 you're 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 woman reports the disappearance of her 30-year-old brother. He's been missing for only two days, but the manner of his disappearance was sudden out of the ordinary. Your job? Investigate. Fatima, America's first largest-selling blended cigarette. Fatima, now best of all, king-sized cigarettes. Prove it yourself. Today, compare Fatima with the king-sized cigarette you are now smoking. 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 puffs, 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. Buy Fatima in the bright, sunny yellow pack. Best of all, king-sized cigarettes. The document had 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, November 14th. It was overcast in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out a homicide detail. My partner's Ed Jacobs. The boss is Kevin Mormon. My name's Friday. We were on the way out from the office, and it was 8.56 AM when we got to the SNH paper company on 4th Street, the rear entrance. Where do we find it, Joe, upstairs? No, main floor. He told me we'd find her in the timekeeper's office. He said it was near the back door entrance. We couldn't miss it. Let's give a look down the corridor. Maybe one of the workers can tell us. Yeah, right. Looks like some kind of an office there, doesn't it, just beyond the time clock? Yeah. Let's see, Paymaster Head timekeeper, yeah, that's it. The door's locked, Ed. You want to wrap on the pay window? Yeah. Yeah? Police officers, ma'am. We have an appointment with Miss Edith Tabor. Oh, yes, officers. I'm Edith Tabor. Just a moment, please. I'll ring the buzzer. Just push on the door. All right, thank you, ma'am. Go ahead, Ed. All right. Are you the one I talked to on the phone, Sergeant Friday? Yes, ma'am. That's right. This is my partner, Sergeant Jacobs. They do. This is about your brother, Miss Tabor. Ralph Tabor, is that right? Yes, that's right. I know there must be something wrong. Ralph's been gone since Sunday. No one's seen him. No one's heard from him. I'm worried sick about it. Last time you saw him was on Sunday? No, I didn't actually see him. I talked to him on the phone. I made a date for dinner. Ralph and I always have dinner together Sunday nights. It's about the only time in the week we do get to see each other. I see. I believe you told me on the phone you already checked with most of his friends the places he'd most likely be, is that right? I called everyone I can think of. No one's seen him. Your brother's never done anything like this before, Miss? Going off without telling anyone? No, never. I'm very worried, Sergeant. When you think of any reason at all, I'd want to disappear of his own free will, I mean? No. No reason in the world for it. He seemed perfectly all right when I talked to him on the phone Sunday. Everything was fine. We made a date for the movies Tuesday night. That was for last night. Picture downtown we wanted to see. He made a special point of it. I just know something must have happened. I gather you know most of your brother's friends you've kept in fairly close touch with him, haven't? Yes. We get together at least once a week, as I say. I'm four years older than Ralph. I've looked after him since we were kids. We've always been together the last five or six years, especially ever since mama died. Your brother in a pretty stable mental condition, wasn't he? No financial worries, nothing of that kind? No, sir, nothing I know about. I'd like to double check this information that you gave me on the phone, Miss Taber. Your name and address and his description. Yes, sir. The full name Ralph Lawrence Taber, 14316 Al Maiden Street, male white American occupation interior decorator, is that it? Yes, that's right. Height, 5'4", 1155 pounds, dark blonde hair, gray eyes, fair complexion, birthmark on left side of neck. Yes, that's all correct. Your brother in the habit of carrying large sums of money around with him, do you know? No, not that I know of. He has a good job. He's not getting rich at it, though. I don't think I've ever seen Ralph with more than $20, $30 on him at a time. Who was the last person to see him, Miss? Any idea? Well, I talked to Ralph's landlady. She told me she saw Ralph and this friend of his, Andy Howard, going into Ralph's apartment. That was about six o'clock Sunday night. Ralph was supposed to meet me at 7.30, never showed up. Now, this friend of your brother's, Miss Taber, is Andy Howard? Are you acquainted with him? Yes, but I don't know him too well. I only met him two or three times. He lives in the apartment house next door to Ralph, so the two of them were friends in the Navy together during the war, good