 Ladies and gentlemen, the story you're about to hear is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Your detective sergeant, you're assigned a juvenile detail. You get a call from Georgia Street receiving hospital. A two-year-old child has been brought in. Her condition is critical. There's evidence of foul play. Your job, check it out. 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 Sunday, August 14th. It was warm in Los Angeles. We were working the night watch out of juvenile detail. My partner's Frank Smith. The boss is Captain Powers. My name's Friday. I was on my way back from detention cells, and it was 728 p.m. when I got to the second floor of Georgia Street Juvenile. Squad room. Hi, how'd it go? Nothing. Those kids won't cop to a thing. What about the weapons? I only admit they had them, and that's all. Nothing about what they were going to do with them? No. I don't know, Joe. Today, kids got a lot more than we ever had. TV, cars, a lot of things? Yeah. Still seems like they aren't happy unless they're figuring how to beat somebody's brains out. No, it doesn't go for all of them. It's not enough to give us a headache. Now, take those kids upstairs. If they spent the same time doing something constructive that they do making the zip guns and saps, they'd have something worth file, something worth remembering. Now, maybe it'll work out the same way. What do you mean? They won't forget this. Juvenile Friday. Yeah, Doc. Why don't you come in? Anybody with it? Give me that again, would you? Yeah, I got it. Okay. We'll check it. That's right. We'll get back to you later. Thanks, Doc. Bye. It was Dr. Sebastian. Yeah? This brought a little girl into emergency. Had convulsions. How's she doing? Dead on arrival. Frank and I notified Homicide Division, then we left the office and drove out to the address I'd gotten on the phone. 1784 Malibar Street was a small wooden house set on the back of the lot. A dead oak tree in the front yard was overgrown with ivy. Several broken and rusted children's toys were half hidden in the weeds near the front porch. We rang the front doorbell. Somebody ought to be home. The lights are on. Yeah. Let's try it again. Yeah, somebody's coming. Yes? Miss Manson. That's right. What do you want? Police officers. We'd like to talk to you. We have to go through it all again. Don't you think I feel bad enough? We're sorry to bother you, ma'am, but there's some questions we have to ask you. Come on in. You might as well sit down. Thank you. Thank you. This is Frank Smith and my name's Friday. How do you do, Miss Manson? Hello. You're the child's aunt, is that right? Yeah. Her mother's my sister. Where is her mother? I don't know. Been trying to get in touch with her. Left messages all over town, but I guess she ain't got any of them. The child stayed with you, does she? Yeah. Been here since she was six months old. Feel like she was my own. I got three kids myself. All boys. Always wanted a girl. When Joan said I could have Melissa, made me feel real good. Like a daughter of my own, real good. Knew it didn't make any difference to Joan. None at all. Wasn't anything that mattered much to her. I always thought Melissa was something that shouldn't have happened. In the way that's what she said. Yes, ma'am. In the way. What happened this evening? What do you mean? Well, you're the one who called the hospital, aren't you? Yeah. As soon as I knew there was something wrong, I called him. What happened? Well, this is Sunday. Yeah. Every Sunday morning, Joan comes by and picks up Melissa, takes her for the day. Just like always, she was here this morning. Yes, ma'am. Gonna be a big day. She told the baby they were going up to the park to the zoo, see the animal. Mm-hmm. Well, we all sat around mate. My kids and baby and Joan, the kids went to get dressed. Yeah. After she was dressed, they left. Joan and Melissa, going to the zoo and the rides. Real big day, real big. Mm-hmm. About six they came back. That's this evening? Yeah, six o'clock. The baby, the baby didn't look real good. Kind of hot and flushed. Yeah. I asked Joan if she'd given her a lot of junk. She said, no, nothing that had hurt her. That's what she said. Mm-hmm. Just came in the house and then she left. Said she had an appointment that she couldn't be late. Just dumped the baby inside the house and walked out. I see. I gave her a bath. Thought it might make her feel better. She was running a little fever. Warm baths supposed to bring down the temperature. Yes, ma'am. Didn't. Didn't do any good at all. I asked her if she was hungry and she said she was. So I gave her some dinner. Had no more than taking one bite and she had the first fit. Mm-hmm. Sitting