 The story you are about to hear is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Fatima cigarettes. Best of all, king-sized cigarettes brings you drag net on both radio and television. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned a homicide detail. A 39-year-old housewife disappears suddenly. There's no explanation for it. Five days later, evidence of possible foul plays uncovered. Your job, investigate. Fatima, America's first largest selling blended cigarette. Now, best of all, king-sized cigarettes. Prove it yourself. Today, compare Fatima with any other king-sized cigarette. One, Fatima's length filters the smoke 85 millimeters for your protection. Two, Fatima's length cools the smoke for your protection. Three, Fatima's length gives you those extra pups, 21% longer than standard cigarette size. And in Fatima, you get an extra mild and soothing smoke, plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Definitely the best quality in its class. But the same price as a cigarette you're now smoking. Bye, Fatima, in the bright, sunny yellow pack. Best of all, king-sized cigarettes. 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 violence. From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Dragnet is the story of your police force in action. It was Wednesday, September 15th. It was hot in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out of homicide. My partner's Ed Jacobs, the boss of Stad Brown, Chief of Detectives. My name's Friday. I was on the way back from lunch, and it was 12.56 PM when I got to room 42. Homicide. All right, Joe, waiting for you. Hi, Ed. Al, here you got something for us, huh? Mm-hmm. Here's the report right here. Gardner, by the name of Abbott, called in day before yesterday. Chester Abbott said his wife disappeared from their home out in the valley Thursday night. He says he thinks she left him. That was every day. Not this way, it doesn't. Walsh and I went out to talk to the man yesterday. His story doesn't make too much sense. How you mean, Al? None of his wife's clothes are missing, none of her luggage. She even left her pocketbook behind, full of money. We found out from the neighbors the missing woman has a 17-year-old boy by a former marriage. Does that mean anything? He's an only child. Mother don't sound like a kid. She didn't even say goodbye to him. Well, how'd this Chester Abbott impress you? Pretty grouchy with Walsh and me. No cooperation. Wants to find his wife, doesn't he? I don't know. I'm not sure. He's no help. I can tell you that much. Could I see every report out? Yeah, here you are. Thank you. Florence Trumbull Abbott, age 39. Abbott's her second husband. Prisman died a little after the boy was born. Mm-hmm. Disappeared Thursday night from the home 546 Bolasco Road between 7 and 8 o'clock. Well, when did Abbott call in to notify you? Monday afternoon. Told us he thought his wife might have been spending the weekend with her sister. When he found out she wasn't, he called us. You meet the boy when you were out there? Yeah, that's another thing. How do you mean? The kid came riding up on a bike when we were talking to one of the neighbors. We tried to talk to him, but the old man came out and hustled the boy into the house. Then he started showing us out. Oh, it's his trouble. Told us it was our job to find his wife, not to go prying into his stepson's affairs. Mm-hmm. It's a new slant. Well, how about the woman's friends and relatives? They've been checked out, you know? Walsh is on it now. Don't think he's had much luck contacting him so far. I'll tell you the truth. I don't like the looks of it. Mm-hmm. Mrs. Abbott have any other relatives here? I mean, besides the sister and two aunts? Yeah, I got the list right over here. Sure wish we had a chance to talk to that boy. Notice anything else out of the way about Mr. Abbott now? Well, I don't know. Here's that list, Joe. Oh, thank you. Abbott was upset all right. I don't know, though. He didn't exactly strike me as reacting the way a normal man reacts when his wife's disappeared. Well, how about a copy of this report? You got one to spare? Yeah, sure. Just a minute, yeah. Missing persons by Getty? That's right. This is by Getty speaking. Who's that? Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure. About what? All right, good. Four o'clock? Fine. All right, son, goodbye. Well, that was the boy I was telling you about, Mr. Abbott's stepson. What do you want? He wants to talk to a sounded worried. About his mother? He thinks something's happened to her. In police work, missing persons detail is not a department separate in itself. It's organized as a part of homicide division. When the possibility of homicide arises in the course of handling a case, missing persons immediately turns the matter over to homicide officers for investigation. When we got the call from the Abbott boy, we automatically took over. According to Al Bargetti, the boy said he suspected his stepfather and he didn't want him to know of any meeting between him and police officers. At 315, Ed and I left the office and drove to the meeting place designated by the boy, the Dairyland Fountain and Coffee Shop near the corner of Fairfax and Hollywood Boulevard. We got there at 3.50 PM. At 8 minutes past 5, the Abbott boy still had not arrived. We waited another 15 minutes and then we left and drove out to the valley and pulled up in front of the main gate to the Abbott nursery on Balasco Road. The house itself was set well back on the property which covered about five acres of ground. The entire nursery was surrounded by a six-foot chain link fence and it looked like every available foot of ground inside was planted with some kind of flower or shrub. Mr. Abbott met us at the gate. He had three full-grown mastiffs with him. He held him on a chain. Yes, what do you want? Police officers, you, Chester Abbott? That's right. What do you want? If you can get those dogs fired for no reason, I'd like to ask you some questions. Pretty busy now. Can you come back tomorrow? No, it's important, Abbott. We'd like to talk to you now. All right, if you have to. Hey, it's time. Get down now. You do go. Quiet, now. I said quiet! All right. Now, what do you want? Mind if we come inside, sir? What? Dogs are minding pretty vicious. We can talk here at the gate. All right. We've been assigned to look into your wife's disappearance, Abbott. This is my partner, Sergeant Jacobs. My name's Friday. Find out anything about my wife yet? Nothing definite, no. I thought maybe you could help us. Mind telling us exactly what happened the night she disappeared. What do you mean, what happened? Well, when did you see her last? When did you first notice she was gone? Well, we had dinner at 39, about 7 o'clock, and I laid down for a nap. Florence went out on the front porch for some air. I woke up a little 4-8 o'clock and went outside to look for her. She was gone. No one saw her leave, Mr. Abbott? Not that I know of. Maybe one of our neighbors, you can ask them. They seem to know everybody's business. How about your stepson? Wasn't he home Thursday night? Bruce? No, he went out to a show with some other kids. When did he get back from the show, you remember? About 10 o'clock, I think. Why? Where's the boy now, Abbott? Who are you looking for, my wife or stepson? Both of them. Where is he? Gone. I took him over to my sister's in Alhambra. He'd been feeling bad since his mother disappeared. Figures of change are doing good. Well, when did you take him over to your sister's? This afternoon. What's that got to do with it? I'd like to talk to him. No, you can't. It won't allow it. The boy's too upset right now, and I can't allow it. I'm afraid you're going to have to allow it, Abbott. Listen, mister, you can get off this property right now if you want to get fresh with me. No cops are giving me any sass. Get down there, honey! Quiet! Nobody's giving you sass. We want to talk to your stepson. That's all he might be able to give us a lead on the whereabouts of your wife. I say you can't see the boy. You've been looking for Florence for a week and you haven't found a thing. I'll get somebody else to look for her. It's my business anyway. Nobody else's. It's our business, if anything happened to her. What are you talking about? You better get your coat, Abbott. I'd like to talk to you downtown. Something's at gate. Now, let these dogs go. We'd hate to shoot them, mister. What do you find to prove anyhow? What do I have to get downtown for? I'll tell you when we get there and I'll get your coat. Chester Abbott turned, made his way up the path and into the house. A few minutes later, he came out, closed the gate behind him, and got into our car. On the way back downtown, he talked pleasantly about the weather, the nursery business, and his dogs. When we got to the office, we found out the reason for his sudden change in temperament. His lawyer was waiting for us at the door. We tried to