 The story you're about to hear is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned a robbery detail. Two armed bandits invade the home of an elderly couple in your city. The aging husband is tortured unmercifully before he reveals the hiding place of his valuables. The two thieves make good their escape. Your job? Get him. 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 Saturday, October 3rd. It was hot in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out a robbery detail. My partner's Ben Romero. The boss is Harry Diddy and Captain of Robbery. My name's Friday. It was 11.38 p.m. when I got to Georgia Street receiving hospital. Room 5. Treatment room. Joe? How's it going, Ben? We're not going to be able to talk to him any more tonight. Doctor said maybe late tomorrow morning. How's the old man making out? He's resting a lot better. Doctor gave him a sedative. Old fellow sure had a rough time. How about since I've been gone? Did he tell you anything else? No. Just kept repeating the same thing. He forced the way into his house, beat his wife, tortured him, took all their jewelry. That's about it. Well, I put in a call of the office. I got a broadcast out on the information that we have. There's not much to go on. We should be able to pick up a little something more tomorrow. Doctor said it's been a long time since he's seen anything like this, where they worked old man over. What'd they do to the fellow's hands anyway that doctor able to tell? He thinks they used a hat pin on him. Something like that. It's sharp and thin. At least a dozen wounds in both hands. He's pretty badly burned, too. Yeah. It's hard to imagine somebody that cold-blooded, 71-year-old man, souls of his feet and massive burns. Wonder his heart stood up through the beating I gave him. Has he got a weak heart? He's had a little trouble, yeah. Terrific shot going through something like this at his age. Well, maybe we better check back at their house, huh? See how the old fellow's wife is doing. Yeah, all right. How's it shape up for you? Well, there's not an awful lot to go on yet. It wasn't a shot in the dark. I think we can count on that. Whoever the thieves were, they had some kind of an inside tip. The old man and his wife, well, they don't put up much of an appearance. You wouldn't be apt to figure that they had three or four thousand jewelry put away at home, would you? Maybe his wife might have some ideas. Yours are lousy shingles. Yeah. You might have to understand that they just held them up but working them over the way they did. There was no sense to it at all. Trying to show off what a couple of rough bums they are. Maybe that's it. Well, then let's do them a favor. Let's show them what it costs. Ben and I got in the car and drove back to the Westlake Park area to the home of the robbery victim, Mr. O'Wendell McClung and his wife, Catherine McClung. It was a one-story wooden frame building, gray shingled, a typical modest four-room bungalow. The men from unit 31R who had answered the robbery call were still there standing by. Another pair of men from robbery detail, Powers and Gonzalez were checking the neighborhood for possible leads on the suspects. Inside the house, Ben and I found Mrs. McClung propped up in an easy chair in the living room. She was a small chubby woman, gray-haired, looked to be in her fifties. We assured her her husband's condition wasn't critical. Outside of a small bruise on her forehead and a case of nervous upset, she seemed to be all right. In recounting the story of the holdup, Mrs. McClung told us the two bandits rang the front doorbell and forced their way into the house at gunpoint shortly before eight o'clock that night. How about the color of their hair, ma'am? Their weight and the height? No, I hardly saw a thing. Just that one look at them when they first pushed their way in. How was that, baby? Blindfolded? Yes, they might just as well have. You see, when they started to hit window, my husband's window, knock him down. I went after them and one of them slapped me right across my face and knocked my glasses off. I reached out to find them, but before I did, I guess one of those gangsters stepped on them. $35 glasses broke both of the lenses, just ruined the frames. Look at that. Of course, I can't see a thing without them. That's why I say it might as well have been blindfolded. You didn't have a chance to notice what kind of clothes they had on and what they looked like at all. They weren't shabby, I know that. Pretty well-dressed, if memory serves. Both of them in dark suits. Only they wouldn't have broken my glasses. How about their voices, Ms. McClung? Anything unusual about the way they talked? Anything that they might have said? Ms. McClung? No, I was just thinking. One's name was Sam, I remember that. The other one had sort of an accent of some kind, maybe from the Midwest or maybe Texas, those funny people. Funny people? How do you mean, ma'am? Well, you know, something like a cowboy or a farmer, that funny kind of talk. I see. I guess I really should be inside fixing you men a cup of tea, maybe if you just help me up here. That's all right, ma'am. You just sit there. When my sister Dolly gets here, it shouldn't be too long. I'll have her fix something. There's no need to bother, ma'am. We'd like to have you tell us this if you can. Did your husband do anything at all to provoke the