The story you're about to hear is true.
Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
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You're a detective sergeant.
You're assigned to homicide detail.
Attempts have been made on the life of a notorious hoodlum in your city.
His death could mean an open gang war.
Your job, stop it.
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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.
It was Tuesday, July 18th.
It was hot in Los Angeles.
We were working the night watch out of homicide detail.
My partner is Ben Romero, the boss is Thad Brown, chief of detectives.
My name is Friday.
It was 5.35 p.m. when we got out of the car at Sunset Boulevard in Paris Avenue and walked
down the street to the scene of the machine gunning.
The Loupos Cafe.
Look at that, Joe.
Yeah.
Lift up the whole front of the place.
Hi.
Yes, sir.
Romero and Friday, homicide.
Oh, I'm Sheldon from Hollywood Division.
Taylor and I picked up the call in our car.
Nobody hurt.
What's the story?
Just a second.
It's Captain Elliott holding them at Wees, Sheldon.
Hi.
Hi, Captain.
Number one.
Not much of it left.
Sheldon here was in the cruiser car.
He'll fill us in.
All right.
The intended victim was Gus Valentine.
He's over there with Taylor, my partner.
Yeah.
According to Valentine, he stopped in the restaurant here for a drink.
He was in there about 15 minutes, came out to hail a cab, and this car came around the
corner.
Down there, Sunset and Clayton.
They whipped by close to the curb and opened up.
They had the laundry there on one side of the place and a dry cleaning joint on the
other side.
Yes, sir.
A miracle, but nobody was hit.
Did you get anything on the car?
Nothing so far happened so fast, nobody got a good look at it.
How about Valentine?
Does he have any ideas?
I don't know.
Taylor's getting the information.
Nobody saw anything?
Any witnesses?
Yes, sir.
A couple.
A newsboy, Tim Benson, the lady in the dry cleaning place, Agnes Rebart.
Neither of them got a license number.
Okay.
I'd like to talk to Valentine.
If you shout and keep the area clear, will you?
The lab men are on their way out.
Yes, sir.
Come on.
I told you I had no idea.
Green Fort Sedoon, is that it?
Yes.
Elliott Central Homicide.
Yes, sir.
This is Mr. Valentine, the intended victim.
Yes.
This is Sergeant Friday, Sergeant Romero.
Sergeant Friday, how are you?
Fine.
It's been a long time.
Finally got out of the uniform, huh?
Seven years ago.
Who was it, Gus?
If I knew, I'd tell you, I don't like being shot at.
Let's go sit in the car.
This way, Valentine.
You want to get in back?
All right.
What's the story, Valentine?
How do you mean?
Let's not play it cozy.
Who's after you?
You suppose this would have happened if I knew?
Who's carrying the beef?
Somebody's unhappy with you.
You must know who.
I don't.
You know what kind of a car it was?
The other cop over there, Sedan, Green Ford.
We're not going to press you, Valentine.
You might as well know how we peg this kind of thing.
Yeah?
We got your number, had it for a long time.
You're all up and down the blotter from Lincoln Heights to the county jail.
You got a record everybody in this town knows about.
Aren't you a little mixed up?
I'm the guy that got shot at.
We know that.
I pay my taxes for protection, not a lecture on my past.
Let me give you the word, Valentine.
I've known you for a long time, and I've read about you in the newspapers.
I've watched your so-called climb from two-bit penny-ante rackets all the way up.
You've been told more than once about keeping your nose clean.
This is a switch, isn't it?
Man gets shot at, cops read riot act, innocent victim.
Look, we know you and we know that crowd you run with.
If you want to start a war around a battlefield, don't pick the streets of Los Angeles to fight
it out.
I don't think I asked for it the way you men talk.
You did somewhere up and down the line.
We know your operation.
You walked the sideline marker all the way.
Always got one foot inside the law.
When you make yourself a target for some punk's machine gun, that's where you step outside.
What are you going to do, eat me out and let the man with the machine gun get away?
We'll get him, whether you want to help us or not.
We just don't have the time to run around jamming a cork in the barrel of every gun in town.
Before you get out of this car, let this sink in.
There's not going to be any innocent people cut down by bullets that were meant for you.
Oh, I get it.
My tax money's no good, huh?
I pay a bigger chunk than most of the clods in this town.
You haven't got a clear title to the city yet, and until you do, don't set up a shooting
gun.
What do I do, dig a foxhole until you get ready to tap whoever's taking pot shots at me?
You can tell us who it is.
You got all I know.
Don't you think I'd want them picked up?
I think you're a liar.
I think you'd better square your beef and knock off this gangster stuff.
There's not going to be any more of this kind of thing, understand?
Almost without exception, every city in the United States says it's Gus Valentine.
These men remain out of custody, not because of any lack of law enforcement, but because
of their ability to hide behind the laws which are designed to protect the innocent and use
them to their own advantage.
They operate allowing only the thinnest margin possible between themselves and the state
penitentiary.
We drove back to central division.
At 6.18 p.m., we were called to the chief of detective's office.
They wouldn't give you anything, huh?
Not a thing.
Usual line of smart talk.
Whoever after him meant business on storefronts were a mess.
Well, they won't quit now.
Just a minute.
What's that intelligence number?
2821.
Oh, yeah.
Mr. Brown, Captain White gone home?
I know.
Ask him to come up to the office.
Will you please?
Thanks.
