 The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. NBC brings you Dragonet. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned a homicide. Somewhere in the tangled web of your city, there's a killer on the loose. A young woman has been brutally murdered. The weapon, a steel bludgeon. Your job is to get him. Dragonet, the documented drama of an actual crime, investigated and solved by the men who unrelentingly stand watch on the security of your home, your family, and your life. 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. Dragonet is the story of your police force in action. It was Thursday, March 19th. It was foggy in Los Angeles. We were working the night watch out of homicide detail. My partner's Ben Romero. The boss is Ed Backstrand, chief of detectives. My name's Friday. It was 9.14 p.m. when I got to the old central jail building, third floor. The crime lab. Hi, Joe. Hi, Common Lee. Just ran a spectrograph. What'd you find? The paint flake from the victim's head matches that paint on the hunk of pipe. Any prints? The pipe was clean, no latent prints. What, figured anything else? Got those blood test reports. A couple of slides for you to look at under the comparison mic. Thanks, Lee. Oh, hi, Joe. Didn't hear you come in. What's it look like, Ben? Here's the blood test reports. This one is blood found on a piece of pipe. Type A. This one's blood from the victim. Type A. They match. That's right, boys. Doesn't mean too much, though. Do you look at these slides under the microscope? No, not yet. Well, this is your clincher. Wait till I get the light. Okay, take a look. Got a make? Yeah, go ahead. Well, this slide here on the right, that's a slice of hair from the victim's head. On the other slide is hair found on the steel pipe. Yeah. She had wavy hair. Both specimens are flat. Same hair, Joe. Got anything on that piece of pipe, Lee? Nothing. Just ordinary steel pipe. 14 inches long. What else you got? The plaster impressions of those footprints we found by the body. Here they are. Crape sole? Tennis shoes. New ones. Size nine. Good impression. Ground was soft. Man, about 150 pounds, according to the length of stride, roughly about 5 feet 10 inches tall. Yeah, new shoes, all right. They're made to manufacture labels. That's right. Made by the Sport King Company. Well, that's something to follow up. Yeah, sure. You could start with the tennis courts. Only about a thousand or so in LA. Maybe you'd rather track down the brand. These particular tennis shoes are the biggest sellers in the country. Yeah. Where'd you like to start? Minneapolis or Pullman, Washington. What about that glove? Yeah, you might look for a missing glove. Yeah. They go well with the shoes, just about as common. White cotton work gloves are the blue top. This is the right glove. You find the left one. Blood on a glove? Type A. That's good evidence, Jones, but where's the lead? Now, look, I don't ask you to pay my parking tickets. You want to see blow-ups? Yeah, okay. Right over here. Oh, yeah. This is the vacant lot where they found the body. Yeah, that's right. Here's a close-up of her showing the location of the murder weapon, the glove, and the footprints relative to the position of the body. Looks as bad as yesterday. Sure did. Worker overdid me. The rest of these are Morgan shots. Interested? No, I checked them this morning. Once is enough, Lee. Well, that winds it, boy. You want to go over the stuff in her purse again? You're finding the thing more? No, nothing you haven't seen already. The usual. Makeup, comb, barrette. That's a hair clip. A few cheap stones in it. Loose change, a quarter, nickel, a few pennies. Her ID card. Yeah, Helen Corday. 33 and a only place. Age 21. 21. That's not very old, is it, Lee? Not to die. No. Helen Corday. Who could kill Helen Corday? Why? Why do you say that, Mr. Meyer? People kill for money. They kill for love. Helen Corday had none of these. No boyfriend? Not in here. No. She was a good worker. Five different invaders as the union sends me one month. Five? Did the union send Helen to you? Sure. Sure. All the girls come from the union, but none like Helen. She's sweet, honest, and courteous. Mr. Meyer, did you know anything about her personal life? Only that she was a good worker. Everything else she took home with her from this place. Did she ever mention any men to you, anyone at all? No gentlemen, not one. How much money did you make here? I paid her $26.50 a week, every Tuesday. Not much salary for so much work, but the tips are very good here. Nice customers. This her home address? 33 and a only place? 