two, ma'am? Call out for help or try to get to a phone or anything like that. It was the jewelry we had. Wendell and I, just those few pieces. The two men seemed to know all about it, just as if they had a list of the things. That's all right. Yes. When they first came in, they took my engagement ring and old brooch that belonged to my mother I was wearing. Then they got Wendell in that chair over there and tried to make him tell where our other things were. Well, now is it pretty common knowledge around the neighborhood here that you and your husband own expensive jewelry, ma'am? Oh, I don't think so. What the men seemed most interested in was Wendell's ring, his diamond-signet ring. It was a beautiful thing for a carrot. Yes, ma'am. We've got a description on that. That was when they tried to force your husband to tell him where it was hidden. Is that right? I never thought anybody would be that cruel officer. Downright cruel. They burned his hands and his feet. Kept hitting him in the face with their fists. It was just terrible. Poor Wendell. I had to tell them. They went and found the things, and then they came back in here and ripped out the phone, warned us not to move. And then they left. I just broke down and cried, officer, to see poor Wendell there the way they abused him. Yes, ma'am. We understand. You're sure he's going to be all right? What did the doctor say? I said there's no danger, ma'am. Mr. McClung's resting comfortably now. Well, that must be my sister. You want to stay right here with Mrs. McClung? Ben, I'll get that. Hi, Jess. You want powers doing any good? I've been checking through the neighborhood three, four blocks around. Not an awful lot. A lot of people know the McClung's. Few of them know about their having jewelry. Not even so anything unusual going on tonight. The thieves used the car. We know that. Didn't anybody at all spot it? Not sure, but there's one possibility. Some of the neighbors said a young kid was peddling magazines down this block tonight just about the same time as a robbery. He might have spotted something. Well, that's fine. Where is the boy? Where does he live? That's who we asked the neighbors. Nobody knows. A supplementary broadcast and an APB was gotten out containing what description we had on the two holdup men, plus descriptions of each article of jewelry taken from Mr. and Mrs. McClung. The following morning, along with Jess Gonzalez and Johnny Powers, we continued canvassing the immediate neighborhood of the holdup. The only thing we got was a fair description of the boy who had been selling magazines the night before in the vicinity of the McClung house and also the names of the magazines he was peddling. Monday morning, 9 a.m., we got in touch with a local distributor for the publications, got a list of five boys who sold for them in that general area and started checking them out. Third on the list was a Bill Newsom, a sophomore student at a nearby parochial high school. He lived a half a dozen blocks from the McClung's. We checked at his house, but his mother told us he wasn't at home. I'm sure Billy won't be long. Thank you, ma'am. Right in here, opposite. Just go ahead. Thank you. Sit down, won't you? Thank you very much. You must be him now. Billy, in here. Yeah, ma'am. Come in here, Bill. Two police officers to see you. Okay. Bill, this is Sergeant Friday and Sergeant Romero, my son Bill. How are you, ma'am? Would you excuse me? I'm going to have to start fixing dinner. You go right ahead and have your talk with Bill. I'll be out in the kitchen. All right, ma'am. Thank you very much. You speak right up now, Bill. Try and help the officers all you can. How can I help you? What's it all about? We understand you have a magazine out in the neighborhood. Bill, your mother tells us you were out selling this last Saturday night. Yes, sir. That's right. Thursdays and Saturdays. They're my regular nights. I don't really sell, though. How do you mean, son? Well, you see, I line up all my customers ahead of time. I got a regular list of people they buy from me every week. I don't do any door-to-door selling. That way, it's not much good. I see. Do you have a regular customer on your list but the name of McClung, Bill? That's M-C-C-L-O-N-G? Yeah, Mr. McClung. Once a month, he takes a gardening magazine. Comes out the last weekend every month. Were you over near the McClung's place Saturday night? You remember? Yeah, I was. I went right by it. I've got customers all along that block there. Say, this wouldn't be about that robbery. That's right, Bill. You heard about it? After church Sunday, a couple of kids would go to the same school I do. They'd live right around the McClung's. They heard about it. What time was it when you went by that Saturday night? You remember? Oh, about a couple of minutes after nine, I guess. Maybe a quarter after. When I heard about the robbery on Sunday, I thought maybe I ought to tell somebody about it. I wasn't sure about it, though. You know, I didn't want to be a pest. What do you mean, son? You weren't sure about what? This dark blue sedan I saw parked on the street there, just a couple of houses down from the McClung's place. The reason I even noticed it was because it was a new car, almost a brand new car. But it looked like the license plates on it were kind of old. What else? Well, I delivered some magazines to Mrs. Brubaker, and I