation to that on the report that we remember. I guess I forgot all the excitement at all. I must have forgot. Well, did you see the name on that plate? Yeah, not real good, but I saw it. Think you can remember it? Not all of it. The last part was wheels, something wheels, two words. You're pretty sure of that, are you? Yeah, wheels. That's the word I saw. Didn't remember it last night. I guess it didn't seem important then. Must be a lot of cars that have those plates on them all over town. Yes, we know. Don't seem like it's going to help much. A lot of cars with those plates on them, lots of them. Yes, ma'am. Even if you do find the kid with one of them, how are you going to know if he's the right one? Well, that's not going to be too hard. Is Carl, tell us. According to the report, an automobile driven by one male occupant had struck a woman while she crossed the intersection of Olympic Boulevard and Connecticut Street the night before. When the ambulance arrived at the scene, the victim, who was identified as Mrs. Helen Chapman, was unconscious and was removed to Georgia Street receiving hospital for emergency treatment. Members of the crime lab had arrived at the scene and gathered what physical evidence they could find. All citizens in the vicinity were interrogated and their statements were taken. Photographs of the corner were made and held for evidence. Because of the hit-and-run aspect of the case, Frank and I had been assigned to investigate it. At 1.14 PM, we drove over to Georgia Street receiving hospital to talk to the attending physician, Dr. Sebastian. He said the patient's condition was so critical that she couldn't be moved to her own hospital. He told us that the victim hadn't recovered consciousness to the point where she could be questioned. He went on to tell us that she'd been administered serum albumin to counteract shock. He listed her injuries for us. Compound fractures of the femur, rib fractures, and associated internal injuries, including a punctured lung and brain concussion was not expected that she'd live. Frank and I left the doctor and walked down the hall. In the waiting room, we met a tall, thin man who looked as if he hadn't slept in several days. On the floor in front of him was a small pile of half-smoked cigarettes. He identified himself as the victim's husband, Carl Chapman. I don't know. I came home from work. They told me about it. I didn't even know. Didn't they try to call you at work? No, I guess they called the house. There wasn't anybody home. I just walked up the door and there was a note telling me to call there. Didn't even know about Helen. I see. You like cigarette, Chapman? Thanks. You talk to the doctor? Yes, sir. We just did. Is there anything new? She can be all right. Well, I don't know yet. You can ask the doctor yourself. Why don't anybody tell me anything? All the time I ask how my wife is, they tell me to ask the doctor. Why won't they tell me? I don't know, sir. Can't even find out if she needs anything. It won't let me see her. Anybody will tell me what's really happening in there. It's been over 10 hours. Nobody will tell me what's going on. Best thing, try to sit down and take it easy, Mr. Chapman. Oh, that's great to say. Just sit down. Easy to say. It's not your wife who's in there. It isn't someone you love. Why are you here anyway? Why aren't you out trying to get the rotten little plunkett did it? Why don't you look for him? We'll get to him, sir. When? After Helen's dead? Is that going to be when you start looking? We're looking for him now. We came over in the hopes that we could talk to your wife. We thought she might be able to give us some information. What in God's name do you want from her? The name and address of the kid who ran it down? Does you have to get out of bed and go find him for you? It's your job. Yours. All this talk about the police department being so good. But what are you doing? You're standing around here with your toe in the dirt waiting for my wife to come to and have to point the kid out. All right, sir, now take it easy. Take it easy, nothing. You listen to me both of you. You listen. If she dies, if that kid killed her, I'll find him. I don't know how, but I will. I'm going to do the same thing to him with my hands that he did with this car. I'll find him. I swear I'll find him, and I'm going to kill him. With my hands, I'm going to kill him. Mr. Chapman? Yeah. Can I see you for a moment? Yeah. Would you excuse us for a minute, Sergeant? Sure, Doctor. We'll wait out in the hall. I wonder what's going on in there. I don't know. Better call the skipper. Tell him about that plate on the car. Get a broadcast out on it. Check the phone book for the address of the National Hot Rod Association. Better talk with him, huh? He might have something for us on the club. Right. You better start, cop. You better find it fast because I'm looking too. You ought to go home and get some sleep, Mr. Chapman. You're all worn out. I'm not going to get any sleep until I catch that kid. I'm telling you, I catch that kid. How is the girl? She's dead. Both of them are. Both of them? Yeah. She was going to have a baby in a couple of months. 