Ladies and gentlemen, for a more authentic presentation, portions of the program you
are about to hear were actually recorded on the scene.
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 robbery detail.
A gang of holdup men have been running loose in your city.
They've committed more than a dozen robberies.
They're heavily armed, quick to shoot.
Your job, stop them.
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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 from official police
files.
From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Dragnet is the story of your police force
in action.
Was Saturday, July 21st, was hot in Los Angeles.
We were working the night watch out of robbery detail.
My partner's Ben Romero, the boss is Thad Brown, chief of detectives.
My name's Friday.
I was on the way back from the record bureau and it was 6.55 p.m. when I got to room 27A.
Robbery detail.
Hi, Joey, ready?
Let's go.
What'll I dump this top coat?
It's too hot out tonight for that.
Yeah, the rest of the guys take off already?
Yeah, we better huddle.
How many men are working this thing?
I don't know.
How many men are working this thing tonight?
Must be at least 50, covering every drug store in the south central area.
Which one did we drop?
Naomi and South Alameda Rec Formation.
Yeah.
Apart from out across the street, we can cover the pharmacy from there.
We better check out of Thompson from the business office first, huh?
That's a good idea.
We might as well be ready.
They are.
Who got the tip the gang was moving into the south end of town?
Johnny Powers, one of his informants.
Okay, here we are.
The business office, Blair.
Yeah, I'll take care of it.
Thanks.
Hey, Barry, do you want to check out of Thompson for us?
Okay, funny.
Have you done any?
Yeah, kind of.
Here's a sign out book.
Thank you.
Hey, you might as well give us a shotgun while you're at it, Blair.
Okay.
Check these out for an hour.
Sounds like a busy night for you fellas.
Yeah, maybe.
Thompson's okay.
So the shotgun, want to sign up for the shotgun too, Joe?
Yeah.
Okay.
One Thompson, one machine gun, one shotgun.
You got those serial numbers there, Blair?
Yeah, Thompson 67811.
67811.
Yeah.
Shotgun 655228.
655228.
Okay.
Signed, Joe Brady, serial number 22.
What's your serial number, Ben?
2633.
Oh yeah, 2633.
Six shells for the shotgun, 50 shells for the Thompson, okay?
All right, I'll sign for them.
Okay.
Gang's pretty rough, I understand.
Gun heavy.
Yeah, that's what they tell us.
Okay, here's the book all signed.
Okay.
Here you go.
A lot of firepower there.
Yeah, hope you don't have to clean them when we bring them back.
We went down to the basement of the city hall, picked up our car, 80K, and drove out to Naomi
and South Alameda streets.
We located the parking lot and pulled in.
There were four other cars parked in the lot so we wouldn't be conspicuous.
Ben and I got in the back seat out of the light.
From our vantage point, we had a clear view of the entrance to the Rex Pharmacy across
the street.
We had the shotgun and the submachine gun on the seat beside us.
We listened to the calls coming in the radio and we waited.
13-J, stand by.
There's no cooler here than business offices.
Hot and sticky, huh?
Yeah.
Paper says it's going to be worse tomorrow.
Roll down your window, will you, and get some air in here.
Yeah, I'll do it.
The pharmacy isn't doing much business.
Not more than a dozen people in there in the last hour.
No soda fountain again.
Sure is hot.
You have to talk about it, huh?
I need help.
What time you got?
Ten minutes to ten.
No smoke?
No, Hank.
Yeah, I'll get it.
That gang's going to show up here.
Wish they'd get it over with.
The fellas might have got a bum tip.
Well, the gang hasn't missed a weekend for two months.
I wonder how much time the average cop's been waiting.
I don't know.
Put it all together and make a fine vacation.
What do we do?
Sit this out till the pharmacy closes?
Yeah, at two a.m.
Oh, it's hot.
Yeah.
Midnight came and passed.
The traffic on South Alameda thinned out.
Only an occasional customer entered the pharmacy across the street.
Ben kept complaining about the heat.
We waited.
Well, that's it, Joe.
Air go the latch.
Drugstore's closing.
Yeah, the guy's locking the doors.
There he goes.
We might as well shove off, too.
Yeah.
Let's get in the front seat.
There's not much call for this shotgun tonight.
I was checking it in.
Same duty to mine, eh?
Mm-hmm.
Attention all units.
All units in the vicinity of 8th Hill on the corner of Hill and Geneva Alley.
The 211 shooting, row three.
Hit the light.
Yeah, come on.
Let's roll.
Sunday, July 22nd, 2 15 a.m.
Ben and I pulled up with the Merchant Security Trust Company on the corner of South Hill and Geneva Alley.
