 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 Wednesday, February 16th. It was cool in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out a homicide division. My partner's Frank Smith. The boss is Captain Warman. My name's Friday. I'm on my way back to the interrogation room. It was 8.46 p.m. when we got to room 42. Homicide. You think you'll cop out? I don't know. Probably won't make much difference anyway. Yeah. Now keeping the gun, that was his big mistake. I wonder why she gave him the chance. What do you mean? Well, he'd beaten her a couple of times before. Neighbors all said so. You think she'd have walked out on him? That's what she was trying to do. Well, she should have tried sooner. You got any plans for dinner? No, not especially why. They said she's not going to want any dinner. She'll fix something for the kids and tell me to eat downtown. That's a switch, isn't it? Sure is. Tell you the truth, Joe. She's kind of sore at me. This is her way of getting even. Is that so? Yeah. Woman expects a man to remember everything. Let them slip up just once. It's the end of the world. Is that right? Birthdays, anniversaries, Mother's Day, Christmas, Lincoln's Birth, everything. What would you forget this time? Valentine's Day. Oh, yeah. I knew there was something eating her when I got home that night. She didn't say a word until the next morning. Then she hands me a tie. Stripes like that brown and red one from last Christmas only. That's when it was maroon and gray. Yeah. Said she didn't want to give it to me on Valentine's Day because she knew how embarrassed I'd be. You know, on account of not having a present for her. Well, why don't you get her some flowers or some candy to make up for it? She told me not to, Joe. Said she didn't want anything unless I thought of it myself and on the right day. See, you don't understand women, Joe. You can't make up for a mistake. They won't let you. Watch that. I got it. For us? Liquor store out in Pico. Yes. Dead body. We drove out to the Evendale liquor store in West Pico Boulevard. The owner, Cecil Evendale, was lying on the floor behind the counter. He'd been shot to the chest and he was already dead when the body was discovered. The team from robbery detail and Sergeant Jay Allen on a crew from the crime lab arrived a few minutes after we did. They began their investigation and we talked to the patrol car officers who'd found Evendale's body. We were just cruising by and we saw the front door stand and wide open. No sign of Evendale so we thought maybe we ought to look around. Came inside, gave the place a once over, spotted him just like he is now. You're sure he's the man who owned the store, huh? Oh, yeah, that's Evendale, all right. He's had trouble before. How's that? A couple of boys held him up you know, must be about a month ago now. We answered the call. I see. They picked up the same night. Evendale had their license number. You had a conviction? First degree robbery. Well, it can't be them if they're in the joint. I'll check on it, Joe. If it was another hole up, they didn't get away with much. Oh. The cash register was open when they came in. Still full, $50, $75. That's my guess. Well, maybe something scared them off. The street was empty. No cars, nobody. Funny they left all that money just lying there in the drawer. That's not the only funny thing around here. Who you got, Jay? Found the casing. Take a look. It's 38, huh? Yeah. Slug went right through him and his chest out the back, right through, clean as a whistle. Who, who? Sure got me, Buffalo. What do you mean? A slug. Yeah. Frank came back from the telephone with the information that the two men who had previously robbed the Evendale liquor store were now serving their sentences in San Quentin. While Sergeant Jay Allen and the crew from the crime lab continued to search for the missing slug and any other physical evidence, we canvassed the area for somebody who might have heard the shooting. 