interrogate Abbott, but the lawyer objected to just about every question we asked. It was hopeless, and we knew it, and so did the lawyer. We released Abbott, but not before we got the name and address of his sister in Alhambra, where the stepson, Bruce, was supposedly staying. After Abbott and his lawyer left, Ed and I signed out of the office and drove to Alhambra to check on the boy. I'll get it. Sure had this one, tagged real sleeper. Yeah. Like now, the stepson missed that date with us this afternoon. The boy called us from the house. Stepfather could have overheard him. That's possible. Sister's house ought to be along this block, shouldn't it? Let's see. 1408. Oh, six, yeah. Yeah, there it is. Great cottage, 1402. OK, let's pull up here now. All right. Nice looking place. Well-capped, huh? Nice neighborhood. Wonder how a lot of prices run out here. Yes, what is it? Police officers, ma'am. You miss Abbott? Yes, hell on Abbott, why? Well, we talked to your brother earlier today, Miss Abbott. He said he brought his stepson, Bruce, over here to stay a while. We'd like to see him if we could. Bruce? Well, yes, he was here until about an hour and a half ago. I went to the store when I came back. He was gone. Any idea where we can find him, Miss Abbott? Well, I telephone my brother, Chester, just before you came to the door. Bruce isn't there. Yes, ma'am. Do you mind if we came and looked around, Miss Abbott? It won't take long. Well, why? I told you Bruce isn't here. It's the truth. There's no reason to lie about it, is there? Well, no, ma'am. It's not that. Well, then what is it? No reason for me to lie to you? How about your brother? We went in and looked the house over from one end to the other. There wasn't a trace of the boy. We drove back to the Abbott nursery and satisfied ourselves. The boy wasn't there. Meantime, the home of Chester Abbott's sister in Alhambra was kept under constant surveillance. No one came or went. The next morning, when Ed and I checked in for work as usual at 8 AM, we met with Sergeant Al Barghetti. Well, I had half an idea there might be something wrong. What makes you so positive, though? Let's just do it. Oh, we're not positive. It's the whole setup, I guess. Mel's been. How do you mean, for instance? Well, Abbott's lawyer, for one thing. If a man's innocent, he doesn't have his lawyer sit with him and tell him not to answer any question. Yeah. Number two, the kid's phone call. He didn't show up for that date. You figure. I don't know. Could be he doesn't get along with his stepfather. Happens, you know. Maybe he's trying to get back at him for something or other. Yeah, that could be him. Why is Abbott hiding him out then? Pretty sure he's hiding him out? Well, if things have been going, another way to take it. Mrs. Abbott walked away from her home last Thursday night. Nobody saw her. She took nothing with her. No luggage, no clothes, no money. That's it. You checked with her family doctor? Yesterday, told us Mrs. Abbott was in perfect health. Checked her bank statements, double-checked the names for wanderers, file repeaters, found missing persons. Couldn't find it in either one. Her relatives, too. How you talk to them? Some of them, yeah, hell. Got a few more to check out this morning. One thing's certain, no clothes, no money, no luggage. She couldn't have gone very far. You checked all the angles, huh? Sheriff's office, the jails, the hospitals, sent out a teletype and an APV. It's been gone almost a week, and nobody's seen it. How's that add up to you? Well, they got an idea. I hope I'm wrong. 8 45 AM, Ed and I left the office and continued making the rounds of the missing woman's friends and relatives. We checked at the Western National Bank where Mrs. Abbott maintained another account. Her saving statement showed a total balance of $31,564.17. Her checking account had a balance of $842.71. At the farmer's mutual, we found the record of an insurance policy issued to Florence Trumbull Abbott. It was a 20-pay life policy covering the insured in the amount of $30,000. The beneficiary was listed as the insured son, Bruce Trumbull Abbott, if living upon receipt of such due proof, if not the insured's husband, Chester J Abbott. For the time we finished checking the missing woman's financial status, we figured we had a fair suspect and the husband, Chester Abbott. From casual reports, we knew he was a frugal man almost to the point of obsession. If he was greedy as well, if he wanted or