Two patrol cars were already on the scene and four uniformed officers were trying to keep back a crowd of people who had gathered at the top of a flat of marble stairs which led off the street down one flight to the bank's night depository.
At the bottom of the stairs, an elderly man was sprawled out face down, his right arm twisted under him.
The man was dead.
Ben counted five bullet wounds in the victim's back.
We interviewed the only witness, a young sailor.
My name's Vasey, Sergeant.
Don Vasey, quartermaster, second class.
Here's my ID card.
You saw the shooting, Vasey?
I was about a half a block away.
I just came out of the bar down the street there, the top hat.
Yeah?
Had a couple of beers.
Then I left and I started walking back to the hotel.
When was that?
About five after two.
Go on.
Well, before I got to the corner, I saw this man ahead of me.
He crossed the street and headed over for the bank.
Then this car pulled up and some guys got off.
They ran over to the man and it looked like they were frisking him.
Yeah?
All of a sudden I heard shots.
The man ran for the stairs here and it looked like he stumbled and fell.
I went to the car and I saw a bunch of guys jump back in the car and drove away.
What'd you do then?
I ran up to see what I could do for the old man.
He was lying down there where he is now.
Nothing I could do for him.
I yelled for a cop.
Did you get a look at the man in that car?
No, I just saw him from a distance.
Four of them, maybe five.
What about the car?
Did you see the license number?
The last couple of numbers, that's all.
699.
Couldn't see the rest.
What was it, a coupe or a sedan?
A sedan, maroon color.
It was a Pontiac, either a 1940 or 41.
Are you sure about that?
I saw it when I went back in Delaware, 1940 model.
I sold it to my brother when I went in the Navy.
I'm sure all right.
And you're sure about the number of men in the car?
Oh yes, sir, four or five, no more.
I see, thanks.
Well, will you drive back to the office with us and give us a full statement?
Sure, Sergeant, anything you say.
You can wait in the car, Vasey.
We won't be long.
Sure.
Well, what do you think?
I don't know.
Drugstore gang?
Said there were four guys, could be.
No description.
Maroon car, three numbers off the license plate.
Pretty thin.
Yeah, looks like a hard summer.
We completed our preliminary investigation.
The coroner arrived and the body was taken to the County morgue in the basement of the Hall of Justice.
The victim was identified as Walter Conroy, the proprietor of the Flowerland Dance Hall on South Hill Street.
Together with officers Fremont and Hurst from Homicide,
Ben and I spent most of Sunday tracking down employees of the dance hall and interviewing them.
We sent a rushed teletype to the Department of Motor Vehicles in Sacramento containing the partial license number
plus our scanned information on the car which the suspects drove.
Early Monday afternoon, Ben and I, along with Captain Ed Walker of Robbery Detail, met with Chief of Detective Stad Brown.
What kind of a motive are you working on?
Robbery.
The dance hall manager, Conroy, was on his way to the bank's knife depository when this bunch caught up with him.
He had the knife's receipts with him from the dance hall.
How much they got, Walker?
Three hundred and fifty dollars. They missed over a thousand Conroy had in an inside pocket.
No idea who pulled the sticker?
Could have been that drugstore gang.
Why them?
They haven't missed working a weekend night for two months. There's no sign of any other job that they might have pulled Saturday.
Just a hunch, Chief.
Nothing to go on. We'll have to guess our way for a while.
Sacramento check in the description of the car. The numbers on the license plate?
Yeah. I ought to have an answer this afternoon.
Any leads on the drugstore gang at all?
Plenty. None of them good.
Suspects are loaded down with guns. That's all we know.
Excuse me.
Brown speaking.
Just a minute. Friday's for you.
Thanks.
I'll reach it over here.
Friday.
Yeah, Ralph.
How many?
Yeah.
Okay. Thank you.
I got an answer from DMV Sacramento about the holdup car.
What'd they say, Joe?
Well, they looked up the possible combinations of 1940 or 41 Pontiac sedans with the numbers 699 on the license plate.
Yeah?
123 possibles to check.
Not much choice.
No car of that description on the hot list. The killer might be the legal owners.
123. Well, even after we check them, we still might not have the right party.
That's right. If you got a better lead, we'll work on it.
Nope.
Well, then ride this till it falls apart.
For the next 13 days, Ben and I, Fremont and Hurst from homicide, plus a half a dozen other men, hacked away at the list of 123 car registrations,
any one of which could have been issued to the holdup car.
The color of the sedan didn't help us much to start with since California vehicle registrations do not include the colors of the cars.
After 14 days of gradual elimination of possibles, the field was narrowed to six, then four, then two.
