 The story you are 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 juvenile bureau. Dozens of petty theft cases are reported in one of the residential areas in your city. The victims, neighborhood businessmen, the suspects, teenage high school students. Your job? Stop them. More and more smokers coast to coast are saying this about king-size Fatima every day. They're different. Better. They are different. So pleasing. Yes, in Fatima, the difference is quality. You see, Fatima contains the finest domestic and Turkish tobaccos superbly blended. And Fatima is extra mild. With a much different, much better flavor and aroma. Compare Fatima with any other king-size cigarette. You'll find Fatima gives you all the advantages of extra length plus Fatima quality, which no other king-size cigarette has. Yes, in Fatima, the difference is quality. Next time, buy Fatima. Best of all, long cigarettes. Dragnet, the documented drama of an actual crime. For the next 30 minutes in cooperation with the Los Angeles Police Department, you will travel step-by-step on the side of the law through an actual case transcribed from official police files. From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Dragnet is the story of your police force in action. It was Tuesday, February 4th. It was cloudy in Los Angeles. We were working a night watch out of Juvenile Bureau assigned to University Division. My partner's Ben Romero. The boss is Inspector Bowling. My name's Friday. We were on the way out from the office and it was 713 p.m. when we got to the corner of South Waverly and Chester Avenue. The grocery store. I guess that's him back here to meet Connor. Yeah. Come on. Looks like he's getting ready to close up. Yeah, I guess we just about made it in time, huh? Excuse me, sir. Yes, sir. Help your gentlemen. We're looking for Henry Loomis. Yes, sir. That's my name. Police officers, Mr. Loomis. My name's Friday. I believe I talk to you on the phone. Oh, yeah, yeah. This is my partner, Sergeant Romero. Howdy, Mr. Loomis. What if you'd mind waiting a half a minute, officers? Just getting a little book work straightened out here. Today's receipts. Yeah, I'll go right in. I'll take a bit of a minute. Let's see here. Mm-hmm. 37. 45. 37. Huh? There we go. Ain't that lousy book work going to get a girl to come in and do it one of these days? Let's go up front here and talk. All right, sir, fine. Pull up a couple of stools there, might as well be comfortable. Yes, thank you. Thank you. Did you talk to any of the other merchants in the neighborhood yet? No, sir, not yet. We'd like to find out what you have to tell us first. Well, it's one of those high school kids I can tell you that. I'm sure of it. I don't want to sound like an old grouch, but this stealing's got to stop. You get quite a bit of business from the high school trade, Billy? At the noon hour, and then just after school, that's out. You usually have quite a bunch of them in here around this time. Mm-hmm. Do you especially cater to the high school crowd? I mean, do you serve lunch here, or anything like that? No, I don't. I usually get the kids to take their lunch. They come in and buy soda water or milk to drink with their sandwiches. They seem like such a nice class of kids. I don't think they were thieves. Well, how long is this stealing been going on, Mr. Holmes? I'd say about 10 days, two weeks. It's not very hot from the getaway with it, 15 or 20 kids crowd in here during noon hour. I'm usually busy up at the counter. It's no great trick for any one of them to make off with a couple of dollars with the merchandise. You say this happens just about every day? Every day, the kids are in here. Yeah. I tried playing detective myself for a while, trying to catch the gilly ones. Didn't do much good. Mm-hmm. As long as this stealing's been going on, Mr. Loomis, has it ever amounted to more than just a few dollars worth of food every day? No, that's a funny part of the size. When I check back on my inventories, it's always just about the same amount. A few cans of meat, vegetables, butter, a few loaves of bread. It's not so much the value of this stuff. I just don't like the idea of some kid making a fool out of me day after day. Has your cash register ever been tampered with? You know, I mean, any money stolen? No, so that's another thing I can't understand. If a kid's going to turn thief, you'd think he'd go after the cash. Whoever's doing it, they've never tried anything like that here. Well, how about some of the other merchants in the neighborhood, sir? You mentioned on the phone to a couple of others, having the same trouble that you are. Yeah, so there's George Bopey. He's the newspaper distributor and there's Collins. He's got the grocery place up the street. You