friends. You tried to get in touch with this Andy Howard? Yes, I called Ralph's apartment when he didn't show up for a dinner date Sunday night. Wasn't any answer, so I looked up Andy's number in the phone book and called him. Was he at home? Yes. Tried to talk to him, but it didn't do much good. String. How's that? He pretended he didn't even know me. After we finished our interview with Edith Taber, Ed Jacobs and I started out to double check with all unknown friends and associates of her brother. We talked to his employer and the people he worked with. None of them had seen him, subsequent to 6 o'clock Sunday night. None of them could think of any good reason why he suddenly would want to pick up and leave his job and friends. The people he knew outside of his work told us the same thing. Nobody could explain it. Along the way, we inquired about Ralph Taber's friend, Andy Howard. Most of the people we talked to knew him as a close friend of Taber's. We checked at Howard's place of employment, but they told us he hadn't shown up for work since the previous Friday. We drove to Howard's apartment, checked with a manager, and he said that Howard had moved without notice late Sunday night. We crossed over to the apartment house next door, where Taber lived and talked to the landlady of Mrs. Higbee. She corroborated the story we'd gotten from Taber's sister that Andy Howard was last seen entering Taber's apartment at about 6 o'clock Sunday night. Taber was with him. Mrs. Higbee was sure of that. She showed us up to the third floor to Ralph Taber's apartment. The two rooms and the adjoining kitchenette were immaculate. There wasn't a thing out of place. You just pinned Joe not a thing out of order. Yeah, it's the same in the bedroom. Say, Mrs. Higbee. Yes, I do. Do you provide maid service with the apartments here? No, we don't. We've been thinking about it, though. Haven't quite made up our minds such a task, getting good, competent health these days. The tenants are responsible for the entire upkeep. Yes. Everything but painting, wallpapering, things like that. Doesn't Mr. Taber keep things spotless? Just spotless? Yes, ma'am. There's just one thing I want to ask you about. It's over here by the window. Yes. Now this wire here, apparently an aerial connection for a television set. Looks like same. Yes. Mr. Taber does have a television. Why? Well, I don't notice a set anywhere in the apartment. Would you have to recall if he sent it out for repairs? Anything like that? No, not that I know of. Besides, this doesn't seem like Mr. Taber at all. How do you mean, Mrs. Higbee? He's always so neat, fastidious. End of that wire there. Looks like it was torn off the connection, doesn't it? Along the window sill, too, isn't that terrible? Fasteners for the wire ripped right out of the woodwork. That certainly doesn't seem like Mr. Taber. Anyone else besides him have access to this apartment, ma'am? No one that I know of. No one besides myself, I mean. I have duplicate keys to all the apartments. I just happen to think. Yes, ma'am. If a repairman did move the set out, it's possible my house boy might know about it. Sam, that's my house boy. How would he know about it? Well, it's a rule of the house, all furniture, heavy things like that. They have to be taken down in the freight elevator. It opens right onto the alley and back of the building. It's very handy. Yes, ma'am. Sam's the only one who operates that elevator. That's why I say it's possible he might know about it. Would you like to have me ask him? I wonder if you would, please. Surely it won't take but a minute, and I'll be right back. Thank you, Mrs. Higbee. Joe, you want to have a look over here? Yeah. What do you got? This wall bed here. I tried to pull it down. It's stuck. Stand right here. Over here. See if you notice anything. Yeah, I do. You want to give me a hand, see if we can't get the bed down? Yeah. Push in on your side. That's it. OK, it's coming down now. Good lord. Yeah. Tabor, you think? Oh, the description seems to fit. Beating to death looks like, doesn't it? Something's sticking out under the bed cover, is there? Yeah, it's a claw here. My stain's all over it. Vicious. Guess a killer wanted to make sure. It's one of the worst I've seen. Feel sorry for the sister. She was pretty close to him. It's going to be tough on her. No tougher than it was for him. 2.38 PM. We phoned the office, told them what we'd found, and then we put in a call for Lieutenant Lee Jones and the crime lab crew. While we were waiting, we questioned the landlady again, Mrs. Higbee. She said her house man, Sam, told her he knew nothing about a television set being moved out of Ralph Tabor's apartment. However, it