9.53 p.m. We found a drug store in the next block that was still open for business. Fountains closed. That's what you're after. No, sir, we'd like to talk to you for a minute. Talk? What about? Four police officers. It's Frank Smith. Four police, huh? That's right. I thought I heard sirens a while back. What's been going on around here? Well, there was some trouble at the liquor store down the street. Cease Evendale's place? Yeah. You shouldn't have let it happen. I beg your pardon? You're police officers, ain't you? Yes, sir, we are. He was robbed just a few weeks ago. You should have figured somebody had tried again. You should have been watching him, making sure he was all right. Well, it's a pretty big town, so there's a lot to watch. Too big, if you ask me. Why don't they go home? What's that? All them folks who keep moving to LA. Twenty-five years ago, I come here. Things were a lot different then. Man could drive down the street, find a place to park his car. There was room to move around in. Elbow room. Mm-hmm. More people coming all the time, getting so crowded a man can't breathe. Yes, sir. You see anybody who might have done the shooting? Tonight, you mean? Yes, sir. Anybody suspicious? Nobody suspicious come in here. Not since I got back from supper at least, ways. What was that? 7.30. Right around in there. Don't think I've had more than a half a dozen customers since supper time. Ms. Jacobs, her youngsters, got the group sold her some cough syrup, ought to relieve it some. Then there was a couple of boys bought coke, spread the magazine. Well, how old were they? 10, 12, just shavers. Uh-huh. Fellow come in for a carton of cigarettes. Don't know his name, but he lives around here somewhere. Been in a half dozen times before. Don't recall anybody else. Well, how about out on the street? Mm-hmm. Did anybody walk by or hang around who doesn't belong in the neighborhood? How the heck would I know? You can't even see the street from in here when it gets dark. Yes, sir. Blackest pitch out there. Been after them for the last five years to put up a street lamp. Been begging them. What do they do? Just raise my taxes and spend the money on freeways and gadgets so as more strangers will come flooding in on us. Oh darn, shooting could have took place right there on my sidewalk. I wouldn't have been able to see it. Yes, sir. Well, thanks anyway. I say, wait a minute. Come to think of it, I did spot a couple of fellas acted kind of funny too, like they didn't want me to see him. You know what I mean? I think so. It was then when I was walking home to supper. No. No, it was when I was on my way back. That'd be about 7.30. We'll give her take a couple of minutes. Well, they would just stand there in the doorway kind of. Turn their backs toward me as I walked past them. Could you describe them for us? I said they turned their backs. Yes, sir. Not that it made no never mind. So darn dark out there. I couldn't describe them if they'd been coming at me head on. You got any idea how tall they were? Medium height, I guess. How are they dressed? Didn't notice. Except for one of them. Yes, sir. Jacket he was wearing. Notice that. I was thinking it was so loud you could see it in the dark. Kind of plaid. You know big criss-crosses? Mm-hmm. What color was it? Must have been light. Some kind of light color. Tan, maybe with green in it. Not sure. Is there anything else you can tell us about these two men? I think I've done pretty good to give you that much. Yes, sir, you have. Thank you. I'm not saying they had anything to do with shooting C7's tail. You understand? Yeah, we understand. It's up to you to find out who did it and bring him to justice. Yes, sir. Don't know what's getting into this town. Man ain't safe in his own store. More crime all the time. More criminals. It wasn't like this 25 years ago. Maybe not. Why should there be more now? Well, you gave us the reason. What? More people. 11.36 p.m. We went back to the liquor store. The body had been moved to the county morgue. Jay Allen told us that he and his crew had searched the walls, the floor, the furniture. There was no physical evidence and still no trace of the slug that had killed C11 Dale. The next morning, February 17th, we again returned to the neighborhood and searched and shopkeepers in the vicinity. None of them had any leads. 12.05 p.m. We went back to the office. I don't get you were right, Joe. What about? Hey, when I got home last night, she was expecting candy or flowers or something. Well, I thought she told you not to buy her anything. Yeah, but that didn't keep her from being disappointed when she didn't get anything. Well, what'd she say? She didn't say. She just looked. I got it. Hormicide Friday. Is this right? No, we're on that. When? I assume. May I tie in? Yeah. Give me that dress? Okay. You all right? Thank you. The office just got a report from a clinic out of the wheelchair. A man came in to see him this morning. Yeah. Had a 38 slug in his chest. We drove out to a small medical center a few blocks west of Amman Avenue when we went into the offices of Dr. J. Y. Springer. Good afternoon, gentlemen. Good afternoon. Dr. Springer in? Do you have an