 in Colorado Springs, Colorado. A group of men are gathered together for their annual conference. For their day in, day out service to the public. Dragnet honors the 57th annual conference of the International Association of Chiefs of Police. I pray 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 burglary detail. A man posing as a doctor is burglarizing homes in your city. You have his description. Your job. Find him. Ah, that's different. Yes, what a difference. In Fatima, the difference is quality. You see, Fatima is the quality king size cigarette because it contains the finest Turkish and domestic tobaccos, superbly blended. And Fatima is extra mild with a much different, much better flavor and aroma than any other long cigarette. Because of its quality, its extra mildness, its better flavor and aroma, Fatima has more than doubled its smokers coast to coast. Fatima's cost the same as other long cigarettes, but your first puff will tell you... Ah, that's different. Yes, in Fatima, the difference is quality. Ask your dealer for Fatima, the quality king size cigarette. Best of all, long cigarettes. Start enjoying Fatima tomorrow. Dragnet, the documented story 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 Sunday, November 22nd. It was chilly in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out of burgery detail. My partner's Ben Romero, the boss of Stad Brown Chief of Detectives. My name's Friday. It was 9.35 a.m. when we got to 5918 Canyon Cove, the home of Marla Hutchins. Yes. Miss Marla Hutchins. I'm Miss Marla Hutchins. We're police officers, ma'am. This is Sergeant Romero. I'm Sergeant Friday, Central Burgary. Come in. Thank you. Betty told me she called you. Your ma'am? Yes, I'm Betty, Greg. I called you. I wonder if you could tell us what happened, please. Dr. Arthur Schulte was treating me for headaches I have. He took my main coats and my jewelry. Mm-hmm. You have a list of what's missing? Betty will have a list of what's missing. Here. I've written down everything I think, Spelm. Thank you. Why do you say it was this, uh, Dr. Schulte? Is that right? Yes. Why do you say it was him that took things, Miss Hutchins? He did it. I know he did it. The doctor was the only other person in the apartment officer. When was this? Last night. What time was the doctor here last night? It was about 8. I heard him leave later, about 9.15. Is that right, Miss Hutchins? Yes, that's right. Could the apartment have been entered without either one of you knowing it? No, sir. The back entrance is double-latched. No one could have broken in the front way my rooms right beside the front door, and I would have heard. You told us on the phone that this Dr. Schulte was, uh, middle-aged, dark, close to 5 feet 11, stocky, and where's the goatee? Yes. No other distinguishing features? Is that correct? Yes. How about his clothes, where he was dressed? He was about average. He had on a gray suit the last time we saw him. Thank you. You know who he is? We'll find out. What kind of treatment were you taking from Dr. Schulte, Miss Hutchins? We call it, we have no therapy for my headaches. Last night, the same thing? Yes. Anything different from his previous visits? I was very nervous. He made me take three sleeping capsules and I went to sleep. She was still sleeping this morning when I went in and found everything in the dressing table all over the floor. Have you known this Dr. Schulte long, Miss Hutchins? About four months. Did you meet him at a party, maybe? No, I was a student of his. Where was this? This small college in Hollywood. He was there at the school. He was a teacher, too. Do you have the name and address for the college? That he can give it to you. It's in my desk. You were still a student there? No. I don't take the course. I stopped. The college was closed that's when he came here to treat me for my headache. How did he start giving you these treatments, Miss Hutchins? One day in his lecture, I fainted to his office and told me that pain was only a state of mind. Yes, ma'am. My headache didn't bother me anymore. He said that relief would only be temporary if I didn't take regular treatment. What did you see him regularly? I saw him twice a week. Twice a week. Always here? If the college isn't closed, I don't know why. The telephone in the city would continue here. Well, what did you get in touch with when the college closed? I have a video called here. Do you have any idea where he is now? No, I just know that he's at least. Why don't you lie down, Miss Hutchins? You look tired. All right. Thank you, Miss Hutchins. Yes, ma'am. Thank you very much. All right. Would you gentlemen like some coffee? Oh, ma'am. I could sure use them. They'll be very nice, Miss. Thank you. Officer. Yes, ma'am. If this man's just a common thief, treatments he's been giving Miss Hutchins couldn't have been very good, could they? She's still got the headaches, hasn't she? 11.50 a.m., we checked the apartment for physical evidence. There was nothing to indicate that the place had been broken into. We put in a call to latent fingerprints to send a man out to check the closet and dresser. We completed the crime report, and Betty Gregg, the maid, gave us the name and address of Dr. Schulte's college, the Los Angeles College of Psychotherapeutics and Psychiatry at a Franklin Street number in Hollywood. Ben and I got out of teletype to Sacramento asking information on the chartering of the school that Dr. Schulte was appointed. We checked on Betty Gregg, the maid, and found that she was a Los Angeles girl, parents still living in the city. She had a good reputation. 