right there at the table and she had it. I didn't know what to do. Never had nothing happen like that before. I didn't know what to give her. Did you call a doctor? Yeah. We don't have a telephone so I went down the corner. There's a booth at the gas station. Yeah. Didn't want to leave the baby alone but there wasn't any other way. Nothing else I could do. All right. Go ahead, please. The doctor wasn't at home. I left work for him to come right over and then I came back. Then no sooner walked into the house and she had another fit. Scared me to death. Poor little things sitting there. I could see she was in pain. Terrible pain and there wasn't anything I could do for her. Mm-hmm. I just couldn't wait anymore. I went back and called the emergency hospital to ask them to send an ambulance. Told them it was important to send somebody right away. A couple of minutes after that the men got here and took her away. Poor little things. Yes, ma'am. She looked at me like asking me to stop the pain. Begging me almost tore my heart right out of my chest to see her. So little. Almost killed me. Yes, ma'am. She was dead when they got her there. Didn't even live long enough for her to try and save her. Not even that long. Yes, ma'am. We know. Just a baby. Two years old and she's dead. Just a tiny little baby. She could die and it wouldn't make any difference. But not her. She was beautiful. Just beautiful. Like my daughter. Like my own. You sure there isn't something we can get for you, Ms. Manson? No. Doesn't mean anything will help. No. Nothing at all. Ma'am, has there been any history of this type of attack in your family? You mean fit? Epilepsy. Anything of that nature? No. Never been anything like that. Well, now did the child tell you that she felt sick? Mm-mm. We didn't have no idea that was something wrong until it was too late. Did she complain of stomach cramps, remember? No, she didn't. What'd you have for dinner? Ground meat, potatoes, green beans. Couldn't have been that. Made her sick. We all ate the same thing. The kids and me, none of us had any trouble. Is your sister separated from her husband? Yeah, they hadn't been together for over a year. Been that long anyway, I suppose. He's supposed to contribute support, but he does not a dime. I see. Did she provide support for the little girl? She was the baby's mother, but that's as far as it went. Came to count from a listen that landed in my lap. Remember when she had roseola? Joe didn't even come over and see her. Just didn't care. Mailed a little doll for the baby. I guess that was supposed to make up for her mother not being there. Can you tell us where we can contact your sister? Sure. Place over on Hewitt Street, got an apartment there. You have the address? Yeah. Won't do much good to go over there, though. Why is that? She probably ain't home. Chances are she's out someplace running around having a good time. I see. Don't even know that baby's dead. Hasn't got the slightest idea. Hope you won't mind waiting for her to show up. You're going to have to. Probably wait a long time. Yes, ma'am. She don't care about the baby. Never did. Told me a couple of times just to rock around her neck. Talked about how hard it was for her to get a husband with a kid. All the time, how the baby was making it hard for her. Mm-hmm. Oh, she ever thought about herself. Didn't want anything to interfere with that. Just herself. She don't care about the baby. She don't care at all. Probably won't even talk to you. I think she will. Why should she? Yes, there is. What? We're trying to find out why the child died. Oh, she just got sick, that's all. There's nothing more to it. Melissa just got sick. You seem pretty sure about it. Of course I am. Couldn't be anything else. You think there was anything else? You think there was something wrong? We don't know yet. Well, then talk to Joan. Ask her anything wrong with Melissa that happened today. She ought to be able to tell you. Talk to her. Yes, ma'am. That's what we'll do. Hope it does you some good. She's probably got an idea. I wouldn't want her to know I told you this. What do you mean? If there's something wrong with the way Melissa died, if there is... Yes, ma'am. It wouldn't surprise me if Joan killed her. Frank and I left the house and drove over to the apartment on Hewitt Street. The name on the mailbox read Joan Guiman. We rang the bell, but there was no answer. We talked to the landlady and Mrs. Enid Binden. She told us that the Guiman woman had left the place about 715 in the company of a man and she hadn't returned. We asked her what she could tell us about Mrs. Guiman. Kind of hard to say right off. She's funny. You know how I