appointment? The police officers. Oh. Dr. Bezzie? Well, he does have a patient with him right now. I see. We'll wait. I'll tell him you're here. I'm sure it won't be long. Thank you. Might as well sit down. Yeah. You think we're on the right track, Joe? I don't know. That slug isn't in the liquor store. That's for sure. Jay says there isn't a mark on the walls. Yeah. Sure had to hit something. Or somebody. Yeah. You want a magazine? No. No, thanks. That's funny. What? There's a brand new issue. A new magazine in the doctor's office. What's the matter? It's a medical journal. The doctor will see you now. Thank you. In here. Thank you. Dr. Springer? That's right. Police officers. This is Frank Smith. My name's Friday. How do you do? How do you do, sir? What can I do for you, gentlemen? First thing, you took a bullet out of a man's chest this morning. Oh, that. Am I telling you, Spider? No, no, not a bit. The young man came into the office. Must have been around 10 o'clock. Yes, sir. He told me that he and a friend had been looking at some guns last night. One of them went off accidentally. I examined the wound. It was quite superficial. The bullet had barely penetrated the skin. I removed it, put on a bandage. That's all there was to it. I see. Very superficial. Didn't even need instruments. He could have squeezed it out himself if he tried. Was he a regular patient of yours, doctor? No. No, I'd never seen him before. He said he was just passing through LA. Could you describe him for us? Well, he was in his late teens or early 20s. Dark hair, stocky, weighed about 170, I judge. How tall? 5'7", 5'8". Mm-hmm. Any distinguishing marks or scars, did you recall? No. Nothing like that. How was he dressed? Slacks, sports shirt, loud jacket. Loud? Yes, a plaid of some sort, green and brown. The shirt was open at the collar, no tag. When you called in, you reported that his name was Clyde Beaton. That's right. You think it might be his real name, doctor? I'm sure of it. Oh. You should be very careful whenever you treat a bullet wound. I always ask for identification. Yes, that's a good idea. The young fellow was a little embarrassed at first. He didn't have any. Low driver's license? He was in his other suit. I told him he'd have to stay here until I could contact the police. What'd he do then? He fished through his pockets, found a letter he'd recently received. I took the name from the envelope, Clyde Beaton. Seems sufficient identification under the circumstances. Mm-hmm. Did you get Beaton's address? He said he was staying at the Crown Prince Hotel on Sunset. About what the letter said? I'm afraid I don't remember. It was the name I was chiefly interested in. I understand. Did you keep the slide, doctor? Mm-hmm. The bullet you took out of his chest? No, I'm afraid not. He wanted it for a souvenir. The report said it was a 38. That's right. 38 caliber. You sure of that? I've handled guns all my life. It's a hobby. I see. Is this a serious medicine? I'm afraid we don't know yet. The wound was very superficial. Yes, sir. I remember telling him how lucky he was that the bullet hadn't gone in deeper. Well, he could have been luckier. How's that? If it hadn't hit him at all. We drove over to the Crown Prince Hotel. They told us that no one by the name of Clyde Beaton had been registered during the past month. They also told us that they had no guest who answered the suspect's description. We checked the name through R and I. They had nothing on him. We also checked the telephone books, city directories. We came up with two Clyde Beatons. The first one was an elderly man who lived on Highland Avenue. We interviewed him and learned that he suffered from arthritis and had been bedridden for the past two years. He had no living relatives except for a daughter who kept house for him. The second Clyde Beaton lived on Washington Boulevard. We drove out to the address. It was a two-story brick and stucco apartment house. Yes. Mr. Beaton in? No, he isn't. You know where we can find him? What for? The police officers. What? It's Frank Smith. My name's Friday. Are you Mrs. Beaton? Yes. This is Clyde Beaton. That's right. Could you tell us where your husband is, please? Well, he's not here. Yes, ma'am. Where is he? Chicago. Oh. Been there since last Friday. You sure, then? What's this all about? Police business. Do you mind if we come in for a minute? Well, no, I guess not. We can't talk very loud. The baby's asleep. Yes, ma'am. You say your husband's in Chicago? Since last Friday. Business trip? Well, in a way. He's a plastic salesman. The company's