2.35 p.m., we went to the address where the college had been. It was a big, brown, clavoured house with several dormer windows facing the street. It was vacant. The front door was boarded up. A rental agency sign was stuck up on one of the pillars on the front porch. You know, the front room there must have been where they had come from. What room there? Must have been where they had classes. Those are chairs nailed down, you see? Let me look. I don't see any papers inside, no mail. Hi. Yeah. My name is Tom Thompson. You interested in the place? You're the agent? No, no, I just live next door. I'm a dry cleaner myself, but I sort of promised a real estate agent I'd keep an eye peeled, see if I could be of help, and he would get my chap. The police officers were just checking. Oh, is there something wrong? Somebody break in? Did you live next door when this was a school here? Yeah, that's psychology punch there, but 10 months maybe less. I always thought it was kind of a shoestring operation. How do you mean? Oh, you know, not much, though. They're just making it into me, no class, you know? Always just adults? Well, classes used to be mostly during the day. I was at work with wifeies to tell me. No kids at year or so. Did you know the man that ran the school? No, I would use a middle-aged guy with a kind of a pointed beard. Had a pal or a younger guy. Never stopped to talk. They're pretty tight-mouthed guys, like I said. Why would they do? No team investigation, Mr. Thompson. Do you have any idea where they might be contacted now? No, no. The interstate agent said they skipped without paying last month's rent for him. He's been trying to find a... Do you remember their names? Oh, well, let's see. When at the older guy, the guy with the beard was named Schultz or something like that. I can't remember the young fella a little bit. Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute, I got that door. How's that? I got that door. The agent let me have the front door. I'm building a patio porch in the back of my house and the glass that I took out of the door has got the names lettered on it. Oh, that's fine. Come on. I'll see if I still got it in the garage. It's right around here. Okay. A little chilly today, huh? Yeah, a little. You want to stand back? I'll hit you when I open it. Watch the doorbell. Here we go. I like to keep a nice neat garage. Sure looks nice. Oh, thanks. Say, do these men live in the house, Mr. Thompson? They just use it for the school, you know? Oh, best of all, just for classes. Like I said, they're pretty tight-lit guys. Not very friendly. They're real quiet. Mm-hmm. Yeah, here it is. I got it. Just leave it right there. We'll come over there. Okay. Here's the psychotherapeutics and psychiatry. Dr. Arthur William Schulte. Schulte. D-A-A-P-H-D-S-C-D. Well, of course the Schultes. Dr. Leo George Donaldson. D-V-P-H-D-S-C-D. Mm-hmm. I got it, Jim. Okay, fine. Well, much obliged, Mr. Thompson. Here's our card. If you hear anything regarding these men, we'd appreciate you calling us. Oh, sure, sure. I'd be glad to. Wait a minute. Here's my card. Ideal cleaners over in Ivar. If you get around that way, I'll drop some stuff off. I'll see if it gets special attention. Well, thank you very much, Mr. Thompson. No, it's okay. I'm sure glad I didn't throw that glass away. Brother, look at all that there's after the names, eh? Wonder what it takes to get a lineup of degrees like that. Paintbrush in about 10 minutes. 5 p.m. Ben and I drove back to the office. There was a report from latent fingerprints. Nothing but the prints of the two girls had been found in the Hudson's apartment. We checked what information we had on Schulte and Donaldson through to the FBI on the teletype. A check of doctors registered with the Los Angeles County Medical Association and the American Psychiatric Association failed to turn up anybody named Dr. Schulte. We had our eye bureau and stats office make runs on Leo Donaldson and Schulte and a run down on the reports where the burger had posed as a psychologist. The stats office turned up a couple of dozen new suspects. We pulled the mug shots and headed to the Hudson's apartment. Looks like something doing at the Hudson's apartment house. A lot of cruiser cars, huh? Let's have a look. Sorry, can't go in. Oh, sorry, it's a Friday Romero Central Burgerie. Oh, sure, sorry. What's the trouble? Grill name of Hutchins shot herself. You are listening to Dragnet. Authentic stories of your police force in action. Ah, that's different. Yes, what a difference. There's a difference you can hear. There's a difference you can see. But the difference in Fatima is quality. Yes, friends, when you compare long cigarettes, you'll find that in Fatima, the difference is quality. Quality