can talk to them. I gave you their addresses on the phone, didn't I? Yes, you did. Just one more thing, Mr. Loomis. About this crowd of high school boys that hang around here, any of them in particular, you might suspect? As a matter of fact, there is. I certainly can't prove anything, but I just have a feeling about it. I don't like the boy. Just one boy, sir? Yes, sir, there may be more than one that's guilty, but this young fellow I'm pretty sure of. What's his name? I hear the kids call him Harry, red-haired boy, curly red hair, tall, a few freckles. Won't be hard to get his last name if we need it. Mm-hmm. Is there anything else you can think of that we ought to know? You go up the street and talk to the other two men, Sergeant George Bopey and Collins. They might have something more for you. I think I've told you about everything. All right, Mr. Loomis. I've got your home phone here. If we want to contact you later tonight, I'll call you there, is that all right? Perfectly all right. Here's our card, sir. You can call us at that number there anytime, all right? Thank you. What do you think's behind the whole thing, Sergeant? This cheap, stealing, nickel and dime stuff. I don't know, sir. We'll try and find out for you. It just doesn't make sense, stealing like that day after day. You'd think even the kid would know that you can't go on stealing forever. Yes, sir, a lot of them give it a try. From the very start, the whole pattern of the case and the thief's method of operation made little or no sense at all. The thefts had been going on for more than two weeks. They'd all taken place in a 12-square-block area. In each of the two dozen cases reported to us, not one of the thefts had been for more than $5, either in cash or merchandise. The thief's scene of operation included two grocery stores, a drug store, coin boxes attached to the newsstands in the neighborhood, and a 5 and 10-cent variety store. With one exception, all of the cases involved theft of merchandise only. The breaking open of coin boxes attached to newsstands was the single instance in which money was taken. The total sum was less than $3.50. 7.40 p.m., Ben and I left the grocery store and went up the street to the home of George Brophy. He was the neighborhood newspaper distributor who operated the coin box newsstands which had been broken into. Well, I think you can just about count on it, Sergeant. It's one of the kids in the neighborhood doing all this, either that or a couple of them are working together. What makes you so sure about it, Mr. Brophy? Well, for one thing, we got more in our share of kids out this way. A lot of them are from poor families, underprivileged, you might say. I guess they figured it's one way of picking up extra spending money. I got nothing against the kids myself. A few nickels, they get out of those boxes. I wouldn't prosecute them for that. Well, sir, that's not exactly it. The point is they're stealing. If they get away with this small-time stuff, they might figure they're ripe for something bigger. Probably be the best thing in the world for them if we can stop them now and set them on the right track, you see? Yeah. Put in with you there, Sergeant. I don't know how much I can help you, though. Do you have any idea at all who it might be that's breaking into the coin boxes? Well, like I say, I have nothing against any kid myself, but there is one of them around the neighborhood I've been a little suspicious about, a red-headed kid. What's he look like, you know? Red hair, wrackle face, kind of tall and gangly. Typical high school kid. Old Loomis down at the grocery store, he's been a lirry about the same kid, too. Well, why do you single out this red-haired boy, Mr. Brophy? Well, he... Oh, excuse me, I better grab a hand. Yes. Hello. Oh, yeah, Maggie, honey. Hmm. Four of them. One of them born. Is that right? All right. Four in this morning, a full four of them, huh? Yeah, yeah, just a minute, I'll call. Uh, great. Yeah, honey. It's for you, Maggie Harris. Oh, okay. Thanks. Excuse me, officer. A friend of my wife, Sir Cat, just had a fork kitten. Oh, I see. Oh, where were you? Oh, yeah, about the kitten. Yes, sir, why do you suspect it? Uh, well, there's a couple reasons, Sergeant. Late one night, when I was making my collections, I spotted the boy hanging around one of the newsstands. Didn't look like he had any business there at that time of night. He looked up and saw me coming. He turned and ducked down a side street. Well, do you have any idea where this boy lives, Mr. Brophy? No, can't say I do. He goes to high school. If he blocks up on South Waverly, I know that. It's the same boy that the grocery man had his eye on. You said there were a couple of reasons why you were suspicious