33 and a only. That's right. Thank you very much, Mr. Meyer, for your time. I wonder what kind of a person does things like that. Who could kill Helen Courteil? Everybody liked Helen. Helen Courteil? I never liked her. Come on in the office, boys, where we can talk. Never liked her, because I never knew her. You the head of the union? I'm just a steward. I know most of the girls. This Courteil girl, what would she look like? Small brunette, about five-three. Here's a picture. Yeah. Pretty girl, wasn't she? Oh, sure, sure. Placed her out of her place. Nice little Dutch fella. Anna Meyer. That's right. He seemed to think quite a lot of her. Yeah, she was a fine worker. Oh, sure. Always write up on her dues, paid all the assessments right on time. Don't you said you didn't know her? Well, not right off. I didn't, but when you showed me that picture there, placed her right away. You know anything about her personal life? Oh, wait a minute. Why all these questions? Helen Courdeil was murdered last night. Oh, who did it? You know anything about her personal life? Well, you can see my position, Sergeant. 1,200 girls. Check them in, check them out. Just names to me until I see a picture of them. You wouldn't know if she had any boyfriends here in the union, waiters, bus boys? That I wouldn't know. Like I tell you, Sergeant, I never knew Helen Courdeil. I'm sure I knew her. Sure I knew Helen Courdeil. Gus plays a nice piano, huh, Sergeant? Yeah. I read about it in the paper this morning. How long you've been selling pianos here at this place? About as long as I knew Helen. Three years. How'd you find me? Helen's landlady, we talked to her yesterday. She told us she worked here at this piano store. Oh. It's funny, isn't it? What's funny? See Gus over there? That fellow demonstrating the piano? A few weeks ago I made a deal with him to give Helen piano lessons. I figured it would help her with her singing lessons. Wanted to be a singer, you know. Did Helen know that fellow, Gus? No, she never met him. Who gave her the singing lessons, Miss Olsen? She took from Austrander, Paul Austrander out on Melrose. A lot of movie people used to take from him. What do you know about her personal life? How do you mean? Does she have any boyfriends? Well, yes. You don't seem sure, Miss Olsen. Well, it's just that I don't know. I never asked Helen, but she did have a few dates with Paul Austrander. I don't think she was serious. How about Austrander? Gee, I don't know, Sergeant. I don't want to involve anybody. You want to help us find the killer, don't you? Yes, but if you're thinking Paul Austrander did it, no, I'm sure he didn't kill her. That's all for today, Victoria. No, gentlemen, I did not kill Helen for a day. You gave her singing lessons, Mr. Austrander. You knew her pretty well? Yes, I gave her voice coaching for about a year and a half. Helen showed a little promise. Not a great voice, a bad vibrato. You knew her pretty well. Why do you say that? Mr. Austrander, didn't you used to take her out once in a while? No. No, I didn't know Helen socially at all. We know you had dates with her. That's not true. Only times I saw her was when she came here to the studio for lessons. You better tell the truth, Mr. Austrander. We can prove that you've been out with her. Afraid of the publicity, is that it? Certainly that's it. I have a successful business here. I've spent years building it. Anything like this would ruin me. Then you have been out with her. Only a few times. Nothing serious. I had nothing to do with her murder. Now that's the truth. Don't you know that withholding information about a thing like this can go kind of hard for you? Yes, I know that. What else could I do? Mr. Austrander, somewhere in this city right now, there's a guy who beat a young girl to death. He crushed her skull with a piece of steel pipe. We need every bit of information we can get to track him down. You know that, son. You could have come to us. We wouldn't run to the newspapers with it. If the information's confidential, that's the way we treat it. Most of the time, it's the people who run to the newspapers first. Then they come to us. That's right, Mr. Austrander. People are their own press agents. Sergeant, I'd like to know what right you have to invade my privacy and lecture me on my civic duties. All right, I'll tell you what right, Austrander. We want the man who murdered Helen Corday. I got as much right as he had at 12.14 this morning. Come on, Joe. Yeah. Thanks, Mr. Austrander. Sorry if I invaded your privacy. Chief of Detective's Office, Hanan. No, I'm sorry, ma'am. You got the wrong extension. Try 2511. You're welcome. Hi, Friday, Ramel. Chief's been looking for you. Thank