having a convention. Let me see. He did a bit of road park work and then the other West Coast representative, and that's why they took him. What for? It's only been with him a couple of years practically the youngest man on the force. Yes, ma'am. He even had a dinner last night. Gave him a plaque. Last night? He called me afterwards. Long distance. From Chicago. Don't you believe me? Yes, ma'am. Your husband had a gun this week. What? A pistol or a revolver. Well, I... Well, does he, Miss Begum? Well, yes. He has a gun. Do you take it with him? No, of course not. Why would he take a gun to Chicago? Would you get it for us, please? It's in the bedroom. Your old drawer. The baby's there. We'd like to see it, Miss Begum. All right. Well, the convention in Chicago should be easy to check. Okay. Yeah, too easy. Well, if a guy was setting up an alibi, he'd pick something tougher to crack with me. You think we've struck on? Could we? I'm sorry. Ma'am. Well, the gun isn't there. Oh. I looked all through the bureau. I don't know what could have happened to it. Well, maybe your husband did take it with him. I picked all his things he couldn't have. I see. Well, we've always kept it in the top drawer. Where it'd be handy. You know where your husband's staying, Miss Begum? The Waterfield Hotel. I've never been in Chicago, but it's right downtown someplace. What's the name of the company he works for? Federated Plastics. Can't you tell me why you're asking all these questions? We'd just like to get in touch with him. Well, what about? Do you have a picture we can take with us? Of Clyde? Yes, ma'am. Well, I suppose so, but I'd like to know why. Is he in any trouble? Not if he's been in Chicago for the last few days. Of course that's where he's been. I talked to him just last night. We have the picture now? We'll see what I can find. I think there are a couple of snapshots in the desk. Would that be all right? Yes, ma'am. Be fine. When's your husband due back? The day after tomorrow. Is he flying? Mm-hmm. I don't know which flight, though. He said he'd send me a telegram. Here's a picture. Took it last summer on our vacation in Yellowstone. My brother Tim's in it, too. Will that make any difference? No, it's about to get all right. That's Clyde sitting on the rock. The one in the plaid coat. We took the picture with us and we stopped by Dr. Springer's clinic. His nurse told us he was operating at St. Thomas Hospital. She said she'd call as soon as he was free. We went back to the office and we sent a teletype to the Chicago PD requesting information about Clyde Beaton, supposedly registered at the Waterfield Hotel. Two hours later, at 5.43 p.m., Chicago reported that a man answering Beaton's description and using his name was staying at the Waterfield. Yep. We attended a convention dinner the previous evening. You sure? Can we check him out? So far, it looks like 100% wrong. Can't get any worse. We drove out to Dr. Springer's office and we showed him the snapshot of Clyde Beaton. But that's the young man I treated this morning. His wife says he's in Chicago. Oh, that's ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. He does fit your description. Even the coat? Coat? Well, yes, sir. Isn't that the one you told us he was wearing? You see there? The plan? But he isn't wearing... Oh, I see what you mean. What? The other chap in the picture. Yes, I believe that is the same coat. Wait, I don't follow you, Doctor. This is the young man who had the bullet in his chest, the one standing up wearing the leather jacket. But when he came to see me this morning, he had on this other man's coat. Dr. Springer was positive in his identification of Mrs. Beaton's brother, 728 p.m. We again interviewed Mrs. Beaton. Well, it's you again. Yes, Fred. What do you want now? Just a couple more questions. You got me so nervous before I just didn't know what to do. I had the telephone Clyde all the way to Chicago. Make sure he was all right. We're sorry about that, man. It cost us a fortune in phone bills. He said the police back there had been bothering him too. He couldn't imagine why. We don't want to cause you any trouble. That doesn't help any. Would you take another look at this picture, Mrs. Beaton? What for? I gave it to you. Yes, ma'am. You said that the other man was your brother. Is that right? What about him? What's his name, please? Tim. His last name? Larkin. Tim Larkin. Well, not as the coat that your husband's wearing in the picture belonged to him or to your brother. What's Clyde's coat, of course? He's wearing it. Is it in the house now? No, I don't know where it is. Cleaners, I guess. Wasn't here when I packed Clyde's bag last week. Your brother live in LA? Yes. What about him? Well, he lived with us until a few weeks ago, and then he and a friend of his took an apartment over on Bellwood Avenue. You know the number? 