3.15 PM, Frank and I drove out to the offices of the National Hot Rod Association on Hollywood Boulevard. We met with Bud Coons and Wally Parks. They checked their records for clubs with the last name, Wheels. There were three in their files. Two were in the eastern part of the United States, and one was listed as having headquarters in Alhambra, California. We obtained the name and address of the president of the club, and we drove out to see him. We found him in the garage behind the house, working on a 1941 Ford. We introduced ourselves, and he asked us to sit down. What do you want to see me about? We understand that you're the president of the Square of Wheels, all right? Yeah, that's right. Why? How many members do you have in the club? 18. 18 active. There was a couple of guys in the service. What's this all about anyway? How come the questions? All your members have the metal plates with the club name on their car? Yeah, get them when they pay the initiation fee, why? Anybody else have them? Not legally. What do you mean? A couple of them out have been stolen from members. Any of the fellows in the club drive a black pre-war Ford? Yeah, I guess we got about five of them. I got one myself, as a matter of fact. Listen, why can't you tell me what this is all about? Figure if I knew what you wanted, I could help you out. A woman was run down by a hot rod last night, one of the witnesses saw a plate on the car that might have been from your club. No kidding. That's the way we get it. What did it look like? Well, they say it had twin pipes, pretty well beat up, white sidewall tires. It's not one of ours, then. You sound pretty sure about the plate. I told you, we've had a couple of them stolen. Must have been one of them. Well, how come you're so sure it wasn't one of your members? Oh, I know the car is in the club. There isn't a yo-yo and a bunch. What's a yo-yo? Well, yeah, you know, a shot rod, junkie. Oh, I see. I don't know. It seems like every time there's any trouble with a car over five years old, it's a hot rod. Sure not fair. That's so. Yeah. Come here, I'll show you. I'll take a look at that. I've been working on it for three years. Got over $1,200 bucks in it. Take a look at it. It's a lot of motor. Yeah, it's a good car, but what's it prove? The car that ran that woman down wasn't a hot rod. Well, how do you figure that? You said it was a wreck, didn't you? That's right. We haven't got a wreck that's a lot on the streets in this club. I don't know a legal club that has a yo-yo in it. We got a safety check every month. Any car that isn't safe has to be fixed or the guy's out. A lot of clubs operate that way. Yeah, we know. A kid's bill rods for two reasons. Because they want the cars to run better, be more efficient, or else they want something a little different than you can buy in a showroom. Well, all this sounds good, but a woman was killed last night by a kid driving a hopped-up car of some kind. Maybe it had twin pipes, a loud muffler, but I'll give you odds from here to Bonneville that it wasn't a hot rod. I know how you guys feel. We're always getting it. Every kid behind a wheel in a second hand car is a potential killer. The way the papers pictures, we just roam around looking for somebody to run over. That's not true. You check the records. I think you'll find that the ratio between tickets given out to members of hot rod clubs, members of the NHRA, and any other group of drivers will make the hot roders look pretty good. There hasn't been a ticket in our club in the last year and a half. The one before that was for overtime parking. Oh, I'm sorry, fellas. That car last night wasn't one of our guys, and you can bet he wasn't a hot rodder either. You got any way of knowing who could have gotten the plaque? Well, not right off, but we'll find him. How? There's only so many streets in Los Angeles. We'll find him. Guys like that make things rough on the clean drivers in this town. We'll find him for you. Well, we'll appreciate any help you can give us on this, but it's police business if you find him, give us a call right away. Don't worry, we will. How do I get in touch with you? I'll leave you one of our cards any time you call us. All right. I'll get on the phone and get the fellas rounded up. If you turn anything, call us right away. Don't try to take care of it yourselves. Only one thing we're interested in. You know what's that? Proving to you, it wasn't one of us. That's what's important, showing you we're on your side. Well, that shouldn't be too hard. Huh? There's a lot of room. We got the names and addresses of the members of the Square Wheel Club, and we talked to them. We checked their cars, and each of them volunteered to assist us in attempting to locate the hit-and-run vehicle. 