you, Mike. Come on, Joe. Yeah. Hello, Joe. Ben. Sit down. What'd you get? A notebook full of notes. A crime lab full of evidence. Nothing to tie them together. These are some of the people you interviewed? Yeah. Those and about a dozen more we didn't even take notes on. It's hard to figure, Skipper. Everybody seemed to like this girl. Helen Corday. No known relatives. Single unattached girl. Living all alone in the city. Few friends and no enemies. None we can find anyway. Are you satisfied that all the people you interviewed are in the clear? Well, if we're going to stick to the simple robbery motive or kind of money Helen Corday made, wouldn't interest those people. How are you doing on the outside, leads? Nothing. If we could just find one hole someplace, anything. All right, now look. You've got a lab full of evidence across the street. You've got a book full of names here. You've got the pieces. Now fit them together. They just don't add. Well, go over them and keep going over them until they do add. Anything from the informants? No, nothing so far. No tips on anybody that's been dough heavy lately. Nobody's shooting off their mouth. The guy we want won't advertise. Figures himself a pretty smooth operator. But he probably made a mistake somewhere along the line. We'll find it. Got a hotshot, Ed. Yeah? 3220 Casino. Woman, probable attack. All right, Friday. You and Ben run it down. They ran down the hotshot call for 3220 Casino. It turned out to be a typical dead-end lead. Her name was Mrs. Lillian Horn. For the past five years, Mr. Horn had been paid regularly on Wednesdays. He spent all day Thursday drinking up his paycheck and beating his wife. The call had no connection with the Corday murder. We made the usual call into communications. Unit 80-K to Control 1, 80-K to Control 1. Control 1 to 80-K, go ahead. On that probable attack, 3220 Casino. Code 4. 80-K, Roger. 80-K to Control 1, KMA 367. That was the beginning. For the next three days, we followed up every lead and every call, but they were all blind. All units were alerted, and they had as much information about the killer of Helen Corday as we did. Ben and I cruised throughout the entire Central Division. We covered every probable call that might have some connection with the murder. Attention, Unit 41R, 1654 Swanson Terrace, a woman, victim of a probable attack. Code 3, Unit 41R. It didn't make any difference what the call was, but there was a possibility it might tie in with the Corday murder we ran it down. We made it a 24-hour job. So far, if the killer made a mistake, we hadn't been able to find it. The Corday funeral was on Monday. They were all there. The girl's landlady, the voice teacher, Ostrander, the girl friend Marie Olsen, the man from the Union, and her boss, Otto Meyer. But nobody else we hadn't checked. That was Monday afternoon. Monday night, we went back to the old routine of tracking calls during the night in the squad car, picking up small threads that led nowhere. Three more days are the same thing. Thursday morning, one week after we found Helen Corday's body, we got an anonymous phone tip. I know who killed Helen Corday. His name's George Barlow. He lives at 418 White Oak Avenue. He used to date her up all the time. Get him and you've got the murder. We checked George Barlow and about 10 others just like him. None of them knew Helen Corday. Saturday night, Ben and I were back in the squad car cruising the Central Division. Saturday night's a good night for Robert. By 10 p.m., we'd run down four various calls. 123, Code 1. 23, Roger. 12G, call your station. In a 13R, 1254 Tower Road. A woman screaming. Investigating trouble. Code 2. Let's handle that one, Ben. Okay, I'll notify communications. Unit 80K to Control 1. 80K to Control 1. Unit 80K, go ahead. On your 1254 Tower Road call, we're in the vicinity, we will handle. 80K, Roger. 80K to Control 1. KM, 8367. Let's go, Ben. Code 1 to 13R, disregard your last call. Handle by 80K. It should be right about here. Oh, here it is. 1254. Ah! Where? Come on. Where'd he go, Joe? Turn right at the next corner. That's him up ahead. He's got a good lead on us. Hit the siren. Took a left at the next corner. I'm going to stop. Close in as tight as you can, Ben. Down to the floor now. Swing out to the left a little. I'm going for his tires. What? That'll slow him down. Pull up on him. Yeah. All right, Joe. Keep both hands on that wheel and get over the curb. Cover me, Joe. Right. Out of that car, mister. Shake him down. Hey, take it easy. I haven't got a gun. Put the cuffs on him. You boys work fast. What am I doing with the gas chamber? Yes, they have that method. That's pretty