August 6th, Monday, 5.30 p.m., Ben and I were called to Thad Brown's office.
Gentlemen, you check out that last possible yet?
About 20 minutes ago. It didn't pan out.
What about Hurst and Fremont? They had one left.
Right here. Could be the answer.
Yeah.
1940 Pontiac sedan, license number 4XA699. Last registration, San Diego.
Sounds good.
We tell it to have to San Diego police. They say the car's been sold to a woman out in Santa Monica.
Anyone checked her?
No, that's what I want you two for.
San Diego and Santa Monica. Well, it's in the right area.
Can't afford to miss now. Hope it's the right one.
Well, it's gotta be. Check it.
Ben and I checked the woman in Santa Monica, Mrs. Fielding. She told us that she had sold the car six months before to a friend who lived in Bakersfield.
We contacted her friend. He told us the car had been traded in by him to an auto dealer in Pasadena.
We checked the dealer. He said the car had been sold off his used car lot two months before.
The new buyer had given his name as Amo Thurston. Two names were given as reference, Lloyd Newton and John Lacombe.
We ran a routine check through the record bureau.
Random through, fellas. Here's the packages.
Here to make, point?
On all three.
What'd you find on Thurston?
Let's see. Thurston, two-time loser, second time up to Q-15 counts of armed robbery. On parole from Quentin now.
How about the other two?
Well, Lacombe, let's see. Preston Reformatory, two terms, went up three years ago, violation of the Dyer Act. He's on parole, too.
What about Newton? Did you make him?
Uh, two terms in Oklahoma. They're looking for him now at young parole.
Can I look at that just a minute, Frank?
Sure.
So I have all three of them. Take a look, Ben. Each one of the mama sheets on these three guys.
Yeah.
Right here under General Amo. See?
Mm-hmm. Thurston, heavily armed at time of arrest.
Yeah. This one, Lacombe.
Right.
Heavily armed.
This one on Newton. Same thing.
Good and happy.
Yeah. Come on.
At the time he purchased the car, suspect Amo Thurston listed his home address as 1517 North Hoover Avenue.
Previous robbery victims positively identified Thurston and his companions.
At 1517 North Hoover, the landlady also identified Thurston and his companions as tenants.
She told us they drove a red sedan and they parked the car at a Temple Street garage.
An immediate stakeout was placed on the apartment house, and we started the canvas of Temple Street garages from Hoover Avenue down to Rampart Boulevard.
At 4 p.m., Ben spotted the car in Donnelly's garage on Temple Street near Michigan Drive.
The garage attendant told us that the owner of the car had given his name as Amo Thurston. We showed him the mug shots.
Yeah. Used to park his car in here a while back.
Then he came in yesterday morning with these two guys and said he wanted a paint job.
Hmm. Doesn't look like he needs a paint job to me.
They offered me 20 bucks extra if I do it in a hurry. He wants the car painted green.
When's he gonna call for the car?
About 10 o'clock tonight. These jobs take time. He's not gonna like it if the car's not finished.
He won't like it if it is. Come on, Ben.
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7 p.m. Tuesday, August 7th.
Chief of Detective Stad Brown and Captain Ed Walker swung the entire robbery detail into action.
The stakeout at the apartment house on North Hoover continued.
An additional detail of men was stationed in a vacant store on Temple Street directly opposite Donnelly's Garage.
Donnelly's Garage was a small family outfit and the only spot from which we could cover it thoroughly without being seen was from a large paint locker set up against the right wall.
The garage man cleared enough room so that Ben and I could fit into the locker in a half stoop position.
Two small latches were rigged up so that we could pull the doors closed from the inside.
Four ventilation holes at the top and bottom of the doors provided us with peep holes.
At eight o'clock that night, Ben and I took our places inside the locker.
The trap was set. We waited.
Can you see all right, Joe?
Yeah.
It's hot in here. Stale air.
It's a tight fit. I'm getting a clamp on my shoulder.
What time did that garage man say he closed?
Eleven o'clock.
Lousy paint smell.
Stuffy.
Hey, that car pulling in. Can you see the driver?
Wait a minute.
It's nothing. Somebody getting gas.
I hope they show up. I wouldn't want this to go on another night.
Well, don't count on it.
What's going to sleep?
Why don't you stand still? What time you got?
Let me see. Get the light on in here. Ten minutes to nine.
Thanks.
The popular conception of the working detective really includes a glimpse of his everyday run-of-the-mill duties.
Filling out forms, conducting interviews, or waiting long, monotonous hours parked in a car,
or standing half-cropped in a garage paint locker.
It's slow, dull, and tedious, and it's 95 percent of the police officer's job.