6 40 PM, Frank and I got back to the office. During the afternoon, the broadcast on the car had gone over the state wire, and every police officer in the state of California was looking for the hit-and-run car. When we checked with communications, there had been no replies to our broadcasts. 7 15 PM, we put on a call to Georgia Street receiving hospital, and we talked again to Dr. Sebastian. He told us that the victim's husband, Carl Chapman, had been placed under the care of his family doctor, and had been given sedatives to make him sleep. While I checked with Lieutenant Wolfram on the developments, Frank went over to the crime lab and talked with Lieutenant Lee Jones. 8 47 PM, we met back in the squad room. Any word yet? No. Got a call from Al Gibbs. Not rockin' clump? Yeah. He says all the clubs in the area are looking for the car. They divided the city up in sections. Members are checking all the streets. No luck though, huh? No, nothing. Well, they turned a couple of cars, but they don't check out. How'd you do? Pretty good. Got the report here. Uh-huh. Had a couple sandwiches sent in, got you Swiss on rye. Good. In the bag there. Where's coffee? Right there, Carton. Oh. The lab sure did a good job on this stuff here. Uh-huh. Here's the scene. Victim was found 10 feet 4 inches from the northeast corner, 4 feet 8 inches from the North pedestrian crosswalk. And put it about here, will it? Yeah. They found particles of broken glass, checked on them at the lighthouse, lenses from 1944. Here's a picture of them. Yeah. In the gutter of the southwest corner, they found this. There's a bumper guard. Yeah, I looked at it. It's new. Any brand name? Yeah, but it's not going to help much, distributed all over the country. A lot about skid marks. Any sign of them? No, not that they could find. Either the kid didn't have time to use them or else he didn't want to. They came up with this, though. Yeah, what's that? Well, some marks from a tire. He says he thinks they were made when the kid dug out to get away, spun the back wheels. Sure indicate that he didn't mean to stop at any time, huh? Well, that's the way Lee's got it, figure. Well, it isn't much to go on, is it? They've come easier. Well, let's go out and check the neighborhood again. We might still be able to turn up a decent description. We start checking the garages in the morning, try to turn the car with a broken headlight and a missing bumper guard. OK, better call communications, get out of supplemental on the tires. Yeah, I'll take care of it. Hi, guys. Getting around the felony Friday. Yeah, yeah, that's right. Anybody there? No, no, keep it under surveillance. We'll be right out. Yeah, don't burn it. Right, bye. What do you got? Well, it's beginning to go our way, maybe, huh? They found the car. You are listening to Dragnet, the authentic story of your police force in action. Chesterfields for me. You hear it everywhere. Tonight, we hear from America's number one bandleader, Ray Anthony, who, with his attractive wife, Dee, plays college dates from coast to coast. In cigarettes, the young crowd really goes for Chesterfields. I've noticed that wherever we've played. And I guess it's one of the reasons Chesterfield is America's most popular two-way cigarette. Of course, Dee and I are Chesterfield smokers too. We know they're best for us. Chesterfields for me. You hear it everywhere. The Chesterfield you smoke today is the best cigarette ever made. For the taste you want, the mildness you want, join the thousands now changing to Chesterfield. During a routine patrol of the streets in East Los Angeles, a radio unit had come across a car parked at the curb on Vancouver Avenue. They'd stopped to investigate and found that it matched the description that we'd sent out. On the phone, I had instructed the officer not to search the car, but merely to keep it under surveillance and check and hold anyone who approached it. Frank and I notified the crime lab of the find, and then we left the office and drove out to the location. We talked to the officers in the police car, and they told us that they hadn't seen anyone near the vehicle. We checked the registration and found that the registered owner was a Jack Moore. The white slip gave us an address in Hollywood. While the crime lab went over the car, we drove out to Moore's address to talk to him. He lived in a large house built in the mid-20s as a private residence. It had been converted into a boarding house. Frank covered the rear entrance and I rang the front doorbell. You aren't waking me up this time of night. Police officers, you have a tenant here named Jack Moore? What about it? We'd like to talk to him. Too late, Mac. He ain't here. Where is he? I don't know. He moved out this afternoon. He didn't say where he was going. A thorough search was made of the suspect's room. The manager told us that Moore had come home that morning, packed his belongings, and left the house. We called the crime lab and Lieutenant Lee Jones told us that they'd established that Moore's car was the one that had run down the Chapman girl. We