of tobaccos. The finest Turkish and domestic varieties, extra mild and superbly blended to give you a much different, much better flavor and aroma than any other long cigarette. Quality of manufacture. Smooth plump cigarettes rolled in the finest paper money can buy. Quality even to the appearance of the bright clean yellow package, carefully wrapped and sealed to bring you Fatima's rich, fresh, extra mild flavor. Fatima's cost the same as other long cigarettes, but your first puff will tell you... Ah, that's different. Yes, in Fatima, the difference is quality. Ask your dealer for Fatima, the quality king-size cigarette. Best of all, long cigarettes. Start enjoying Fatima tomorrow. Monday, November 23rd. During the morning, the coroner's office signed off Marla Hutchins' case. The verdict was that she had taken her own life. The police psychiatrist told us that probably the hypnotic treatments by Schulte had hastened her death. The information we'd received from the Medical Association told us that they had had complaints against the operation of a Schulte school. They'd pointed out to us that it takes over 12 years in recognized medical schools to become a member of the American Psychiatric Association. Schulte had been mass-producing pseudo-psychiatrists in eight weeks. 1.40 p.m., we met with Captain Pullman. The school was a phoning, decrees and diplomas sold to anybody who had cash. They're not operating anymore? Let me check that out. They're gone. Well, here's the answer to your teletech to Sacramento. Thank you. It gives details on the application for the school of Schulte. He's listed as founder and dean. Donaldson has listed as staff. No addresses other than the Franklin Street number there. Anything else? A month ago, Leo Donaldson opened courses of instruction in Los Angeles under the title of California Physician's College of Psychiatry, 781 Southville Street. Schulte Associated Winning? No. Have any idea where Schulte is? No, we don't, but we're looking. We've got the support of the medical people to push a bunco charts for the operation of the old school. Donaldson should be able to give you a lead on Schulte. Figures he might be in contact. Looks like they actually ran the school together even though Schulte was legally responsible. Ben and I have an idea on how maybe we can find out. How's that? We thought one of us could make a pitch to Donaldson to see if he'd sell a degree from the new school. Get evidence to support a bunco warrant and check at the same time to see if Donaldson has contact with Schulte. I'll let the bunco detail know we're trying. You think you can do it? I can try. You know anything else about Donaldson's courses? No, that doesn't bother me. Okay. Neither does Donaldson. In trying to get Schulte through his former associate, Leo Donaldson, we again contacted the Medical Association. They furnished this with the name of Ralph Morris, a graduate of the Franklin Street School who had since been killed in an auto accident. Tuesday, 11.30 a.m. Ben and I get to 781 South Hill Street, a seven-story office building in the heart of the Los Angeles business district. The directory and the lobby list of the California psychiatry for rooms 214 and 216. Ben waited outside in the car. I took the elevator up. Dr. Donaldson? I'm Dr. Leo Donaldson. May I have your assistance? Well, my name is Frank Ditten. I wanted to ask about the curriculum here. Well, we've just opened, Mr. Ditten. We're not quite ready to start classes. You understand this is a very advanced instruction. Most of our students will have had considerable background in psychiatry. Oh. Well, a friend of mine, Dr. Morse, said that he was sure I'd be a good student for you. Dr. Morse? Mm-hmm. I'm not sure I place him. Well, he was one of your students at the Franklin Street School. He said that Dr. Schulte knew him quite well. Oh, oh, yes. Yes, I remember. Brilliant, man. How's he getting along? He was killed in the car collision. Oh, that's too bad. Well, frankly, what I was interested in was being able to take over his practice. Could I get the same deal he got? I think so, Mr. Ditten. What'd you have in mind? Well, take some courses and get a degree. I worked with Morse for a while. I can set up a clinic. He did OK. I figure maybe I can, too. Well, here's a list of the courses we'll offer. I can't look over it together, and you can indicate what sphere of study you'd like to take. Mm-hmm. Is Dr. Schulte teaching any of these courses? No, he doesn't. Now, the first semester will include painless and drugless childbirth, practical and applied psychology, auto-suggestion, prenatal suggestion. Yeah. Well, look, Dr. Donaldson, the straight, practical and applied psychology is the specialty that I want. See? What degree do I get and how much will it cost? Well, the least expensive is a doctor of psychotherapy at $450. A doctorate of philosophy in psychology is $500. Mm-hmm. For all purposes, if you can afford it, Mr. Ditten is a doctorate of science at $800. Wow. That course was $1,000 at the Franklin Street School. Yeah. Well, I don't know. That's a lot of money. Yes, I have to have it, though. I wonder if you'd take a check now. Certainly. You