rough treatment for speeding. All right. Come on, you. Look, I got a right to know where you're taking me. What's the charge? We'll let the girl tell you. What girl? We'll just sit there and be quiet, huh? Oh, I know where you're going. Place back on Tar Road. Well, I asked to use the phone. The girl slammed the door on my face. I don't know what your cops are trying to prove. I just wanted to use the phone. That's all. I even tried to scare a little. I told her I'd hit over the head if she didn't let me use the phone. That's a laugh, huh? All right, you get out. Yeah, I suppose so. Get out. Hey, I got nothing to hide. That little girl's going to lie. You know that, don't you? Police officer. His full name's Frank Philip Larson. They had no previous record. This is the girl's report? Yeah, it's it, Skipper. Uh, Judy Scott. How old is she? He's 19. She's a babysitter. Real tough boy, isn't he? He forced his way into the house, beat her about the neck and arms, and cut her irons. He found it in his car. Jones is running it through the crime lab. Asked her if she had any money. She told him no. Struck her again. Where'd this Larson live? Hotel out near Santa Monica. It's a clothing salesman. He had works for a big men's store, Burns and company. According to the house book sales record, he bought a pair of tennis shoes two weeks ago. It weighs 158 pounds, 5 foot 11 inches. Tennis shoes are missing. They're not in his hotel room. He's not wearing it. What else did you find? A rhinestone. You mean a pin? No, just a small loose stone recovered from the rug in Larson's room. Crime lab got it. Working on it now. Head? I think... We got the man who killed Helen Corday. A few scraps of circumstantial evidence and a hunch. That's not much to go on. Larson had gone after the little Scott girl with a tire iron. It wasn't much of a tie-in, but we had to be sure. All that day, we checked Frank Larson's alibi for the night of Helen Corday's murder. We interviewed the personnel manager at Burns and company where he worked. We talked to all the clerks who knew him. The manager of the hotel where he lived. We found out everything we could about Frank Larson. And that night at 10 o'clock, we had the prisoner brought to the interrogation room. How are you, Larson? Fine. Just fine. I like jail. Sit down. Lousy weather been foggy all over town. I wouldn't know. I've been inside all day. How old are you, Larson? 31. Same as the last time you asked me. Where'd you go to school? I didn't. I was born smart. You sell clothes, don't you, Larson? We know you work for Burns and company. Remember, you told us. What is all this? What are you guys trying to build? I just want to know if you like selling clothes. That's all. Well, you coppers know about clothes. One blue surge a year is your speed. You know quite a bit about clothes, don't you? I've been selling them for five years. Can you tell me something I've been wondering about? What's that? Are your socks and tie always supposed to match? That's what the style books say. Bet you always know the right things the way, don't you? You wouldn't wear black shoes with a brown suit, would you? Is that what you're keeping me here for? Style, isn't it? Oh, would you? Would you wear black shoes with a brown suit? Most people wouldn't. Bet you wouldn't wear brown shoes with a tuxedo, would you? I ain't smoking too much. You got a glass of water? Oh, yeah, sure. There you are, Larson. It's good and cold. How about it? Would you ever wear brown shoes with a tux? Nobody would. That's a navy blue flannel you got on there, isn't it? Yeah. It's a good-looking suit. It's up around some time. It'll get you a good deal. A suit like that flannel there you're wearing? You'd never wear tennis shoes with an outfit like that, would you? What do you think? I think you did. I think you wore them the night you killed Helen Corday. Who? Maybe you didn't have the blue suit on, but you were wearing tennis shoes, Sport King, size nine, sell for $5.95. You picked them up at a discount, cost you three and a quarter. Where'd you get that? Out of the house book, Burns & Company. You wouldn't have those shoes around now, would you? We couldn't find them in your hotel room. Your boss, Mr. Craig, used to think a lot of you, Larson. Before you started drinking on a job, your commission just run pretty high after the last couple of months. What happened? That cheap rye get to you? Well, you two really know it's the round, didn't you? When are you gonna tell me what I eat for breakfast? Corn flakes, cup of coffee, donut, sometimes two donuts when you're hungry. Elsie waits on you at the Royal Café. She gets a dime