mean? No, ma'am. Well, there's a lot of people who don't like her. Lots of them. I think she's kind of wild the way she runs around, partying it up. You'll hear a lot of talk about her. Try to kind of make up your own mind about it. Any idea where we can find her? No, could be in half a dozen places. She starts on a run. She's labeled not to slow down for a couple of days. It's not many times. I don't think Joan goes out with him much. Mm-hmm. Something wrong? Ma'am. Something happened to Joan? No, ma'am. Must be some reason you're nosing around. Anything you want to tell me? It might be a little better if we talk to Mrs. Guiman. That's the way you want it. I ain't going to pry into something. Don't concern me. Yes, ma'am. Have you ever met Mrs. Guiman's little girl? You mean Melissa? Yes, ma'am. Sure. Two of them been here several times. Sunday, you know, Joan has a little girl. Well, they seem to get along. You said it yourself. Melissa's her daughter. Yeah. What do you heard? Hm? Somebody's been talking about how Joan treats the kid? Well, maybe you better tell her. I don't want to get her in no trouble. You understand that? Yeah. Well, I'd be down here watching the television, maybe doing some ironing. Night here, Joan yell at the baby. Loud. She used words the kid shouldn't hear, not that young. Yes, ma'am. Of course, not that those kind of words are ever good for a youngster, but sure not for one only two years old. Guess she hit the kid a couple of times. Things calmed down. Now, do you know if Mrs. Guiman ever hit her daughter? Well, sure. I saw it with my own eyes. We had words about it. Well, Joan told me to mind my own business. Had to keep my nose where it belonged. Told me how Melissa was her kid, and if she thought a slap would do some good, she was going to give it. She did. Only a couple of times they weren't slaps. Like this? With a closed fist. Hit her right along here, right above the ear. A couple of times in the face. I saw the kid with a black eye myself. Sure. Does Mr. Guiman see his wife? Not that I know. She said a couple of times that he doesn't. I don't think she even knows where he is. Kind of sad, you know. What happened? That's how all the trouble started. Mr. Guiman. Both of them used to live here when they got married. First off, it seemed pretty happy. Didn't have no idea there was anything wrong. Then when the baby was born, the trouble started. Wasn't long before the whole building knew about it. Of course, there was a couple of people who had no idea before. What's that? About her. Ma'am? Running around down to the bars, drinking, talking with other men. I'm not a prude. Never been anybody who could say that about me. Nobody. But I just don't believe in married women doing it, not them. That's what caused the trouble, Anna. You just put it down to that. Oh, my, they had some big arguments. Big ones. Hear them all over the building, all over the block, I guess, if he was listening. Well, it wasn't long after that he walked out on her. That moved out, even took his photograph records, everything. Don't think she's seen him since. Well, are they divorced, you know? I don't know about that. A couple of times she's talked about getting one. I don't think she's ever gone through with it. I see. No, she's planning on it. How's that? She wants to get married again. Told me that a hundred times how she wants to find a man and settle down. Just about all she talks about. I guess the big problem is Melissa. What do you mean? Well, I know she's had the chance. I know that for sure. A couple of them have even talked to me about it. All right, Joan. Build a home for her. All comes back the same thing. What's that? The kid. None of the men want a ready-made family. They're all willing to have one of their own, but it ain't easy for a woman with a two-year-old child. Not easy at all. I know she thought a couple of times about leaving the kid with his sister. Some kind of problem there, too. Seems they were always fighting about it. You know what the arguments were about? Sure. Joan's sister didn't think she was doing enough to support the kid. You know, I heard him upstairs. Yelling and screaming at each other. Almost as bad as Joan and her husband. The sister's saying that either she had to hand over more money or else take Melissa out of the house. Joan's saying that she didn't care what happened to the kid. Yelling all over the place. Terrible way to carry it on. Be honest about it. I don't think either one of them really wanted the little girl. Neither one of them. Is that right? Both injustice, happy if she'd never been born. Poor little kid. Wonder if they didn't try to put her in another home. You know, they're giving her a chance to grow up being loved. That's right. At least they could have done, given a little kid a chance. Oh, I don't know. Maybe someday Joan will wake up, realize what she's doing. We returned to the office and checked with the crime lab. They'd finished going over the child's clothing and the happening out of order. We put in a call to the coroner's Nick Wallage. He told us that the autopsy would be held at 10 a.m. the following morning. We should have the results by 11. He went on to say that in his examination of Melissa Guiman, however, he was unable to tell us if the blows might have been strong enough to cause her death. 