needed money badly enough to kill, then he had all the motives necessary to murder his wife, maybe a stepson too. 6.40 PM, Ed and I drove back to the office. Go ahead. Long day, out of mileage. Wonder if Al's still around. Hey, Bargetty. Al? Yeah, here, is that you, Friday? Yeah. How'd you do? Get anything? A few things, pretty fair luck. Good. I got some more for you. Just walked in here 10 minutes ago. Oh, yeah. Bruce Abbott, he's waiting in the next room. We went into the next room and met the Abbott boy. He was small for a 17-year-old, dark-haired, thin, a little on the sickly side. He seemed nervous and upset. He told us that he wasn't able to keep the date he made with us on the phone because his stepfather did apparently overhear the conversation and drove the boy immediately to his sister's place in Alhambra. We asked the boy what made him so sure that his stepfather was responsible for his mother's disappearance. Well, for one thing, all three of us usually go to the early show on Thursday night, Chester, Mom, and me. But last Thursday, we didn't go. Why was that, son? Chester said he wasn't feeling too good, and he wanted Mom to stay home and take care of him. Then he told me to go on ahead of the show, so I did. What time did you get home, Bruce? About a quarter to 10, 10 o'clock. Did you notice anything unusual when you got home, son? Not so much, no. Mom wasn't there. I didn't think much about it then. I thought maybe she was over to one of the neighbors. You asked your stepfather where she was? Uh-huh. He said he didn't know. He said he thought she was over at one of the neighbors, too. What was your stepfather doing when you got home? Just sitting in the living room, reading a paper. I usually don't talk to him too much. I just ask him where Mom was, and he told me. And then I went back to my room and went to bed. You noticed anything unusual about the way he acted? Anything different about him at all? Well, I'm not too sure. He did seem a little nervous, though, jumpy. More than usual, I think. Uh-huh. Anything else? Well, when I came through the front yard, I noticed the dogs had mud all over their paws, Red, Jaime, and George, all three of them. They must have been out in the nursery plots. Anything unusual about that? In a way, yeah. You see, the dogs don't go out in the plots unless Chester's with them. He doesn't want them to trample the seedlings. I noticed Chester had mud on his shoes that night, too. And you figured your stepfather was out digging somewhere in the nursery plots that night, huh? Yeah, that's right. Digging somewhere. He must have been. Can't figure out why, though. What do you mean, son? My stepfather never works at night. You are listening to Dragnet, authentic stories of your police force in action. Compare Fatima with any other king-size cigarette. One, Fatima's length filters the smoke 85 millimeters for your protection. Two, Fatima's length cools the smoke for your protection. Three, Fatima's length gives you those extra pups, 21% longer than standard cigarette size. And in Fatima, you get an extra mild and soothing smoke plus the added protection of Fatima quality. To show our confidence in Fatima, we make this money-back guarantee to every king-size cigarette smoker. Buy a pack of Fatimas. Enjoy Fatima quality, extra mildness, and superbly blended tobaccos. If you're not convinced Fatima is better than the king-size cigarette you're now smoking, just return the pack and the unsmoked Fatimas before August 1st, 1952, and we'll give you your money-back plus postage. Fatima, box 37, New York 1. Remember, each king-size Fatima gives you an extra mild and soothing smoke plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Switch to Fatima today. Best of all, king-size cigarettes. Thursday, September 16th, 7.05 p.m., we continue talking to the missing woman, 17-year-old son, Bruce Abbott. As the interview went on, it became more and more obvious that the boy and his stepfather, Chester Abbott, didn't get along at all. Apparently, the boy was jealous of him and he was jealous of the boy. Besides his prejudice, Bruce also contradicted himself during the course of the questioning. 