of this boy, Mr. Brophy? Yeah. Well, this other thing doesn't mean too much. There wasn't anything really wrong with it. It just seemed a little queer, that's all. What was that? Well, I dropped in at the safety liquor store down the street last week. I wanted to pick up a little something. I saw the same kid in there. He was asking Benny the guy who runs the place if he'd sell him a fifth of bourbon. I heard the kid saying it was supposed to be for his father. His father was sick and couldn't come in. Of course, Benny turned him down. He wouldn't sell it to the kid. Well, that was the extent of it, huh? Yeah, that's all. Wasn't anything wrong with it? The kid didn't insist. I thought it was just a little out of line sending the kid out to liquor. Well, it's about size of it. How about some of the other merchants in the neighborhood who have been bothered with these petty thefts? Do you know if any of them are suspicious of this boy? No, no, no. Wouldn't know that. Henry Lo missed out the stores, but they don't want to know. Well, thanks very much, Mr. Brophy. If anything else comes up, you can get us at the number on this card here. Oh, okay, son. Fine. If I can help at all to clear this thing up, I'd be glad to do it. Well, we'll probably be checking back with you in thanks again, sir. Sure is funny, the whole thing. I get a big laugh out of it. Sir? Oh, I mean, the friend of my wife called up Maggie Harris. Cat had four kittens, like I told you. Uh-huh. If you get a big laugh out of that, I kept telling her she wouldn't believe me. What's that, sir? Well, she thought the cat was a male. The next morning, Ben and I continued checking with various merchants and residents in the neighborhood where the series of petty thefts were taking place. We located in question one more shopkeeper who was suspicious of the tall, red-haired boy known as Harry. That afternoon, we went to the high school on South Waverly Avenue to check on him. From his first name and his description, he was identified by the boy's vice principal as Harry Thomas Dunbar. He was 18 years old and a sophomore with an average scholastic record. We were told that Dunbar had left the grounds about half an hour before with the high school's basketball team. The group was headed for one of the local sports pavilions where the team had one of its more important games scheduled for that afternoon. Harry Dunbar was in charge of selling the printed programs for the game. Ben and I drove out to the sports pavilion and checked with one of the boy's collecting tickets at the door. He told us we'd find Harry Dunbar inside at the program stand. These high school kids sure take their basketball seriously, don't they? Yeah, big turnout sounds like. We're gonna be lucky if we can find that boy in this crowd. Yeah. You see him anywhere? No. Which side is the program stand supposed to be on? Well, there's a lot of them along and through here on both sides. I guess we better start checking them out. Yeah. Joe? Yeah. That stand back down on the left, you see? Right-headed kid? Yeah, let's check him, huh? Thank you. Programs, dime, complete programs for the game, ten cents. Excuse me, son. Program, mister? Your name, Harry Dunbar. Yeah, that's right. Well, police officers, Harry. We'd like to talk to you for a few minutes if it's all right. Oh, well, I can't talk to you now. I'm pretty busy selling these programs here. I suppose we wait a few minutes, son. So you only have a few left there to sell? No, I wouldn't do any good waiting. When I sell these, I've got something else to do. So I'm only going to take a few minutes of your time here. We won't keep you long. What is it, officer? What do you want to talk to me about? Just have a few questions for you, son. That's all. Can you step out in the lobby with us for just a minute? What's it all about? I'd like to know. We'll just as soon not talk about it out here. Oh, all right. We can go up this ramp here. All right. There's a hallway back here. Lungs underneath the stands won't be so noisy. Fine, we won't keep you long. Just a few routine questions. This ought to do OK. What is it you want to know about? Do you know of Mr. Loomis? Harry runs a grocery store near the high school. Yeah, old man Loomis. I go down to his store and eat lunch sometimes. Why? How about a Mr. Collins? He runs another store near the high school. Yeah, I know the place. Sometimes I go there, too. A bunch of the kids hang around there during lunchtime. We've had quite a few complaints from Collins and Loomis. Some of the other stores in the neighborhood, too. We're checking on some of them. Thought maybe you could help us out, Harry. No, I couldn't help you any. Mr. Collins and that old man Loomis, they don't like us. They want to