tip. Can I have some more of that water? Help yourself, Mr. Cooper. Very good and cold. How about it, Larson? Wear the tennis shoes. They wore out. In three weeks? They'd be very good tennis shoes. Oh, they didn't wear out. What'd you do with them? You know all the answers. You figure it out. We know you bought the tennis shoes. We don't know where they are now. We know you had them, size nine. Three feet from the body of Helen Corday, we found two size nine footprints made by a pair of sport king tennis shoes. I figured a man weighed about 150 pounds. You weigh 158. Figured he's about five foot ten. You're 5'11". You come awful close to being the same bill as the man who killed Helen Corday, don't you, Larson? Man, you wear the same size tennis shoes, same brand name. A lot of people wear nines. It's the average size. They sell a lot of sport kings. That's too everybody wears them. If we could find your pair, it might make a difference. It doesn't mean your tennis shoes made to print with a body. It doesn't prove it. It didn't, neither. What'd you do with them, Larson? I threw them away. That's too bad. It might make a difference. Now, what difference could it make? I threw them away, that's all. Now, how about the mate to this glove? I never saw it before. Found this right hand glove by the body of Helen Corday. Just an ordinary cotton work glove. Everybody wears them. If we could find the missing left glove, it might make a difference. Size, medium. That's average, too, isn't it, Larson? I never saw work gloves. I wouldn't know. No, but you bought work gloves, haven't you? Not a pair of those. I mean, like this, don't you? You only got one. What kind of work gloves did you buy? I didn't buy any. You just said you did. I never said I bought any work gloves. You bought tennis shoes, though, didn't you? I told you I bought the tennis shoes. Didn't I tell you I bought them? No, you didn't tell us. We told you. Find out from Burns and Company where you work. All right, you told me. I bought them. You know that. Same kind of tennis shoes that made footprints by Helen Corday's butt. It wasn't me. Then why won't you tell us what you did with them? I told you I threw them away. They were only three weeks old. Must have worn out all for a fact. I didn't say they wore out. They got too dirty. No, you told us they wore out. Remember, Larson? I don't remember what I told you, but I don't have them now. We know you don't have them now. Where are they? He told us they got too dirty. Right, Larson? Yes. Yes, yes. That's what I said. Anyhow, you haven't got them now. No, I haven't got them now. All right, now, just for the record, Larson, which was it? Did they get too dirty or did they wear out? Whatever I said before. You said both before, Larson. All right, I said both. We got that little Scott girl statement from last night. She said you tried to kill her. She's lying. I told you she'd lie, didn't I? I only wanted to use her phone. She says you hit her with a tire iron. Did you hit her with that iron? No, I only tried to scare her. I didn't hit her with anything. Then how'd she get those marks around her neck and arm? Police doctor says they were made by that tire iron. I don't care what your doctor says. I didn't hurt her. Now, what do you mean, Larson? You didn't hurt her or you didn't hit her with that tire iron? Needle one. I just wanted to use her phone. How'd you know she had a phone? I didn't know if she had a phone. Find out. Find out what? Find out if I could use her phone. She said you didn't know if she had a phone. I don't know anything about where you pushed everything around. Sorry, Larson. We only want the truth. How about a cigarette? Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I could use that. Here's a lie. Larson, where were you Wednesday night, March 18th? How many times are you going to ask me that same question? Just want to make sure we got it right. I told you this morning. I went to a show. I got out about 11. Had a beer and I went home. What time did you get home? About 11.30. I went to bed. What'd you see at the show? I never remember the names. You ought to try to remember this, and it's pretty important. I was at Deluxe Theater. I was spent at Tracy and something. What was on when you walked in? The news. I never go in in the middle of a picture. Neither do I. I suppose I'm forming. Yeah. Yeah, that's right. The girl in the box office doesn't remember seeing you go in. She knows. It was keen all night. There's a big crowd. Did you win anything? I never do. Anybody hit the jackpot? I don't remember. They give away a lot of money at those neighborhood theater. I always