By ten o'clock that night, there was still no sign of Thurston and his friends.
The cramped locker got more cramped with the passing minutes.
The air was thick with paint fumes. We waited.
At ten fifty-five, a taxi pulled to a stop in front of the garage.
Three men got out.
Can you see them, Joe?
Wait until they step into the light. There's another guy still in the cab.
Here they come.
There's the first guy.
Yeah, it's Thurston.
The fourth guy's getting out of the cab.
That looks like Newton, doesn't it?
That's him.
Yeah, it's Lecombe right behind. Fat guy. Here they come.
Sure do look the boy.
Unlatch your door, but don't open it.
Yeah.
Quiet, Ben. What's the matter?
Matt, you're stuck. Wait a minute.
Did you get it?
No, it's really stuck.
I might tap it with your gun stock. Come on, easy.
There. There it is. It's loose.
Good. Can you see where they are now?
Yeah. Talking to the garage man.
I'm looking this way.
Oh, they just stay that way, huh? You ready?
Okay.
Don't tip them off till we're right on top of them. Let them get away from that garage man, huh?
Right.
All right. Let's go.
Approximately 25 or 30 yards separated us from the suspects.
I glanced across Temple Street at the vacant store where Thad Brown and the other men were staked out.
25 yards is a long way to walk when you're approaching a murderer,
and you know that he won't hesitate to kill you in order to escape.
Ben flipped the safety off the machine gun.
We were almost halfway across the garage, 15 yards away.
Thurston turned and saw us.
Look out, Joe!
We got one up.
The guy behind the car went up the stairs. Three of them.
Come on.
Ready. Where'd they go?
Up the stairs.
Go, Ben!
After them, they'll turn to the building.
Hurry!
Up this way, Joe.
Yeah. Watch it, Ben. Get up.
They're somewhere back in that corner up there.
You're trapped. Go on. You're certain.
All right, Ben, give it up.
One, two, three, four.
Put on your guns. Throw them down.
There's three of them.
Six of them.
All right, now come on down with your hands behind your head.
Cover me, Ben. I'll frisk them.
Right. You, up on the end. Get your hands back in your head.
All right, stand still.
All right, next one.
Go on.
Clean.
All right.
Look home.
Watch him, Joe.
Rest of you, stand back. Give me a hand.
You all right, Joe?
Yeah. Two more guns on him.
All right, you two, hold it.
Here comes the chief.
Yeah.
I'll get these guns together.
Look home. He's not much of a fighter.
Not without a gun.
The suspects were booked at different divisions to keep them separated.
Amel Thurston and Lloyd Newton were taken to Hollenbeck Park and booked on suspicion of armed robbery and murder.
John LeCombe was booked at Highland Park Jail on the same charges.
The other suspect, who had been wounded in the escape attempt, was identified as Harold Steeves, 19 years old.
He was treated for a leg wound at Georgia Street Receiving Hospital and then transferred to the prison ward at the county hospital.
During the next two days, each of the suspects was questioned individually.
Thurston, LeCombe, Newton would admit nothing.
The 19-year-old Steeves broke down and agreed to turn state's evidence.
We took your statement to Chief of Detective Stad Brown.
Gentlemen, what did the boy tell you?
Just about everything, boss.
They pulled the drugstore holdups and they killed that dance hall owner, Walter Conroy.
Which one of them?
Well, the kid says Thurston shot him. He says Thurston's the gang leader.
Good. You finally got a count on those guns you took off them?
Yeah, 12 of them. Each one of them was ready to go bulletin every chamber.
Did you get a complaint from the DA's office yet?
They were writing preliminary games set for Monday.
Fine. You got them in jail, now put them in prison.
The apprehension of the criminal doesn't mean the end of a case for a police officer.
He spends just as much time helping to convict the criminal after he's caught.
Evidence must be gathered and authenticated and presented to the district attorney's office.
If confessions are possible, they must be obtained and put in order.
The officer must also help out in formulating the case and in testifying at the trial of the suspect.
On October 30th, almost three months after the Thurston gang was apprehended,
they were brought to trial in Superior Court. It was a routine affair.
Harold Steeves took the stand and told the story of the gang's activities.
The victims identified the suspects and testified to the robberies.
Both Ben and I took the stand and testified to the arrest and possession of guns by the defendants.
We received no cross-examination.
On the morning of March 2nd, the case went to the jury.
Ben and I had lunch with Lieutenant Rambo from robbery in the City Hall cafeteria,
and it was five minutes past one when we got back to the jury.
It was five minutes past one when we got back to the office.
Oh, it sure was good soup today. It was a nice lunch.
You want to check the mail?
I didn't yet.
I'll get it.