talked to the other people in the rooming house. None of them could tell us where Moore might have gone. We put in a call to auto records, but the car was not listed as being stolen. Frank called his name into R&I, but we found that he had no felony record. From the occupants of the rooming house, we found that the suspect had no relatives in this state and no close friends that they could recall. Layton Prince came out and went over the room and, going over it, we found a waste basket Moore had used to dispose of articles that he didn't want. In the basket, we found several max folders from a bar out on West 7th Street. We put in a call to the bar, but we found that it was closed. From the manager of the rooming house, we got a good description of the suspect along with the information that he received no mail and that he was apparently unemployed. The stakeout was set up on the house and at 3.36 a.m., Frank and I checked out of the office and went home for the night. The next day, Wednesday, April 8th, we contacted DMV and asked that they give us all information on the car. 9.15 a.m., we drove over the bar on West 7th Street. Not open yet, don't open until 10. Police officers, like some information. Licenses back there on the wall in plain sight. There's nothing going on here. You have a customer in your name, Jack Moore. We just opened the doors. We got no say about who comes in. As long as they don't cause trouble, we don't either. This guy's about 20 or 21, 5'8", 5'10", 106 to 5 pounds. Blonde, named Moore, Jack Moore. What's he done? Do we want to talk to him? About what? Police business. Have you seen him? Nothing that's gonna get the bar in trouble. That's a simple question, Mr. Have you seen him? Maybe, yeah. You tell me what it's all about and I might be able to help you out. You're running out of time. Have you seen Jack Moore? Yeah. When? Last night. Here? Yeah, he was in. Got licked up. I tossed him out when we closed. Where is he now? You better ask him. I'm gonna tell you once more. If you know where he is, you're gonna save yourself a lot of time by cooperating with us. I run a clean place here. I don't want any trouble with the cops. My license is on the wall. I got no choice for the customers who come in here. I don't want to get mixed up in any. We're not calling it that way. That's the way it is. This is a clean place. That's not what the book says. You've been tabbed a couple of times for serving minors. You run B-girls. You haven't served straight liquor in here for a couple of years. Now, if we have to get the information from you downtown, that's the way it's gonna be. Get your coat. Oh, now look, fellas. I'm just trying to take care of myself. You did. Get your coat. Isn't there some way we can work this thing out? I don't want any trouble. Where's Jack Moore? I tried to run a clean place a couple of times. I've been to. We've been over all that before. Now, where is he? I got him up at my place. You there now? I guess so. He got pretty loaded last night. Told me he didn't have any place to pad down. I took him home. What's the address? 1862 and a half Woodworth Court, room 14. All right. Let's go. Yeah. And don't try to call him. I got no phone in the room. He's done anything. I had no part in it. Just trying to help a friend out. That's all. Just help a friend out. Yeah, sure. You tell him that. Oh, he got me in trouble all because I tried to help him out. You just tell him. Yeah, we will. And tell him not to come around here anymore. Tell him to keep out. Tell him that, will you, for me? Tell him not to come back? Don't you worry about it. He won't be back. We called the office, and another team of detectives came out to the bar to keep the bartender under surveillance in the event that he might try to contact the suspect. It took five and a half minutes to drive to the Woodworth Street address. It was a large building located at the end of a blind street. Room 14 was on the third floor in the front of the building. Frank and I approached the room, and we listened. There was no sound from inside. You want to try the door? Yeah. Come on. Yeah. There he is on the bed. Yeah, looks like the right guy. Yeah, let's wake him up. Come on. Come on, more. Wake up. Come on. Let me alone, Charlie. Come on, get up, more. Get up, one more. I told you, Charlie, let me. Who are you guys? What are you doing here? Police officers, you're under arrest. Now, wake him in that car. Here you go. Now, come on, stand still. All right. All right, I quit. I quit. You want to shake him, Frank? Yeah. Yeah, he's clean. Well, you're taking me. I ain't done nothing. You got no reason to push me around like this. All right, let's go. Where? Where are you going to take me? Downtown. For what? Manslaughter. I didn't do what I did, and you got the wrong guy. You got the wrong one. I didn't do it. Come on, let's move. But you got the wrong one. I didn't do it. I didn't know what you wanted. That's why I run. I didn't know what you wanted. What you do