get us in trouble. I think they're lying. Worrying about what? About us kids stealing things out of their stores. I bet they even told you I'm stealing things from them. Are you, Harry? Of course not. They can't say any of the stole things. They don't know. They can't prove anything. Do you know of a man that distributes newspapers in your neighborhood son of Mr. Broffing? Who? Mr. Broffing. Some of the coin boxes on his newsstands have been broken into. He thought maybe you could tell us something about that. Why me? I don't know any Mr. Broffing. Well, he knows you, Harry. He saw you hanging around one of the newsstands one night and there's something else. He saw you trying to buy a bottle of liquor in the neighborhood. Is that right? We've had three or four reports on you, son. What do you say? You want to tell us about it? They're crazy. I haven't done anything. Well, you got nothing to worry about, son. I won't tell you any. Look out, Ben. Next rabbit. I got him. All right. Hold it up, son. Let me go. Let me go. Take it easy, young fella. I haven't done anything. I haven't. Now, let me go. Please, I haven't done anything. I'm glad you tried to run away. I have to get home. I got to get home right away. All right, son. We'll take you there. No, you can't go with me. I have to go alone. I'm afraid we're going to have to hold on to you, Harry. Either we take you home or we take you downtown. Which is it? I tried to tell him I couldn't do everything. I tried, but it didn't work out. I can't do everything. What do you mean, son? Take me home. I'll let them tell you. You are in the Forgery Division of a Metropolitan Police Department. Handwriting analysis. All right. Now write the alphabet in lowercase, please. You are listening to a police officer taking a sample of a suspect's handwriting. This handwriting sample will be compared with a Ford signature. Side by side, two signatures may often look alike, but closer examination will prove a world of difference. You'll find the same is true when you compare Fatima with any other king-sized cigarette. Side by side, Fatimas are the same in length and circumference. 85 millimeters long, one and one-sixty-fourths inches around. And Fatima filters the smoke exactly the same long distance as any other king-sized cigarette. But in Fatima, the difference is quality. Fatima gives you extra mildness, a much different, much better flavor and aroma. Remember, Fatima has all the advantages of extra length plus Fatima quality, which no other king-sized cigarette has. So insist on the best next time by King-sized Fatima. Wednesday, February 5th, 4.15 p.m. We left the sports pavilion, got in the car, and started to drive our teenage suspect, Harry Dunbar, to his home. On the way, we questioned him about the series of petty thefts which had been going on in his neighborhood. We asked him about stealing merchandise from the grocery store run by Mr. Loomis. He admitted he was responsible. He said he'd been stealing things from the store for more than a month. We asked the boy about the petty thefts from the grocery store operated by Mr. Collins. Again, he told us he was responsible. He also admitted stealing from the neighborhood drugstore and the Variety Store, in addition to breaking into the coin boxes on the self-service newsstands. In each instance, he described his method of operation. He estimated that over a period of some four-and-a-half weeks, he'd stolen approximately $50 in merchandise and about $5 in cash. We asked him why. He refused to answer. You must have had a reason for doing all this, Harry. Why don't you tell us? We're going to find out sooner or later. Sorry, officer. It's the next turn you're left. OK. Some matters, son. You afraid of what your folks are going to say? No, that's not it. I never stole anything in my life till this time. When I started it in, I didn't think of it as stealing. It's something I had to do. That's all. I couldn't help it. That doesn't make much sense, Harry. What do you mean you couldn't help it? It's the truth. You've got to believe me. There wasn't anything else I could do. Well, what was it then? Was somebody forcing you to steal? No. Can't you just believe me? It's something I had to do. Sergeant, can't you let me off you? I'll walk home the rest of the way. I promise you I'll come and see you tomorrow, huh? You know we couldn't do that, son. You've already admitted stealing from a half a dozen stores in the neighborhood, breaking into those coin boxes. It's going to have to be straightened out one way or the other. But I can pay them back for what I took. I got a job. I'll pay back every one of them. I believe you, son. But there's still a lot of explaining that's going to have to be done. This is the 1,500 