Robbery Friday.
Yeah? When?
Right. LaComa and Thurston had just broke jail.
Within seven minutes, a dragnet for the escaped criminals had been thrown around the entire city.
Chiba Detective Stad Brown directed the operation.
At 14 minutes past one, he called us to the photocopy room.
The machines were turning out duplicate mugshots of Thurston and LaComa for distribution at the rate of one every four seconds.
You want us to stand by, Chief?
For the moment, yeah. We got all the help we need on the street.
How'd they pull the break anyway?
Slugged the deputy when he brought in their lunch.
Used a steel leg from one of the benches in the prisoner's tank.
Yeah?
And they beat the deputy right into the ground, but he held on to Newton. He didn't get away.
How'd Thurston and LaComa ever get out of the building?
He's a real freak.
They slugged the elevator man and got down to the basement.
Uh-huh.
The right-hand ambulance crew was wheeling a body in the morgue.
The attendant left the ignition keys in the ambulance.
Shouldn't be too rough to track them if they're in an ambulance.
Tougher than you think.
Honda's copy's coming, Frank.
Fast as we can make them, Chief. Have another batch for you in a minute.
You had any reports at all yet, boss?
Couple. They're moving fast.
Frank, you want to get that? I can't see in this dark room.
I can't see it.
Yeah?
Chief Brown in there?
Yeah, come on in.
Now, Walker, what do you got?
A killer dryer, wasn't it?
Oh, yeah.
Now, what do you got?
Gas station out on Sunset.
LaComa and Thurston just held it up.
We picked up our car in the City Hall garage and drove out to the service station on the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Lorraine Drive.
Detective Ruiz and Stormwall from robbery were already on the scene.
The two escapees had abandoned the ambulance there, robbed the station of $56 in currency, and stolen a 1938 Grey Packard Coupe, license number 7-ROB-6336.
We left the station and started to cruise the area. It was 1.55 p.m.
Attention all units, attention all units.
Get it up, Joe.
6380 North Sunset, a 211 in progress.
6380 North Sunset, a 211 in progress. Code 3.
This is a 61-100 truck.
Yeah, come on.
6380 North Sunset.
There's the lurker.
Maybe.
Push it.
Hey, that car pulling out up ahead there.
A Grey Coupe.
Wait a minute.
7-ROB-7.
That's them.
Life's changing.
They can't make it.
They're going through.
They're skidding.
They hit the lamppost.
Broke it off.
All right, pull up.
Come on.
All right.
All right, let's go.
Knock your failure through this one.
Yeah.
Come on, help me with this door.
Yeah.
All right.
Pull.
All right.
I'll get you.
I'll get Lecombe.
You look okay.
Yeah.
Get Thurston out of here.
All right.
Come on, you.
Come on.
All right, Lecombe, come on.
Oh, sure you will.
Come on.
All right, don't try to walk.
How's Thurston, Ben?
Seems okay.
A couple of scratches.
All right, sit down over there.
Lecombe, slug the guard.
That's funny.
They don't look great, do they?
They can't play their part.
They haven't got their guns.
The story you have just heard was true.
Only the names were changed to protect the innocent.
On March 3, 1947, trial was held in Superior Court, Department 91, City and County of Los
Angeles, State of California.
In a moment, the results of that trial.
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New York Division.
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Chicago Division.
Fatima sales up 453 percent.
Los Angeles Division.
Fatima sales up 545 percent.
Yes, in 1949, more and more smokers discovered that Fatima is the best of all long cigarettes.
They found Fatima extra mild.
They found Fatima has a much different, much better flavor.
They found the name Fatima means the best in cigarette quality.
In 1950, enjoy Fatima yourself.
Best of all long cigarettes.
Amal Thurston, John Lecombe, and Lloyd Newton were convicted of first degree murder and
robbery and sentenced to life terms.
For turning state's evidence, 19-year-old Harold Steves received special consideration.
As a result of the jailbreak, Thurston and Lecombe were convicted of assault and escape.
They are now serving life terms in the state penitentiary.
You have just heard Dragnet, a new series of authentic cases from official files.
Technical advice for Dragnet comes from the Office of Acting Chief of Police, W.A. Wharton,
Los Angeles Police Department.
Dragnet honors the city of Pasadena, state of California, and the men who make up the
Pasadena Police Force, another of America's great law enforcement agencies.
One of these men, Chief of Police Clarence H. Morris, traffic specialist and veteran
police administrator, dedicates his life to making yours more secure.
The Timah cigarettes, the best of all long cigarettes, has brought you Dragnet, portion
transcribed from Los Angeles.
Be sure to hear songs by Morton Downey tonight on NBC.