was possible somebody could have taken the set down in the main elevator late at night without being seen. Mrs. Higbee also told us that Tabor had a car. We checked the apartment garage, but it was gone. All Mrs. Higbee could tell us was that it was a late model car, and that Tabor often loaned it to his friend, Andy Howard. Sergeant Sal Shambra and Joe LaMonica from homicide arrived, and together the four of us interviewed the employees and the tenants in the apartment building. They gave us little or nothing at all. A few minutes before 3 PM, the crime lab crew showed up and started their preliminary investigation. We put in a call for the coroner. From the obvious lack of fingerprints in usual places around the apartment, it was apparent that the murderer had taken great precautions to cover his tracks. 3.35 PM. The deputy coroner arrived, and after the preliminary investigation was finished, the body was removed to the county morgue. Ed and I went back to the office, checked our DMV, and got out on all points on Tabor's car, and also on the friend he was last seen with, Andy Howard. R and I turned up a single entry for Howard's criminal record, a drunk driving charge. 5.20 PM, we met with Edith Tabor and broke the news of her brother's death. When she recovered from the shock, we interviewed her briefly. It was Andy Howard. I know it was him it had to be. Why do you say that, Ms. Tabor? There's something about this man, Howard. You haven't told us? He's no good, Sergeant. He's no good at all. That's what I've been afraid of. I've been afraid of it right along. Well, just how do you mean, ma'am? He's no good. He's a tramp, a bum. Won't get a job. He's been living off my brother. He isn't normal. There's something wrong with him. Well, how is it your brother put up with him? I told you, he and Ralph were friends in the Navy. He did a big favor for Ralph once. He's been living off it ever since, taking his clothes, borrowing his car, money, never paying it back. Why do you think he killed your brother, Ms.? I just know it. That's all. He did it. He ever fight with your brother? Would you happen to know? Did he ever threaten him? They had a big fight one night, about two weeks ago, I think. Andy kept sponging until Ralph got good and sick of it, told Andy to go out and get a job. That's when the fight started. You saw it, did you? Ralph told me about it. Fist fight in the alley back of the apartment. Ralph knocked Andy down, and he said he'd never forget it. He'd pay Ralph back. Couple of days after that, my brother said the two of them made up. Everything was all right. Ralph should have known better. He should have known better. Just a few more questions, Ms. Taber. Can you tell us anything about Andy Howard's background, ways from whose friends are, places he usually goes? No. I didn't know much about him. He's from the South, I think, Alabama. Ralph's friends can tell you more about him than I can. All right. Had you heard anything lately about Howard planning to move out of his apartment? Nothing. When I heard that he did move and Ralph was missing, I knew something was wrong. That's why I called you. I only known before. Poor Ralph, if I only knew. I'll try to take it easy, ma'am. We'll arrange for a car to drive you home, all right? It's so hard to understand. It's hard for anyone to kill Ralph like that horrible. He was so good. He was my brother. Yes, ma'am. What do you say to a man who kills your brother? How do you understand him? What do you tell him? Well, I even try. What? Let the jury tell him. Before we had the victim's sister, Edith Tabor, driven to her home, we asked her about the television set in her brother's apartment, but she was unable to explain its absence. Burgary detail had already been notified about the case and the pawn shop detail alerted. An APB had been gotten out, containing a complete description of the TV set, along with the serial numbers. A few minutes after we got back from dinner that night, we had an answer on it. A pawn shop operator on West 7th Street called in with the information that he'd taken in a television set with identical description and serial numbers as that of Tabor's. Ed and I drove out to the pawn shop and checked the operator's buybook. The set had been pawned the day after the murder. The serial numbers and description matched in every detail. The description and signature of the man who pawned it matched perfectly with that of Ralph Tabor's friend, Andy Howard. The set was impounded, and just on a chance, we had Dean Bergman dusted for latent fingerprints. Dean? Oh, hi, Ed Friday. How are you making out, anyway? Not bad. Have a look here. I picked up four sets of