7.15 p.m., the interview went on. I understand that all right, son, but you say you can't think of any reason why your father'd be out working the nursery plots that time of night? No, sir, I can't. I don't know how he'd get any work done. None of the plots are even lighted, only the greenhouses. Well, it possibly could have gotten that mud on his shoes working in one of the greenhouses. No, sir, I don't see how. All the paths in the greenhouses are gravel. It's my job to see they're kept gravel. I know they weren't muddy because I fixed them the day before. Well, what do you think it means, Bruce? I don't know. I don't want to think about it. I just know he's done something. He's done something to her. Your father, that is your stepfather, give you any reason for keeping you away from the police officers that came to your house? I mean the first two officers who showed up? No, he said people were getting nosy, that's all. He said it might be better for me over at my Aunt Helen's place. Do you think your Aunt Helen might know where your mother is? I don't think so. We hardly ever see Aunt Helen. We don't know her well at all. Well, do you know if your mother and stepfather argued very much, son? I mean, big arguments. Sometimes, yeah, mostly about me. What do you mean? Chester's pretty tight, you know. Doesn't like to spend money at all. He and mom used to argue about whether I ought to get paid for the work I did around the nursery. Chester didn't want to pay me. That's all. Yeah, when I started working, he promised he'd pay me. I was saving up to buy a 31 Model A. After a couple of weeks when he didn't pay me, I asked him about it. He told me I ought to be glad to work for him for nothing. And your mother argued with him about that? Sure, she got good and mad, too. She should have gotten mad. It was her money that bought the nursery anyway. How'd you happen to get away from your aunt's place, Bruce? It wasn't too hard. Helen had some shopping to do and she left me alone. She locked the door to my room. Even the screen over the window was nailed down, but I kicked it out and got away. I stayed at a friend's house last night. You thought much about where you're going to stay tonight, son? Well, I don't know. Sergeant Berghetti, I was talking to him. He asked me if I wanted to go out and have dinner and then stay at his house tonight. And I don't know. Sounds like a good idea to me. I don't know. Sure nice of him to ask me. I think it'd be a lot better for you, son. Why don't you check in the next office to see if Berghetti's ready to leave, huh? Yeah. OK, Sergeant, thanks. Sure, you betcha. Joe, what do you think? It's hard to say. He might be lying. Before we signed out of the office that night, we met with Captain Warman and outlined a plan to bring in the husband of the missing woman for questioning alone. We figured it had served two purposes, clarify the boy's position in the case, and determine one way or another if the stepfather was withholding information about the disappearance of Mrs. Abbott. The big problem was to bring in Chester Abbott for interrogation without the knowledge of his lawyer. As we'd found out more than once, it was impossible to get anything out of Abbott with his lawyer present. We set up a plan to call at the Abbott home early in the morning, get the suspect out of bed, and bring him in before his lawyer could be notified. At 3.30 the following morning, Ed and I met at the office and started for the Abbott place. We brought along a couple of pounds of fresh horse meat to keep the dogs quiet if they raised a fuss. At 10 minutes past 4 AM, we parked our car a few hundred feet down the road from the Abbott nursery and made our way toward the gate. I reached in and tried to relax. The dog started up. How about it, Joe? Open? No, it's padlocked. We're going to have to climb the fence. Toss some of that meat over to him, will you? OK. There. That does it. All right, let's climb the fence. Keeping an eye on the hounds looks like they could take a leg off. Yeah. Take it easy, Ed. All right. Watch out. Here comes that other dog. Get some more of that meat ready. Yeah. There you are, boy. Go get it. Come on. All right, that's fine. Come on, let's hurry. Have a look, Joe. Windows along the side of the house, lights just went on. Yeah, come on. Who's there? Who is it? I'll set the dogs on you. Police officers, Abbott, Friday and Jacobs. What kind of business is this? What are you doing out here this time of night? You're under arrest, Mr. Abbott. What are you talking about? I think you heard me. You're under arrest. What kind of crazy thing is this? You're going to pay for this. I'll have your jobs. You want to get your coat? Your cops are asking for a pack of trouble. You know that. Get your coat. I'd like to