now, so let's go. The suspect was taken to the squad room where he was questioned. He refused to admit any part in the crime. He was confronted with the physical evidence and with the ownership of the hip-run vehicle. The witness to the crime came to the office and said that Jack Moore was the man that she'd seen at the wheel of the car when Helen Chapman had been run down. Throughout the interrogation, the suspect refused to say anything. At 1.47 PM, the door to the squad room opened, and Carl Chapman came in. Where is he? I know he's here. I want to see him. All right, take it easy, Chapman. I heard you call him. I want to see him. I want to tell him. Is that the kid? Are you the one? You're the one who killed Helen? Well, answer me. All right, take it easy, Chapman. Is he the one? The evidence points that way, yeah. Please. I want you to do something for me. What's that? Go away. Out of here, please. We can't do that, Chapman. He's in custody. Please, please leave me alone with him. Come on, Chapman. You better wait outside. Just a minute. Listen to me, kid. When they put you in that cell, you get down on your knees and thank God that they found you before I did. You understand? You thank him, and every day you live, you thank him. You do that because I would have killed you. Take it easy, Chapman. My wife's dead because of him. You hear that? You killed her. They got laws to save people like you, but none for her. None for her and the baby. They didn't have any laws. All right, Chapman, come on. Take it easy, Frank. Come on, sir, yeah. Pretty upset, ain't he? I want you to remember something, kid. In the years I've been in this department, I've seen some bad ones, real bad. Teenage kids that didn't know any better scraped up off the pavement, sent home to their parents. Drunks who were too loaded to know what went on. There's been a lot of them go through here, but you finish way ahead of the field, boy. You talk good. I bet you're on a lecture team around here. I'm getting fed up with you kids roaming the streets and death traps, and I don't care about you. You want to wrap yourself around a post you go ahead. We'll try and stop you, but don't you take somebody else with you. Every year, the number gets bigger. More people killed. It isn't the honest drivers that do it, it's people like you who don't care for anybody else. Now, we've tried about everything in the books to make you understand. Doesn't look like any of them did any good, does it? I'm a bad one, ain't I? You killed a human being, boy, a woman who didn't even know you. She never saw you until it was too late. You threw a 10 and a half a medal at 120 pound woman, and then you ran away and left her in the gutter to die. You wrecked a family. You tore it right down the middle and rolled over it. You've ruined the lives of all the people around that woman. You gave a group of decent kids a bad time because you stole their name. Now, you get on your feet, young fella, and you keep that smart mouth of yours closed. Do you understand? Can I ask you something? What's that? Hit and run. How much will I get? I don't know, but it won't be enough. The story you've just heard is true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On October 14th, trial was held in Department 97, Superior Court of the State of California, in and for the county of Los Angeles. In a moment, the results of that trial. Now, here is our star, Jack Webb. Thank you, George Veneman. Thousands of smokers all across the country are now changing to Chesterfield. We'd like you to give them a try too. I know you'll like them because the Chesterfield you smoke today is the best cigarette ever made. For the taste you want and the mildness you want, Smoke America's most popular two-way cigarette. Regular or king size, Chesterfield. Jack Carlisle Moore was tried and found guilty of manslaughter, one count, and received sentence as prescribed by law. Manslaughter is punishable by imprisonment in the state penitentiary for a period not to exceed 10 years. 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 Winn, Sergeant Frans Brasher. Heard tonight were Ben Alexander, Joyce McCluskey, Harry Bartell, Big Perrin. Script by John Robinson. Music by Walter Schumann. Hal Gibney speaking. Watch an entirely different Dragnet case history each week on your local NBC television station. Please check your newspapers for the day and time. Chesterfield has brought you Dragnet, transcribed from Los Angeles. Filter tip smokers, this is it. L and M filters, the only filter tip cigarette with plenty of good taste, the right length for effective filtration, and just the right filter. Only the L and M filter contains the miracle product, alpha cellulose. You get much more flavor, much less nicotine. This is it. As Bennett surfs it, L and M filters are just what the doctor ordered by L and M filters, America's highest quality and best filter tip cigarettes. You're Rocky Fortune following John Cameron Swayze and the news on the NBC radio network.