12.16 a.m., we ran the names Joan Guiman and her sister through R and I. There was no record on the sister, but we found that the Guiman woman had been arrested several times in the last year on charges of 4127A drunk. The rest of the night was spent in checking out the places she was known to have frequented. An attempt was made to find her husband without result. The next day, Frank and I met in the squad room early to put through a call to the coroner's office. Yeah. What about the bruises? I see. How long is that going to take? Right. We'll keep in touch with you. Okay. Bye. I'm about it. They finished. What's the cause of death? They're still not sure. What do you mean? They think she might have been poisoned. The autopsy had failed to show the cause of death of Melissa Guiman. Further tests were to be conducted. In the meantime, the search for her mother continued. A check with a landlady showed the victim's mother hadn't returned to her home during the night. We contacted her sister, but she hasn't heard from Joan Guiman. The afternoon papers carried a story on the little girl's death. Frank and I checked with Sergeant Jay Allen again, but he hadn't come up with anything new. 3.20 p.m. You want to go out and see the sister? I don't think she's going to do much good. She said she'd call if she heard anything. Yeah. I got it. Do you have an old smith? Yeah, that's right. Hmm? Yeah, we have. So where are you? All right, I'll stay right there. That's right. Huh? As soon as we can. Joan Guiman. Where is she? Bar down on East Fifth. She know about the little girl? Yeah, wants to see us right away. Well, that makes us even. She's got more of a reason. Hmm? Says she killed her daughter. Frank and I left the city hall and drove over to the bar. When we walked into the place, it appeared to be deserted. The bartender told us there was a woman answering the description we gave him in one of the rear booths. Joan Guiman was in her late 20s, but she looked at least 40. She'd been drinking heavily and she'd been crying. Yeah. Is that what you're looking for? You're Ms. Guiman. That's right. Who are you? I'm Frank Smith. My name's Friday. Yeah. I knew you'd be here. I know. Good. Why don't you sit right down and make yourself comfortable? Which one of your fellas I talked to? You talked to me. Yeah. Well, then you know why I asked you to come down here. Yes, ma'am. You want to tell us about it? No. How's that? You asked me if I wanted to talk about it. Well, I don't. I don't even want to think about it. I wish it never happened. Is that right? You probably think it's funny. I'm not crying, don't you? Don't you? You think there's something wrong with me? My baby's dead and I'm not crying? Well, do you want to know why? You want to know? Why don't you tell us, lady? Because there ain't no tears left. I'm not a single one. I'm all cried out. That's why. You better put that down. You've had enough of that. I think I'll have a lot more. A lot more. You said you killed your little girl. Is that right? That's right. Well, tell us about it, will you? No reason not to. No reason for anything anymore. All right, go ahead. Killed her? Killed her? It's like I'd put a gun up to her head. I killed her. Is this the same? Go ahead. Poor little kid. She doesn't want much. Hardly anything. Well, those dolls with the hair you can wave, that's all. The doll with curly hair and her mother. Is she that, the doll? I gave her a story yesterday. When we came back from the zoo. He said, saying how happy she was. Because she was happy. Another thing I wouldn't give her. No mother. Poor little kid. She didn't have no mother. Just me, that's all it's mean. Yeah. That's why I did it. What's that? Killed her. If I'd been her mother and kept her with me, it would never have happened. She'd be all right now. Neglect. That's what did it, neglect. And I gave it to her. Never paid no attention to her. All the time, too busy with what I was doing. I didn't pay any attention to her. I didn't pay any attention at all. All right, come on, Liddy. Where