block, Harry. Want to point out your house for us? Son? Can't we fix it up some other way? We don't have to go to my house, do we? Son, you face it the better. How about it? Keep on going. It's the way down the end of the block. Well, now, which is it, son? There's no houses beyond this. Just that shack down there. That's my house. OK. Maybe I better go in first, see if everything's all right. It'll be all right. We'll come with you. Then I followed the boy up the stairs and into the house. From the outside, it looked run down and badly in need of painting. On the inside, it still looked in fair condition except for the housekeeping. The floor of the living room was littered with soil clothing, ashes, dirt, and dust. The few pieces of furniture didn't look much better. A card table set in one corner was crowded with dirty dishes and scraps of half-eaten food. Across the room was a baby in a crib. Couldn't have been more than a few months old. Apparently, the bedclothes in the crib hadn't been changed for days. Next to the crib huddled in an army cot. Underneath a few thin blankets was a dark-haired little girl, maybe two, two and a half years old. Her face was thin and pale. She was asleep. Through an open door we could see into the next room where a woman was lying on a couch. There was an empty glass and a newly opened bottle of whiskey on the nightstand. She'd let me come in first, officers would have a chance to clean up a little kid's mess up the house. Harry, is that you, Harry? That's my mother. Rest a little, I guess. This is the baby in the crib. His name's Jerry. Well, that's my little sister on the cot there. Her name's Annie. Get your mother out here, will you, son? We want to talk to her. Don't get mad at her, huh, will you? Ma's had a tough time lately. She tries to do her best. What's the matter with the kids here, son? Have they been sick? You know, the baby had a cold, but I got that medicine from the drugstore. He seems to be okay. I'm not so sure about Annie though. She had a bad cold. Doesn't seem to be getting over it. You want to take a look, man? Yeah. Get your mother off, son. Yeah. All right. Hey, Ma. Get up, will you? What is it? Who'd you bring home with you? A couple of policemen. They won't talk to you. What'd you bring them in for? Close the door there. I have to fix up a little. My mother'll be right out, officer. All right, son. Joe? Yeah. We better get to her phone right away. It looks pretty bad. What is it? The baby needs a doctor. A little girl here. I hope she does, too. What? I'm not sure she's alive. An ambulance was called immediately on Harry Dunbar's two-year-old sister, Annie, and his baby brother were both rushed to the general hospital. The mother, identified as Mrs. Florence Dunbar, was taken downtown and booked at the main jail on a drunk charge. 6.45 PM. We took the boy, Harry Dunbar, over to Ben's house. We put in a call to the general hospital to check on his little sister, Annie, and his infant brother. They told us both the children were suffering from malnutrition. The little girl, Annie, had double pneumonia. Miraculously, the baby seemed to have been spared. He was sick, but his condition wasn't considered serious. After Ben's wife fed him dinner, 18-year-old Harry Dunbar sat on and told us the story. Three months before, his father had deserted the family. His mother had made a pretence at supporting Harry and the two babies and then gave it up in favor of drinking. The whole burden of keeping the family alive was piled on the youngster's shoulders. Besides school, he had three odd jobs that he worked at to earn enough money to pay the rent, the gas and light bill, food and general necessities. It wasn't enough, so he had to take to stealing. His mother wouldn't work, but at the same time, she wouldn't let the boy apply for charity. He slept at Ben's house that night. And the next morning at juvenile bureau, he gave us the rest of the story. I guess it got too much for me. I don't know. I could sneak the food and medicine from the stores, all right, but... couldn't seem to get enough money to gather the rent bill and all that. Kids needed clothes, too. Well, why wouldn't your mother let you apply for help, son, some of the local charity? Well, why'd never go for that, officer? She'd get mad when I talked about it, but said she had too much pride to take charity. Mm-hmm. Did your mother know that you were stealing the food and medicine that you used to bring home? I don't know. Guess so. I wouldn't be so mad at her, but every time I got some money together to pay bills, she wanted me to buy whiskey for her. She begged so much, I couldn't say no. Are we having your mother brought over from the main jail here? We'd like to find out if we can't locate