prints of it all told. These here are the dead man's. These here, they belong to the pawn shop operator. These belong to his son, helps him in the shop. Guess this is the one you're looking for, two clean index prints. Do you classify them? Check them against prints from Andrew Howard's package. They match. When we checked in for work the following morning, we got the coroner's report on Ralph Tabor. The cause of death was listed as cerebral hemorrhage and multiple fractures of the skull caused by blows from a heavy blunt object. The other reports from the crime lab didn't give us much help. The better part of the next three days, Ed and I, along with Al Shambra and Joe LaMonica, held detailed interviews with the known friends and associates of the murder victim, Ralph Tabor, and the number one suspect, Andy Howard. The information we picked up was incorporated in a supplementary all points bulletin and gotten out immediately. We found out that Andy Howard had a sailor's uniform in his possession, and though unauthorized, he wore it frequently. It bore the insignia of a quartermaster first class on the sleeve. We also found out Howard had identical tattoos on each forearm, the picture of an unfurled American flag with a name Betty D below it. We had the city covered for the suspect. Four days passed, no trace of him. Saturday, November 24th. We got an urgent call from homicide commander, Lieutenant Mort Geer in San Diego. On the highway? When was that, Mark? I see. Hey, Joe, you got a pencil, eh? Yeah, here you go. Yeah, Mark, you're pretty sure, huh? Uh-huh. Oh, yeah, it seems to tie in all right. How's that? Well, I don't know for sure. We'll check with Captain Norman right now and let you know. Yeah, thanks, Mark. Goodbye. Good break. What do you have to say? One of their traffic men down there felt about the name of Jack Ladd stopped car on the highway, going out of town speeding. Cool. Well, that says a man answers Andy Howard's description perfectly, right down to the tattoo on the forearm. No doubt about the car the guy was driving was Tabor's description and license number. He even used Tabor's identification. Well, when did all this happen? The day after the murder. It held a man that didn't have the information at the time. That's a bum break. Which way was Howard going, they tell you? Yeah, into town. They figure he's still there someplace. What do you mean? He found the car an hour ago, abandoned. 10 minutes after the phone call from San Diego, Captain Norman checked back in at the office and Ed and I met with him. We told him about the information San Diego had phoned in and he gave Ed and I an immediate OK for the trip south. We went down to the garage, picked up a car, and six hours later, we checked in with Sergeant Russ Ormsby, San Diego homicide. What's this, another fishing trip or are we doing business this time? Great, it's all business Russ, Andy Howard thing. More gear around? No, I won't be back till later. I can brief you on it though. McGuire and I have been working it on this end. Well, how about Tabor's car? You still got it staked out? Yeah, no nibble jet. What do you figure, if nothing happens, pull it in tomorrow, process it for prints? Yeah. If you've had something warmer than that since more gear called you, it looks pretty good. Yeah, what do you got? Only came up with it a couple of hours ago. Field interrogation card made out last night, west end of town. Beat officer by the name of Driscoll, questioned a man and a girl parked in a car out that way last night. Here's a description of the man. Thanks, Russ. Yeah, it's powered all the way in here. Couldn't get much closer. They checked out the car they were in belongs to the girl. Yeah. Look here, Andy, still using Tabor's identification. Yeah. All right, where does it go from here, Russ? You got this Andy Howard spotted? No. Beat man, Driscoll, they didn't know the guy from Adam. Yeah, well, where's that lamest? The girl Howard was with. Driscoll knew her. We contacted the beat officer, Driscoll. The girl who'd been spotted sitting in a parked car the night before with murder suspect Andy Howard was identified as Helen McClung, a waitress in a downtown cocktail bar. A stakeout was placed in her apartment and she was brought in for interrogation. He's not a good friend of mine. I don't know where he lives. Don't know what he does. I had to even know him, Sergeant. You were out for a drive with him like before last night, right? Sure, I don't deny that. We went out for a ride. That's all there is to it. You sure you don't know where this man lives, Helen? Not exactly. No, he's staying at a hotel downtown, I think. We went for a ride and I dropped him