got my money for them. And then coming down the stairs, I saw these two men. I'm not sure they came out of Mr. McClung's house. It was dark, you know, but I thought that's where they came from. Anyway, they went down the street, got in the car, and took off. It seemed to be in a hurry. Well, what did the two men look like, Bill? Do you have any idea? No, I didn't see them too well. It wasn't too close to them. I was about from, you know, here to across the street from them. How about their clothes? You noticed them at all? Yeah, they had suits on, dark suits. I know that. How would you describe their builds, son? Medium, tall, fat, skinny? What would you say? Well, I think I'd say medium. Yeah, both are medium. Now about that car, Bill. You said it was a dark blue sedan, but today a new model and the license plates look kind of old, is that right? Yeah, that's right. That's how I first noticed it parked down by the restaurant. How did that? About 715, when I started my route down on South Benson, I saw the same car parked outside the restaurant down there. Forget the name of the place now. It just opened about a month ago. I'm sure it was the same car. Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm pretty sure. That's why I noticed it again when I saw it up by McClung's place. I thought it looked kind of terrible. Brand new car like that with old license plates. By any chance, son, do you remember the license number on those plates? No, sir, I didn't notice it at all. I'll tell you what, though. Yeah? If I see that car again, I'll be sure and get the number for you. Before we left the home of 16-year-old Bill Newsom, we got a complete description of the car which he'd seen parked near the McClung's home on the night of the robbery. He told us it was a 1950 Hudson, four-door sedan, dark blue, white sidewall tires. We relayed the information downtown to robbery detail. After we left the boy's house, we drove to the vicinity of the restaurant on South Benson where the Newsom boy had first spotted the Hudson sedan. After making the rounds of several bars and coffee counters in the area, we started checking at the restaurant. It was newly opened, just as the boy had described it, full of glass, brick, and fancy modern stonework. The main bar was situated just off the lobby, set apart from the main dining room. We interviewed the head bartender, and he thought he remembered serving two customers, answering the general description of the holdup men on the previous Saturday night. Not a bad-looking pair. They're in a little early, around 7.15, 7.30. They seem to be all right. Do you remember what they looked like at all? No, I didn't notice them that much, obviously. Can you give us some general idea? Or on the young side, I guess, not more than 28, 30. One of them talked like a Midwestiner, I think. You know, maybe Arkansas, Texas, someplace like that. Could you give us any idea what they were wearing? Well, we don't have the suits on, dark suits. One had on a gray hat, that's about all I remember. The reason I can place them at all is because Saturday was a pretty slow night at the bar. It's a new place here, you know. It takes a little time to cultivate a tray. Well, did these two men stop for dinner here? Do you remember that? No, they sat right here at the bar, had a couple of beers, and then they left, no dinner. Did you wait on them? Yes, sir, I did. I served them both a bottle of beer, imported Dutch beer. You served quite a bit of that imported beer, do you? No, I'm not here. No, it's mostly cocktail tray. These two colors, the only ones I remember asking for. Oh, do you remember if the two men handled the beer bottles at all? Well, I mean, did you pour it again? I filled up the glasses and set the bottle down. I guess they did handle them. They emptied the bottles. I see. But they'd almost have to, wouldn't they? Would you still have those two bottles on him? No, let's see. Yeah, I guess they would. They don't pick up the empty, still something around the middle of the week. We'd like to take a look at them if you don't mind. Oh, sure thing. You guys just want to follow me down the bar here. It's in the store, I'm just in back. All right, let's go. It's right back here, officer. Fine. Yeah, yeah, they're right over here. Oh, there you go. Holland label. Only one's in the whole case. The same two I serve those fellas. Yeah, I see. What do you think? Fingerprints? Maybe. And as soon as you get the fingerprints, you can pick them up, can't you? Yeah, when we find the men they belong to. Monday, 6 p.m. We call latent fingerprints, and they came out to check the evidence. First, they obtained a set of the bartender's fingerprints to serve as a basis for comparison. Then they dusted each of the empty beer bottles carefully. After the various sets of prints were lifted off the bottles, the men went back to the office to run the sets through, classify their findings, and then turn them over to our and I for further checking. While they worked on it, Ben and I ducked out and had a sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner. 7.25 p.m. We got back to the city hall. I sure am getting tired of the kind of food that guy serves, Joe. It seems to get worse every time I go in there. It wasn't very good, was it? I'm willing to bet I know his formula for the soup. Two gallons of hot water and one bouillon cube. Well, I've