your father. We want to check outside, Ben, see if they brought him his done bar over yet. Yeah, okay. Thank you. How about the kids' officer, Annie and the baby? How'd they do it? Well, I checked the hospital, Harry. The doctor's gonna call as soon as he can. I should have known, Ben. Poor little kids. I could take care of myself, but they had to depend on her. She'd only stop drinking. You go right in, Mrs. Dunbar. Harry, you all right, son? What have they been doing to you? I'm all right, mom. Don't hang on me like that. I was worried about you, Harry, you and the kids. I'm sorry they got sick. I didn't know. It's just bad luck, Harry. We got to stick together, you and me. There's a chair here, mom. Sit down, huh? I joined you. Hospital call. They took the message outside. Here you are. Thank you. The hospital officer? About Annie and the baby? Yeah, I tried soon. About your little sister, Annie. What about her? What did the doctor say? Well, it's not good, Harry. The doctor called and... said Annie had pneumonia. Pneumonia. She'd be all right, though, huh? To take care of her? Well, it's not that way, son. I mean, the doctor said, uh, look, uh, you tell him what to do. What is it? What about Annie? We got a right to know. She's my little girl. Sergeant, you can tell me. You want to sit down, Harry? Yes, sir. Annie died 10 minutes ago. The doctors tried. They couldn't help. Annie's dead? That's right, son. And she's only a little kid. She's only two years old. Harry. Harry, son. Poor little Annie. I didn't have to be her, my own little girl. My own little Annie. Be good to me, son. I don't know how I can stand it. My own little girl, Annie. Go outside, mom. Go outside. No, Harry. I need you. I need you more than ever, son. Be good to me. We have to stick together now. We got to love one another. All right, Ms. Denver. No. I need Harry. He's all I got. Aren't you, son? That's so hard sometimes. Everything's against us. Lord only knows I've tried. We've got to try to be happy to stay together and love one another. Lord only knows... Will you shut up, mom? Harry, don't blame me, son. We've got to try to be happy. I blame you? Anybody blame you? You killed her. Poor little kid. You killed Annie. Harry, don't say it. Don't say it. I will say it, ma. You did it. The whole terrible thing. Annie's dead. You did it. Don't you know what it means? No, son. Don't hurt me. All right, Harina. Take it easy. You know her, too, don't you? She did it. Her earner whisking and her drinking and laying around, not even caring about the kids. I tried to tell you, ma. At least you could have done. Take care of the kids. See, they're all right. You had to drink. You wouldn't work. You had to lay around. Don't you understand? I couldn't do it all. I tried. I couldn't do it all. You had to go on drinking and lay there and watch Annie die. Please, son. Don't say that. We're going to love each other. I wouldn't hurt Annie. You know your mother never do that. You're not my mother. You're not anybody's mother. You don't know what you're saying. Harry, I'm your mother. Lord knows I've tried to be a good mother. You don't mean what you're saying. Goodbye, my hope. I never have to see you again. Harry, please, don't go. Then you better go get her. He wouldn't believe me, Sergeant. Lord knows I've tried. It's not easy. A husband deserting you the way Charlie did. Three kids on your hands. What can I do? Yes, ma'am. Harry ought to understand. I tried. Lord knows it's the best anybody can do. Just try and hope for the best. Yes, ma'am. I've only got one question. Yes. How hard did you try? The story you have just heard was true. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent. On April 23rd, trial was held in municipal court, city and county of Los Angeles, state of California. In a moment, the results of that trial. Now, here is our star, Jack Webb. Thank you. Friends, I have here a pack of Fatimas. Inside, of course, 20 king-sized Fatima cigarettes. Now, Fatimas are the same length and circumference as other king-sized cigarettes. And Fatima filters the smoke the same long distance. But only inside this golden yellow package do you get Fatima quality. That's right. Fatima gives you all the advantages of extra length plus Fatima quality, which no other king-sized cigarette has. Next time, buy Fatima. ... 18-year-old Harold Dunbar was filed on in juvenile court. After the hearing, the court directed that the two Dunbar children be placed in a foster home. Mrs. Dunbar was permanently deprived of the custody of her children. ... 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. Fatima cigarettes, best of all long cigarettes, has brought you Dragnet transcribed from Los Angeles. Stay tuned for Counter-Spy. Next, over M.B.C.