off at the bus line. That's all there was to it. Do you expect to see him again? Do you have any dates with him in the next couple of days? No. Tell you the truth, I thought I had a date. It didn't work out. Nothing ever works out. Phone this morning called it off. You told you why? I gave some lame excuse. I found out the real reason, though. What's that, do you mind telling us? No, I don't mind. Got a date with my girlfriend instead, Claire Peterson. Burn me up a little, but I don't mind. Oh, where does your girlfriend live, Helen? You mean Claire? Out on Rose Avenue, 1500 Block. I'm not sure, though. Is he going to pick her up there? I guess so, why? When's the date for it, you know? Yeah, on my night. You are listening to Dragnet, authentic stories of your police force in action. Compare Fatima with your present king-size cigarette. Yes, compare Fatima with the king-size cigarette you are now smoking. 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. Friends, to show our confidence in Fatima, to convince you quickly, dramatically, that Fatima is the best of all king-size cigarettes, we make this money-back guarantee. 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 April 1st, 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. Monday, November 26, 10 AM. After checking your name through San Diego R&I, we finally located the address of the girl Claire Peterson, who was supposed to have a date with our murder suspect, Andy Howard, that night. She lived in a small apartment house in the southeast end of town. The manager told us that she'd already left for work. We ran it down. The Peterson girl was employed as a cutter in a shirt factory down in the industrial district. We questioned her at her work. A tall, attractive girl, blonde, blue eyes, a small scar on her chin. She kept working while we talked to her. Yeah, I have a date with Ralph Tabor tonight. Something the matter? Great so, Miss Peterson. The first place his name isn't Ralph Tabor. No, I'm sorry. You must be wrong, officer. I was out with him just last Monday. I know that's his name, son. Everything he has is cars, wallets, all his business papers. I bet you must have made a mistake. No, it's no mistake, man. We checked it out pretty thoroughly. We'd like to talk to you about it if we could, please. Well, there's not too much to tell. I just met him Monday night. He was with my girlfriend, Helen, who wanted to go out with me, so I made a date. I didn't think there was anything wrong. You said he's to meet you at your apartment, Miss Peterson. Do you give any specific time when he'd be there? Eight or eight-thirty, he said. Hey, what's wrong, you know? There's something wrong with the man I don't know, don't you think? We want him for questioning, ma'am. You any idea where he lives? No, no, I haven't. One of the hotels downtown, I think. Fifth Street or Sixth Street, I wouldn't know for sure. What do you want him? Can't you tell me, please? We believe he's committed a murder, Miss Peterson. Matter of fact, we're sure of it. What do you want me to do? He calls up before your date tonight. Don't do anything to discourage him. Tell him to meet you. He wants to postpone the date. Try and make him come tonight. Can't do that, try and find out where he's staying. Don't let him know we talk to you. Well, all right, I can try. You'll be there when it comes to my apartment, I mean. Yes, ma'am, we'll be there. You'll be protected all the way. Well, what do you do? Ma'am? What do you do? You say he's a murderer. He must be desperate. What do you do? How do you arrest him? Just choice, ma'am. Any way he wants it. As soon as we left the plant where the Peterson girl worked, we called Sergeant Tony McGuire at San Diego homicide detail, and he made arrangements for an immediate stake out at the girl's apartment. At 7 p.m., Ed and I, along with Russ Arms B. N. Tony McGuire, drove out to supplement the men on stake out at the girl's apartment. 8 o'clock, 9, 9.30, 10 p.m., still no sign of the suspect. At midnight, our relief team showed up, and we headed back for the office. When we got there, there was a bulletin from the highway patrol reporting that earlier that night, a man partially identified as Andy Howard had been seen heading north from San Diego on US Highway 101 toward Los Angeles. We got Captain Lerman on the phone, briefed him on the latest developments, and told him that photographs of the suspect had been distributed to all officers. The next 10 hours failed to turn up anything new. San Diego officers continued to cover their end. 11.15 p.m. the next day, we drove back to Los Angeles and reported in the homicide. There was a note in the book from Lerman asking us