know what you think you're doing. Where's my stepson anyway? What have you done with him? I got a better one for you, Mr. What have you done with your wife? 425 AM. Ed and I drove the suspect, Chester Abbott, back downtown to the office. He was quiet and sullen. We headed down the hall for the squad room. Lights still burning in the office. Now, probably by Gettys standing by. All right, Abbott, in there. You're going to pay for this. You can take my word on that. Ed, you want to take him in the office and stay with him. I'll check with Al. OK. All right, Abbott, inside. Joe, you bring him in? Yeah, he's next door. Ed's with him. Tough. Somebody must have seen you. No, I don't think so. They must have. Why? What do you mean? Abbott's lawyer. He's sitting in the next room. Now, the lawyer had been notified. He couldn't be sure. Again, we tried to question Abbott. And again, on the advice of his attorney, he refused to answer practically every question we put to him. We released him. That day, Captain Norman assigned two men to stake out on the nursery and report on all of Chester Abbott's movements. A little after 7 PM, just after ninth fall, we tried again to bring the suspect in for questioning without his lawyer's knowledge. It didn't work. The men assigned to stake out on the Abbott place reported definitely that someone was tipping off the attorney whenever unknown visitors showed up at the nursery and drove off together with Mr. Abbott. There was nothing we could do about it. The following morning, Al Barghetti came up with a lead. Had a long talk with a boy last night. Think he came up with a pretty fair lead. How's that? The old man's responsible. We know there's only one way we'll get a conviction. Find the body and enough evidence to tie him in. Yeah, well, where do we start looking? In a new rose bed, it's next to one of the greenhouses in Abbott's nursery. Boy telling this? Yeah, seems to make sense. We know old man Abbott's crazy about saving a dollar. We found that out from the neighbors and the relatives. On the nursery trade, especially in the limited area Abbott has to work in, you cultivate every foot of ground you have. You plant every foot of soil with something. Well, yeah, what's the point? Well, Abbott's not the type to waste anything. He wouldn't let ground lie fallow when he could plant something that might bring in a few dollars next spring. Bruce tells me a stepfather has every inch of the property planted with something. Everything except the six by eight plot of ground in that rose garden. Well, what did the boy say? A plot been vacant for a long? Well, he says his stepfather got it ready for planting. A week and a half ago, it's still vacant. Be worth checking out. How do we do it? We can order up a crew from the crime lab. They can take probings through the plot all around it. They ought to be able to tell us how deep the ground's been worked over lately. OK, what do you figure tonight? I think so, yeah, maybe 11, 12 o'clock. What about old man Abbott? Do you think he's going to sit still for it? The hunch pays off. He's going to sit still a long time. It was 10 minutes past 11 that night when we got to the Abbott nursery. Lee Jones and the crime lab crew, Albert Getty Ed and two other men from homicide. The men on stakeout told us Chester Abbott, along with his attorney, had left the house a half hour before in his car, a dark blue coupe. They hadn't returned. Ed brought along another supply of fresh horse meat for the dog so he didn't have any trouble there. We located the vacant plot of ground in the rose bed next to one of the greenhouses as Bruce Abbott had described it to Bargetty. The crime lab crew started probing. The ground, obviously, had been worked over recently. And to some depth, they started digging. Anderson, get that light over here with you. Thanks. Joe, see anything? No, let's keep digging. It's right over here. Yeah. You know, this is it. He wasn't taking any chances. Down a good four or five feet now, wouldn't you say? Yeah, at least that. Anderson, more light, huh? All right, let's go at it. All right, wait a minute. Yeah. Woman's shoe here. Come on. Chester, better. Yeah, that's it. Shoulder there, it's a body. Well, it paid off, Al. The boy had it figured. Yeah, too bad he was right. Ed and I went back to our car and notified communications to broadcast a warrant for murder on Chester Abbott. His description together with the description of his car and license number was