understand what a tremendous advantage these degrees are to the professional man who, for one reason or another, may never have had a chance to get a college diploma. Mm-hmm. Well, the course is very hard. You look like an intelligent man, Mr. Ditten. I'm sure you'd have no difficulty. All right. I'll say, look, Dr., I live out in Van Nuys now, and I'm working three days a week. The present time is going to be pretty tough to get downtown here. Do I have to be here every day? Since it's the diplomas most of our students are interested in, we have, on occasion, made exceptions in cases like yours. I'd appreciate that. We could possibly, in the case of a doctorate of science, present you with your diploma in advance. You're taking the course, and you could launch a practice at once, take the course whenever it suited you. Well, I couldn't ask for a better deal. Everything's mentioned in this catalog. The forms are in the back. Why don't you sit down right there? Oh, thank you very much. And rules and regulations. No books are required of students. Lots of break, huh? We lecture a little differently from some colleges, and therefore we've dispensed with texts because we feel they tend to confuse the data. Mm-hmm. And when I take the course, who will be my instructor? I will. Well, Morris talked a lot about Dr. Schulte. Does he teach any of the classes? No, Dr. Schulte was associated with me in the operation of the Franklin Street School, but is not the staff member of the California Physicians College of Psychiatry. Well, uh, I was just wondering, if I paid extra, could I get some classes with him? Morris said that he picked up a lot of useful information from Schulte. He's a fellow with a goatee in me. Yes, that's right. Well, truthfully, I have no idea where Dr. Schulte's presently located. I understand. There's, uh, one regulation here. No student will be admitted who cannot show documentary proof of the successful completion of secondary school work. High school? You can understand that, can't you, Mr. Ditten? I mean. Well, there are certain minimum academic standards we must observe. Yeah. In order to maintain the quality of our degree. Dr. Donaldson accepted my check to the amount of $800. I asked for a receipt, and he filled out a blank doctorate of science degree, which he carefully lettered with the name Frank Ditten, and signed himself as dean. I arrested Donaldson, and Ben and I took him in for booking. 1 p.m. We received a long teletype from Washington. Arthur Schulte had a record of arrests and convictions back east. It started with a conviction 16 years ago for the interstate transportation of pornographic motion pictures. The record gave us no known addresses, but important in the information was the fact that Schulte had originally been trained and had worked at being a projectionist in movie theaters. In the M.O. was the notation that he'd been known to take up his old occupation when sought by authorities. 1 p.m. We contacted the local office of the Motion Picture Projectionist Union, where they told us they had placed Arthur Schulte in the booth of one of the main street newsreel houses on Sunday. That was the day before. 2 p.m. The Crescent Theater was buried between two bars and advertised an hour of newsreels and short subjects for 20 cents. Where's the manager? I'm him. Can we talk to you a minute, police officers? What? I say we're police officers. We'd like to talk to you. Nobody here to take over. Why don't you come in and I can open the booth door here and talk. Okay. Right around the back, I guess, here it been. Thanks. Where is he? Hey, mister. Okay. What's the trouble, officer? Do you have a man with the name of Schulte working here? That's right. Projectionist isn't working right this minute, though. It's on duty at four an hour, all right? I wonder if you'd take a look at this description, please. There you are. 511. Man working here is clean shaven, no goatee. That sounds the same. Any idea where he lives? No, I don't. But we'll have to wait for him here. All right. Wait a minute. This one? Where you want to wait? Inside? Well, I think we'd rather stay up in the projection booth if it's all right. Up the steel stairs there on the right. Tell Pete Eigen. He's the man up there now. I said it was okay. All right. Don't say anything to him when he gets here. What is it, sir? I won't, officer. All right. Come on, Ben. Get this way. It's a long climb, huh? Yeah, it is. It's right up there. Oh, yeah. Hey, mister. Mister. Police officers. Is there anything wrong? We're going to have to wait here. The manager said it was okay. Wait for what? We want to talk to your relief man. You mean the doc? You know him? Just since yesterday. Why do you call him the doc? Well, you know, he speaks kind of fancy for a projectionist. What do you do? Oh, he just likes to talk to him. Okay, you know, the guy doesn't come on for about an hour. Yeah, they told us. You want to look at the picture? You can both sit by the observation board on the film stage there. Yeah, thanks. Cool. Sit over here, Ben. Is this all right here? Yeah, that's fine. Well, what's the matter? I've seen this news reel. 5.45 p.m. Shulte was nearly two