are we going? Downtown. What for? I think we'll be able to talk better there. Oh, I know I can go any place. Honestly, right here. My baby is dead. Poor little kid didn't have no mother. Why don't you just go away and leave me alone? You know we can't do that. Why not? There are a lot of something that says you got to harm people. That's what you're doing. Now, wait a minute. You leave me alone. I don't like to do this to me. By the time these cops are giving me trouble, help me. Come on, Liddy. You're only making it harder on yourself. Leave me alone. Get away from me. Come on, don't cause any more trouble. If you were a gentleman, you wouldn't do this to me. If you were a lady, we wouldn't have to. We took the woman back to the city hall. After several cups of hot coffee, she straightened out enough to give us a story. She went over each step of the previous day, naming all the places she and her daughter had gone and all of the foods they'd eaten. There was no apparent cause for the child's death. In talking to her, we found that the child was wearing different clothing when she was brought to the hospital. Frank and I drove out to Mrs. Guyman's sister's home and picked up the dress and the coat the little girl had worn. It was turned over to the crime lab, 2.15 p.m. Juvenile Friday. Yeah. I don't know. We'll have to check it. Right. Yeah, soon as we know, right. Right pinker over at the lab. We'll have to just finish going over the little girl's dress. Find anything? A couple of stains. Yeah. Traces of poison. Along with a crew from the crime lab, Frank, Mrs. Guyman and I went back to her apartment where a thorough search was started. From the analysis of the stains found on the child's dress, Sergeant J. Allen said the death might have been caused by minute quantities of poison in another fluid. While he and his crew went over the apartment, Frank and I talked to Mrs. Guyman. Couldn't be anything here. Were the child alone at all yesterday? No, I don't think so. We went to the zoo and came back here. Gave her the doll and we played with that for a while. Mm-hmm. Did you leave the apartment at all? Yeah. Down to the corner to make a phone call. Only gone a couple of minutes. Your daughter was here alone then? Yes, but she couldn't have gotten into anything. I was only gone a little while. I was still playing with the doll when I got back. Mrs. Guyman, our crime lab seems to think she might have been poisoned by some sort of polish. What do you mean? Looks like a metal polish of some kind. You sure? Certainly. I don't know, my place. They have to tear everything up like this. It'll all be straightened out. I hope so. Looks like there's never going to be an end to it. Joe? Yeah, Jay. See you in a minute. Mm-hmm. What do you got? I think this is it. I found out the kitchen under the sink. Metal polish? Yeah. Isn't one of the standard brands. Certainly isn't one of the off brands either, is it? Mm-hmm. I've never seen it before. The bottle's almost empty. Cap was off when we found it. Any chance it might have spilled out? No, it doesn't look like it. None on the floor around the bottle. You want to come out in the kitchen? We'll check it for prints. They got the kid out there. Can you tell for sure, Jay? No, we can get an idea, though. Joe, it's coming through. You see there? Yeah. What do you think? After all the child's prints, to be sure, it looks like it, though. The fingers are pretty small. You can see yourself pretty tiny. I guess that does it. Thanks, Jay. What did they find? You know what happened? We think so, yeah. How? We found an empty bottle of metal polish in the kitchen. Looks like your daughter drank some of it. She couldn't have. I was with her all the time. She couldn't have gotten to it. You said you left her alone. Not that long. She didn't have time. I was only gone a couple of minutes. That's all. Just a couple of minutes. That was long enough. That's not true. Just making it up. Trying to make it all my fault. No, ma'am. Yes, you are. You're trying to make out I did kill her. You're saying it's my fault. No, it isn't. Well, then you tell us. Huh? Whose fault is it? The story you've just heard is true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On August 18th, an inquest was held in the coroner's office in and for the county of Los Angeles, state of California. In a moment, the results of that inquest. After examining all the evidence, a coroner's jury decided that the death of the June Gaiman was due to accidental poisoning. You have just heard DRAGNET, the series of authentic cases from official files. Technical advice comes from the office of Chief of Police W. H. Parker, Los Angeles Police Department.