261 West. What's his friend's name? What's Bill Dresingham? He went to college together. That's why Tim came to California to go to school. Our folks live back in South Dakota. I see. He didn't write the first couple of years, but something happened last semester. He just sort of lost interest in quit school, both him and Bill. Got jobs and rented this apartment. I guess they're making good money. It's a very nice place. Yeah. It isn't Tim, is it? Yeah. Well, the reason you've been coming back and forth here all day. We don't know yet. If anything's happened, it'll be my fault. I'm supposed to be responsible for Tim while he's in California, but the folks don't know he isn't going to school anymore. They think he's still living with us. He's a baby of the family, just turning 21. But I'd wait until Mom and Dad realized he's a grown man. Then I'd tell him he's on his own. But I'd wait until then. Maybe you waited too long. 9.15 p.m. We went over to the Bellwood Address. Mrs. Beaton had given us. We found a card at one of the doors with the names Beaton and Dresingham on it. Yeah, who is it? Open up. What a big McGillip. I'd get your hands against the wall. Huh? Police officers, move. Turn around. Are you okay? All right, he's not heavy, Joe. What's your name? Tim Larkin. Unbutton your shirt. What for? Your shirt, unbutton it. Yes, sir. Where'd you get that bandage? It fell down. Come on, where'd you get it? It fell down, I said. You see a doctor? No. How do you know it isn't serious? It's getting better. You didn't see a doctor? No. We've got one we'd like you to see. What are you talking about? Dr. Springer. Do you ever hear them? I guess so. Well? We were just horsing around, billing me. Filling with a gun. Whose bill? The fellow I live with. Go ahead. Gun went off. Bullet caught me in the chest. That's all. Where's the gun? What difference does it make? Where is it? Closet. All right, you stay put. I'll check. Where you last night? What time? All of it. Here? All evening? Yes, sir. Found it, John. 38. Found this, too. Is your coat larkin'? No. Whose is it? Brother-in-law's. Who's the gun belong to? Him. Did he give it to you? Borrowed it. Borrowed the coat, too, did you? Yeah. Where were you last night? I said before, right here. Been over on Pico lately? No. You sure of that? I'm sure. This coat was? I don't know what you mean. All right, come on, son. You might as well tell us. Tell you what? We got a shell casing. Yeah? From a 38. Found it in the liquor store last night. So? The owner was killed. Well, lots of 38s around. It'd be real easy to check your gun against the casing, we found. I guess you'll find out anyway. All right, tell us. I was there. Evendale liquor store. Yeah, me and Bill. Lou was going to hold up the joint. That's all. Just hold him up. Go ahead. Bill had the gun. I didn't have nothing to do with that part. He was holding the gun in the old geyser, and I went around behind to get at the cash register. Something happened. I don't know what. Maybe Bill was squeezing too hard on the trigger. Maybe he got scared. I don't know. Yeah. The gun went off. The old guy fell down. Same time I knew I felt a little pain here in my chest. The bullet must have gone through him and hit me. Yeah. Bill got all panicky. Turned around and started running. I stuck right on the tails. Where's Bill though? A bar down the street. Went out for a beer. Was he carrying a gun? No, sir. This is the only one we got. All right. Let's go. Oh. You understand that I didn't have nothing to do with the shooting. You understand that, don't you? It was Bill that pulled the trigger. I didn't have nothing to do with it. I wasn't even involved. Well, we don't see it that way. Huh? You ended up with a slug. The story you just heard is true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On June 14th, Trial was held in Department 93 Superior Court of the State of California in and for the County of Los Angeles. In a moment the results of that trial. William Seaton Dressing Ham and Timothy Wilkes Larkin were tried and convicted of murder in the first degree. The jury returned a recommendation of leniency and the suspects are now serving life terms at the State Penitentiary, San Quentin, California. 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.