hours late. Ben and I were worrying about whether somehow he'd been tipped. Usual for a man to be this late for a shift, not in a house like this. Bigger houses would be different. Wait here for the doc to be late like this. Just cost the boss a couple of bucks. How do you mean? I get more dough. I'm over my maximum hours. The old guy would stay away long enough if I'd be on golden. Golden? What's that? Yeah, double and a half times. Boys in the business call it golden time. Most of all, you can get it double golden. You get that working over a maximum number of hours after midnight on a Sunday. Uh-huh. That's double golden. Never happened to me, though. How do you stand this? What do you mean, the money? Not annoying. You'll get used to it. Don't pay any attention after a while. Don't you get tired of hearing the same soundtrack over and over? No, you just know it's there. It never registers what they're saying, I mean. Just if it stops when it shouldn't. Get used to it over the years. How's it been doing this long? Eleven. It's a long time. Excuse me. I gotta make a switch over. What'd you say? I said I gotta make a switch over. I've been watching you do that all afternoon. How do you know when to turn the other projector on? Mark's on the film, up in the right corner on the screen. Usually a black dot. Look through the window. Look, Ben, right here. Mm-hmm. The first dot tells me to start the other projector. When the second dot hits, I cut this one, turn on the other one. Now watch. Say the first one. Uh-huh. Now the second dot, see? Uh-huh. You never know the difference. Simple stuff. People never seem to notice the switches. Just a minute. All right, Doc. We're late. Sorry, over-slip. Your name, Sheldon? That's right. Police officers would like to talk to you. I have to go to work. Never mind. You want to go downstairs? All right. This way. All right, this'll be fine right here. You say your name is Shulte, Arthur William Shulte? That's correct. Ever been known by any other name? Why? You operate a school called the Los Angeles College of Psychotherapeutics and Psychiatry during the past year. I'm not saying anything. Where you living, Mr.? I'm not saying anything. Let me see your identification. Here. Now you hold it. See? Open that part there. All right, take out the card. Union card. We'll take it down. Social security card. That, uh, second thing behind the cash. Yeah. Let's try to pull a piece of paper there. It's just a bill. What is it, Jim? It's a bill. Millican Hotel. Let's go. We drove to the Millican Hotel about six blocks from the theater in the same Skid Road district. We got the key from the room clerk and went up to Shulte's room. It looked like any dingy hotel room. A small foot locker sat at the end of the bed in the baggage stand. Two suitcases were over by the closet and sitting on the floor alongside the bureau where two waist-high stacks of books. You got the key to the small trunk. I don't have to submit to this. Let's open it up. Open it yourself. Here's the key. All right. I'll check the rest of the room, Joe. All right. This your property, doctor? I'm not saying anything. Just close regular stuff in the bureau. How about those suitcases over there? How about this? It's a guard box. It's a taped shut. What's inside, doctor? Nothing. You'd be interested in. I'll open it, Joe. Bracelets, rings, match-deer rings. Fit our stolen property reports. These were gifts. People say you took them. They're sick. I've done them a lot of good. They know. They thank me this way. How? People I get these things from, they know I've helped them. Will you help Marla Hutchins? Heard was true. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent. Arthur Schulte, free on bail pending trial, died of natural causes on June 15th in Fresno, California. Leo Donaldson was tried and convicted of grand theft and served a term prescribed by law in the state penitentiary. And now, here is our star, Jack Webb. Thank you. When the rookie policeman becomes a full-fledged member of the department, one of the first things he becomes aware of is the time-worn tradition of the peace officer. He has pride in the men he works with, pride in his job. The men who make Fatima take great pride in their job. They too uphold a tradition. The Fatima tradition of quality. You see, Fatima contains the finest Turkish and domestic tobaccos, suburbally blended, and pack after pack they're extra mild. If you're a long cigarette smoker like I am, and have not yet enjoyed Fatima, buy a pack tomorrow. Compare Fatima with other long cigarettes. You'll find they cost the same, but in Fatima, the difference is quality. Smoke Fatima. Ladies and gentlemen, the chief of police of the city of Los Angeles, W.H. Parker. The Los Angeles Police Department awards this citation of merit to dragnet for its authentic portrayal of cases from the files of this department, bringing great credit to the Los Angeles Police Department and its officers, and enhancing the prestige of law enforcement generally among its millions of listeners. Thank you, Chief Parker. 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. Next, we the people three times mean good times on NBC.