to check in early the following morning, so Ed and I signed out and went home to get some sleep. The next morning, 1.45 a.m. Hello, Friday talking. Oh yeah, Hawkins, what do you got? Well, what about identification? He checked that over? No, no. What about insignia? His rating? After I hung up, I phoned Ed, got him out of bed, and the two of us drove down to the office where we picked up the suspect and took him to the interrogation room. During the interrogation, we found a wallet concealed on his person. It contained a driver's license, credit card, and half a dozen other means of identification. All of them were made out to Ralph Tabor. After an hour of questioning, he'd still admit nothing. He sat hunched over in his chair, tearing an old envelope into small pieces and dropping them on the floor in front of him. This'll make the 10th time I told you. I don't know what happened to Ralph. I didn't take his car or his television set. I didn't leave the city. I wasn't in San Diego last week. Now, if you don't believe me, you'll prove I'm lying. We didn't pull you in on the guess, Andy. We'll prove it. You mind telling me how? We got three people on their way in here right now. Ralph Tabor's sister is landlady. A man by the name of Sims, pawn shop dealer. You mean anything to you? My word against theirs. Three to one, mister. I got the odds in our favor. Look, why don't we straighten this out once and for all? Do you think I killed my friend Ralph? Why? Explain it to me. Why should I kill him? Look, I wouldn't know, Andy. Maybe you'd like to tell us. His sister says he was pretty good to you. She was good to me. I guess she didn't tell you what I did for him overseas when we were in the Navy to get it. No, she didn't tell us. She wouldn't. Stupid woman. I haven't found one of them worth anything. Frustrated. She needs a husband. That's her trouble. She claims her brother was paying the bills for you, Andy. He gave you clothes, money, his car. She says you were living off of him. Well, honestly, woman, that's all the thanks I get for all I did for Ralph. I've owed a few dollars, you know. That's all. Kept throwing it up to me. Him and his sister, after all I did for him. What are you trying to say, Andy? Could have been different, Ralph and me. What do you want me to say? Did you kill him? Did you kill him, Andy? You can't explain it that way. It's not as simple as that. Didn't? No, it's all mixed up together. It's not as complicated, it's not simple at all. I mean, with your best friend, especially. It's more of a mistake. I mean, morally, I didn't mean to kill him. I just did. It's a mistake. Terrible mistake. I want to give us a statement hard. This is a matter of if we'll take it down. All right, in a minute. Just want to make sure you understand, I mean, about Ralph, all I did for him. Well, no gratitude, no gratitude at all. You blame me? I mean, after all I did for him, you blame me? Well, you should have remembered, Andy, about gratitude. Yeah? Doesn't mean much when you have to ask for it. The story you have just heard was true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On February 4th, 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. And now here is our star, Jack Webb. Thank you, George Fenerman. Friends, you've been listening to DragNet for the past 28 minutes. Now it'll take you less than 28 seconds to prove that Fatima is the best of all king-sized cigarettes. Just compare Fatima with a king-sized cigarette you're now smoking. Fatima filters the smoke through a long distance of 85 millimeters. Fatima's length cools the smoke for your protection. Fatima's length gives you those extra puffs, 21% longer than standard cigarette size. And in Fatima, you get an extra mild and soothing smoke, plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Prove it today. Bye, Fatima. Andrew Thomas Howard was tried and convicted of murder in the second degree. He is now serving his term in the state penitentiary San Quentin, California. Second-degree murder is punishable by imprisonment from five years to life. Ladies and gentlemen, right now inflation is America's number one menace on the home front. It's the one enemy that can lick America. We can help prevent this by working harder, working better. The fight against inflation will succeed only if all of us get behind it. 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. Heard tonight were Barney Phillips, Joyce McCluskey, and Virginia Gregg. Script by Jim Moser. Music by Walter Schumann. Hell, give me speaking. Fatima Cigarettes. Best of all, King-sized cigarettes has brought you Dragnet, transcribed from Los Angeles. Next, it's David Harding and Counter-Spy on NBC.