gone and done it before. I may still do it again. What's that? Bring my dinner from home in a paper sack. Pack a thermos full of hot coffee. It'd be a better deal than across the street. I don't know about that. Do you remember the last time you had your wife fix you up a thermos full of coffee? Yeah, I almost forgot. Wasn't any better than this stuff across the street. Hi. Where you two been? Hi, Jess. Getting something to eat? A latent prince called just a minute ago. Told him I'd give you the message. What's that? The prince, they lifted off those beer bottles, checked them through the record bureau. Found two sets. They made both of them. October 5th, Saturday, 7.40 p.m. The two sets of fingerprints which had been lifted from the empty beer bottles were checked through R&I and identified as those belonging to two known criminals. The first was Henry Vincent Moss, WMA, 29 years old. He'd served two terms in the Cotty Jail for burglary and Grand Theft Auto and one term in San Quentin for robbery. The second was Ernest Robert Windsor, WMA, 28 years old. His home was listed as Little Rock, Arkansas where he'd twice been convicted on charges of first-degree burglary and served time at the Arkansas State Penitentiary. We pulled the packages on both of the men, checked the last known addresses, but failed to locate either of them. To double-check their identification, we showed mug shots of Windsor and Moss to the robbery and torture victims, Mr. and Mrs. McClung. They gave positive identification of both men. So did the bartender at the restaurant where they'd stopped for the beer. We got out a broadcast and an all-points bulletin on them immediately. We began the routine legwork, checking with all the friends, relatives, and associates who were listed on the mama's sheet in each suspect's package. As usual, it was a long monotonous haul. One of the persons listed as fairly close to Ernest Windsor was a man of his, a Mrs. Marie Ralph, whom we located at her home in the Echo Park District. No, I hadn't seen Ernest in almost a year, Sergeant. What is it you want him for? I'd like to talk to you about it a few minutes, Mrs. Ralph. You don't mind? I don't know how I can help you. You can come in for a minute if you want. I've got to go out and do some errands pretty soon, though. It's all right, ma'am. Thank you. Right in here. Sit down if you want. Thank you very much. I've got finished taking care of my little children here, giving them nice clean cages. Oh, yes. Oscar and Ethel, that's these two here. They're both genuine rollers. Their grand folks came from Germany. Beautiful singers. Wonderful company. Yes, ma'am. My others are pretty, too. They're only choppers, though. Ma'am. Choppers. They're different than rollers. They sing much louder. Maybe not as nicely, but I don't like to play favorites. I like all of them. You have birds, Sergeant? No, ma'am. You should. I think everybody should have a canary in the house. Cheerful, you know. Wonderful company. Don't know what I'd do without mine. How about your nephew, Ernest, Mrs. Ralph? Have you any idea at all how we could contact him? As I say, it's been almost a year since I last heard from him. What would this be about, Sergeant? Just a routine investigation, ma'am. We understand that you're quite close with your nephew that he lived with you for a time. Yes, that's right. He did. When you come right down to it, Ernie's a good boy. He kept bad company. That's what I always said. Got him in trouble two or three times. I suppose you know that. You live alone here in the house, do you, Mrs. Ralph? Yes, that's right, Sergeant. Say, I'm a widow. Husband's gone a good many years now. You don't take in boarders or anyone like that? Oh, no. Just me and the pets here. They're company enough. I wonder if you'd explain that laundry piled up in the bed there in the next room, ma'am. Oh, what's that? The men's shirts, stockings, the underwear. They're right there in the bed there. Well, I usually try to keep things in better order than that. Just some laundry, I do, Sergeant. Little odd jobs for some of the bachelor men in the neighborhood. I do it as a favor for them. You're sure about that, Mrs. Ralph? Ma'am? What do you want Ernest for? Why do you have to chase after him all the time? Persecute him. We're not persecuting him. Ever since he's come here from Arkansas, it's been nothing but police chasing after him. Can't you give her any a chance? All he wants is a chance. He told me so himself. We've checked through his record, Mrs. Ralph. He's had all the chances in the world and nobody's persecuting. Why are you chasing him again? Hunting him down. Why don't you leave him alone for a spell? Give him a chance to get a job, do something. Why are you chasing him? This is a robbery charge, Mrs. Ralph. He's been positively identified. He and Henry Moss forced their way into an old couple's home a few weeks back. They tortured the old man, then they beat him till he was unconscious. That's what we want Ernest for. How'd you know it was Ernie? You could have made a mistake. No mistake, ma'am. The victim's identified his picture and it wasn't a doubt in their mind. And where is he? You sure that's the truth? You're sure it's Ernie again? Yes, ma'am. Again. You can have all the proof you need. The last time he told me he swore on the memory of his own mother. He swore he wouldn't do anything