remember who hits the jackpot. All right, you do. I don't. Do you remember if anybody won the jackpot? I told you, no. Did they have a jackpot at that show? I guess they do. I don't know. You knew it was keen all night. You should know if they had a jackpot. Maybe they had a jackpot. I don't know. I went out for a smoke. You said the cartoon was on when you walked in. Why do you always twist what I say? I told you the news was on when I went in. You remember anything about the newsreel? It was 10 days ago. How do I know it was in it? I only know it was a newsreel. That's all. You're lying, Larson. We checked your alibi. The theater had to cut the newsreel Wednesday night because the show was running long with Kino Night. You didn't go to show Wednesday night, did you? All right, maybe I didn't. I don't remember. What's the difference? The difference is you could have been in that vacant lot the same night. The night Helen Corday was murdered. I didn't kill her. You can't prove I did. Interrogation room Friday. Hi, Jones. It did, huh? You're positive. Uh-huh. Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Lee. Sure, you don't want to tell us what you did with those tennis shoes? I'm not going to go back over all that. I've told you guys all I'm going to tell you. You know how the Corday girl was murdered? How would I know? I don't know anything about it. She was on her way home from work, as usual. About midnight. Of course, you were home in bed about that time. But you didn't go to show that night, Larson. On her way home, Helen Corday always took a short cut across a vacant lot. She was about halfway through the lot when the murderer tried to grab her purse. She screamed and he struck her. Hit her several times with a piece of steel pipe, 14 inches long. He beat her to death with that piece of steel pipe. Then he dropped the pipe and the right hand caught and worked love. He left two footprint, size nine, sport king tennis shoes. I know all that. Well, here's something you don't know. When the killer scooped the paper money out of that girl's purse, he accidentally took along a loose rhinestone, a stone that fell out of a cheap barrette in the bottom of her bag. He carried that stone home with him. When he reached in his pocket to pull out the money he stole from her, the rhinestone fell on the floor. So? We found that rhinestone on the rug in your hotel room. Well, I haven't lived in that hotel room all my life. Maybe the tenant before me dropped it there. No, not this one. We checked the cement that held it in that barrette. It matches the glue on the stone. No, Larson, that rhinestone came from the hair clip that Helen Corday wore before she was murdered. That's enough to take you to the district of Durningwood. What am I supposed to say? We want you to tell us the truth. Why did you kill Helen Corday? Yeah. Do you want the sandwiches and coffee now, surgeon? Bring them in, Mike. Looks like we're going to be here a long time. Yeah, I brought you ham, cheese, and liverwurst and some fruit. The coffee's black. Cream and sugar on the side. Thank you, Mike. That looks good. What kinds you want, Larson? Ham, cheese, liverwurst. Oh, you're not hungry? Okay. Is that with you? No, thanks. I think I'll have an apple, huh? Yeah. I picked you a plate there, Larson. I want coffees right here. It's a fine apple. Nice and fresh. This a Washington apple? Yeah, I don't know. Isn't that coffee hot enough? Yeah, it's fine. Where'd Mike pick these up? Well, across the street. Headies? Yeah, Larson. They taste good. Don't drink your coffee anyway, Larson. All right! All right! I didn't want to kill her. She screamed and I hit her. All I wanted was her purse. That's all I wanted. She didn't give to me. She had to fight back, so I hit her. I didn't want to kill her. All she had to do was give me the purse. I wouldn't know what it was. Stay with him. We'll call the stenographer. See you tomorrow, Joe. Good night. Yeah. Sour racket, huh? You have just heard is true. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent. Frank Philip Larson was tried and convicted of murder in the first degree. He was executed in the lethal gas chamber at the state penitentiary. You have just heard the fifth in a new series of authentic cases from official files. Technical Advice for Dragnet is furnished by the Los Angeles Police Department. Tonight's program is dedicated to police officer Charles A. Brady of the Chicago Illinois Police Department, who on the night of September 2nd, 1945, gave his life so that yours might be more secure. Dragnet came to you from Los Angeles. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.