rebroadcast every 15 minutes. The attorney was contacted and he stated that Mr. Abbott had dropped him off at his home more than an hour before. He knew nothing of his whereabouts. Ed and I went back to check the Abbott home and found the front door unlocked. We went inside and looked around. In one bedroom, we found clothes scattered over the bed and on the floor. There was only one old suit left in one closet. On the table next to the bed, we found an airline's timetable. We got to the phone and notified communications to alert all special details at railroad stations, bus terminals, and airports, and then to get out an APB. After that, we checked with the airlines. One of them told us a man answering Abbott's description of the book passage to Mexico City that night under the name of Charles Frazier. The plane was scheduled to leave at 1.52 a.m. at the Burbank Airport. We called the detail at the airport and alerted him. Then we drove over to the field to follow through on it. It was 1.32 a.m. when Ed and I took up our positions just inside gate three where passengers were boarding Flight 72 for Mexico City. There was no sign of the suspect either on the plane or in the waiting room. Thank you, Phil. I don't know. Walk your bag over here. Where's Baguetti? Over there, mother cocktail line, sim. Oh, yeah. What time you got now? 1.38. Plane's due to take off in another four minutes, isn't it? Mm-hmm. Any sign of him now? No, nothing. Just made the rounds. Check with Stevens and Cummings if he got in. He came in somebody's suitcase. Couldn't have possibly gotten through without one of us seeing him. Well, well, he hasn't got much more time. Maybe it's a dead end, huh? You don't see how he could have gotten wise to you. Over there. No, no. By the ticket counter there, you see him? Yeah. That's him. Come on. All right. All right, just a minute, Abbott. I haven't got time now. I'll miss my plane. If you have anything more to say to me, it can wait till I get back. Right. Not, Abbott. And take it up my lawyer. I'm in a hurry. We found your wife's body. How's that? In the rose bed next to the greenhouse. I don't know what you mean. You must be mistaken. No mistake. Hands behind your back. What's this all about? I haven't done anything. All right. Let's go. No. Just a minute. You got it wrong. I don't know anything about it. We think you do. Now, come on. Wasn't my fault. I didn't know what I was doing. I plead insanity. She drove me to it. We were arguing about the boy and she slapped me. I didn't mean to do it. All right. Let's go, Abbott. Can you wait just a minute more? What for? A plane. One from Mexico City. Funny, isn't it? What's that? I was so close. Just missed it. I'd buy more in one minute. No, you're wrong about that, Abbott. Just one minute. That's all. You missed it before you ever bought your ticket. How do you figure? When you first decided to kill your wife. Come on. What you have just heard was true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On December 19th, trial was held in Superior Court, Department 89, 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, George Phenomenon. Friends, I'm holding two sets of fingerprint cards. Now, on one, prints found at the scene of a crime. On the second, a suspect's taken from the files. Now, the only way in the world you can tell they're made by the same suspect is by comparison. If you'll compare Fatima with any other king-sized cigarette, you'll find Fatima's length filters the smoke, 85 millimeters for your protection. Fatima's length cools the smoke for your protection. Fatima's length gives you those extra puffs. 21% longer than standard cigarette size. And you get an extra mild and soothing smoke, plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Prove it today. Bye, Fatima. ["Battle of Fatima"] Chester Vernon Abbott was tried and convicted of murder in the first degree. The jury failed to recommend clemency. Abbott was executed in the lethal gas chamber at the state penitentiary San Quentin, California. ["Battle of Fatima"] You have just heard Dragmit, 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. Technical Advisors Captain Jack Donahoe, Sergeant Marty Wynn, and Sergeant Vance Brasher. Heard tonight were Barney Phillips and Herb Ellis. Script by Jim Moser. Music by Walter Schumann. Hell, give me speaking. Fatima cigarettes. Best of all, king-sized cigarettes has brought you Dragonet transcribed from Los Angeles. Now it's Counter-Spy on NBC.