wrong again. I guess I just don't know Ernest. Where is he, ma'am? You want to tell us? The last time, Sergeant, I'm sorry. Ernie, that is last time. Yes, ma'am. He's sleeping. The room over the garage. You'll find him there. Ernest Windsor was apprehended and placed under arrest. His room was searched as well as the entire home of his aunt, Mrs. Marie Ralph. We failed to find a trace of any of the jewelry stolen from Mr. and Mrs. McClung. After we made arrangements for a stakeout on the house, Windsor was taken downtown to the interrogation room where Jess Gonzalez, Ben and I questioned him for five hours. He refused to tell us anything. At a special show-up, he was positively identified as one of the hold-up men by the two victims. Windsor was booked at the main jail on suspicion of 211 PC. The investigation went on. Every possible lead on the other suspect, Henry Moss, was checked out. We got nowhere. It was obvious that either Moss was in possession of all the jewelry stolen from the McClung's or had been hidden away someplace known only to Windsor and Moss. From time to time, we had Windsor taken from his jail cell for questioning. It wasn't hard to tell. He was bothered with the possibility that perhaps Moss had run off with the entire loot and was enjoying himself while Windsor spent his time in jail. We worked hard on that particular angle while we questioned him, but Windsor still refused to break to give us any kind of a lead on Moss. A month passed, Wednesday, November 8th. Sure working out into a dull routine, a full month. We got exactly what we started with. Yeah. If we can only get Windsor to break it, it sure do a lot to her to wrap this thing up, wouldn't it? I don't know what he figures he's going to gain, but keep him quiet. Yeah. Gonzalez and Johnny Powers said they were checking out a tip from some informant this morning. Supposed to know where Henry Moss is. I wonder if they found any luck. They ought to be back by now. Yeah. Go ahead. Hey, Jess. Oh, hi. How about it? Did you do any good this morning? Oh, not a bit. Informant didn't even show up. Johnny's going to meet him this afternoon. It doesn't look to be very much. How about you, fellas? Same, Jess. We're going as slow as you are. We got it. Robert, it's Friday. We got George. Uh-huh. Third and main? You sure, huh? Right. Yeah. Right away. Well, maybe we got a break. What is it? Henry Moss. He tried to hawk a ring at a pawn shop. Third and main about 20 minutes ago. He make it? Well, the pawnbroker stalled him. He didn't know for sure that the guy was hot. Well, how's it stand? Moss said he'd come back to close the deal. When? Half an hour. 11.55 a.m., a special detail of men including Gonzales and Powers. Ben and myself were sent to cover the pawn shop near Third and Main. Gonzales and Powers staked out in stores adjoining the place. Ben and I were stationed inside the pawn shop. Another team of men covered the rear exit. We waited. The suspect, Henry Moss, failed to show at the appointed time. We kept waiting. 1 p.m. 1.30. No sign of him. At 1.45 p.m., a young looking, dark-haired man in a neat gray suit entered the shop and approached the manager at the rear counter. There wasn't any mistaking him, Henry Moss. He surrendered himself without even protesting. We took him to the city hall to the interrogation room where we started to question him. Meantime, Gonzales and Powers located the apartment where the suspect had been staying. His rooms and personal belongings were searched and every piece of the missing jewelry recovered. Surprisingly enough, in contrast to his partner, Ernie Windsor, Moss was cooperative, even obliging. We had a stenographer take his full statement. Then we got ready to move him over to the main jail for booking. Just a couple of questions before we leave, Moss. Sure, Sergeant. Go ahead. We've had you in here before. How come all in cooperation this time? Why not? I had it figured before time. If you got me, you'd have everything you need on me. It wouldn't do much good putting in a beef, would it? Whose idea was it to start with, Moss, the hold-up deal? Yours or was it Windsor's? Both of us, I guess. I didn't want to get rough with the old man. I mean the way Ernie did. That part I didn't like. All I wanted was a loot. Ernie just lost his head. Too bad. All right. You ready to go? Anytime, Sergeant. Hey, I wonder if I could ask a favor. What's that? Well, it's going to get a little tough in there in that jail. Wonder if we couldn't stop for a good steak and some french fries first, huh? Maybe some good restaurant around here? No, it won't work, Moss. You know I wouldn't try anything. You put your order in a long time ago, Mr. What do you mean? When you worked over that old couple. Yeah. That's when you ordered jail food. The story you have just heard was true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On March 2nd, trial was held in Superior Court, Department 88, City and County of Los Angeles, State of California. In a moment the results of that trial. Ernest Windsor and Henry Moss were tried and convicted on one count of first degree robbery and one count of assault with intent to do great bodily harm. Both men are now serving their terms in the state penitentiary. First degree robbery is punishable by imprisonment for no less than one, nor more, than 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.