If they do manage to tag Valentine, it could cause a pretty sour mess.
He's got enough flunkies around to parlay it into a fair-sized shooting war.
Seem to have started on less.
Was there any chance of pulling Valentine in until things simmer down?
No chance.
We've got nothing on him.
Nothing we can prove.
He's got a few boys close to him.
Maybe one of them could tell her.
Same two lawyers work for all of them.
If we pull him in, they'd be out in an hour on a writ.
You want to see me?
Yeah, why?
Sit down.
Let Valentine's shooting this afternoon.
Yeah.
What's your guess?
There's been some talk.
We heard he was hot.
You knew that.
Yeah.
The way we figured, he's getting too big for his pants.
He's coming up fast.
Stepped on a lot of toes on the way.
Shouldn't be too tough to find out why.
That's half of it.
If we get that much, maybe we can find out who.
You got a big field to pick from.
I can find you a dozen possibles.
We don't need a dozen.
All we want are the ones in that car this afternoon.
Who do you figure, Captain Hoy?
I kind of go along with Joe.
Like I said, I think maybe we'll be able to peg why a little faster.
And we can go from there.
All right.
Let's take what we know about the guy.
Let's just take this past year.
We know he's got more than a good share of the Mexican narcotics traffic.
That means he's taking business from the Eastern Syndicate.
That makes one of those boys a candidate.
That's right.
And there's the pinball machines.
He's giving Big Ernie Jacobs and Monk Watson a big push on those.
And put Simon to running.
That's a long list.
The horses, fancy poker games, prostitution, the works.
He's squeezing them all.
A lot of guys could be shooting at him with a machine gun.
Where do we start?
Legwork.
Lots of it.
Fast.
We'll start nosing around, see what we can pick up.
Friday, you and Romero can give us a hand there.
Yes, sir.
All right with you, L.E.?
Fine.
I don't have to tell you we've got to move as quick as we can.
We've got a lot of places to hit and we haven't got too much time.
We'll keep Valentine under surveillance to make sure he doesn't try to square things
with a gun.
Yeah.
This is one the taxpayers wouldn't understand.
Yeah.
Trying to keep a guy alive that'd be more dangerous dead.
Wednesday, July 19th, Ben and I started making the rounds to find out why someone was out
to get Gus Valentine.
Captain was right.
The list of his enemies was long.
For two days, we talked to gamblers and bartenders at the usual hangouts.
The few slim leads we picked up led nowhere.
Saturday, July 22nd, we met with one of Ben's informants, a bar boy at a cafe out on Santa
Monica Boulevard.
That's him over there.
At that table.
Oh, yeah.
Yuri, how are you?
Hiya, Ben.
Grab a chair.
You know my partner, don't you?
Sure.
Sit down, Joe.
Hi.
Want a beer?
No, no thanks.
We're working.
Coke?
Okay.
One more.
Here you go.
It's good and cold.
Doctor cut me down one beer a day.
It's a spot on a hot date, huh?
Yeah.
What about Valentine?
What about him?
You hear anything since I phoned you?
A couple of things.
Word's getting around he's a Welcher.
Horses?
I don't know.
Big money.
He hasn't paid off yet.
Who does he owe?
I can give you the name of one of them, Sal Tapper.
I don't know him.
Meat packing business, wholesaler.
Got a big plant down at 54th and commercial.
Owns a little neighborhood bar.
That's where he spends most of his time.
Where's that?
Gardena.
Calls it the Mile High.
What about this Sal Tapper?
What do you mean?
How close is he to Valentine?
You mean one of his boys?
Yeah.
No.
Valentine's his book, that's all.
Supposing Valentine owed him a wad of dough, would he push his points?
How do you mean?
Would he use pressure to collect?
Maybe a meat cleaver, not a machine gun.
I don't figure him in on that Tuesday caper.
Sure you don't want this set of coke?
No, thank you.
What time you go to work?
Plenty of time.
One bottle of beer ain't hardly enough.
Any rumbles about the shooting?
How do you mean?
Anything worth repeating?
Everybody says the same thing.
He's got it coming.
Who is everybody?
The homeowners, neighborhood Joe's.
They got it all pegged.
What's the popular guess?
The name.
Well, that's about it, huh, Jerry?
That's about it.
What's your guess?
Fresh out, I don't know.
How come you guys are so worried about Gus Valentine?
I didn't think you cared whether he lived or died.
Either way, we're in trouble.
We left the cafe on Santa Monica Boulevard and drove out to Gardena to the Mile High Bar.
It was a typical neighborhood tavern with the windows painted in black
except for two small ovals in the center of each window.
They were filled with beer signs and red neon.
The cloth sign advertised shuffleboard and life-size television.
Inside, the walls were covered with alpine mountain climbers
trying to fight their way up a mountain that looked twice as steep as the Matterhorn.
Give me ten nickels, will you, Lin?
Can you tell us where we can find a solid tapper?
Yeah, I'm in.
Thanks, Lin.
What do you want?
Police officers.
I'd like to talk to you.
Sure, what about?
Gus Valentine.
Yeah?
He owes me money.
Is that all you've got against him?
As much as he owes me, that's enough.
This is a real tough machine to me.
How much money does he owe you?
Enough.
How long has he been booking for you?
I didn't say he was booking for me.
No, we did.
About two years.
Come on.
Hit it.
Four thousand on the first ball.
I gotta do better than that.
Where were you Tuesday afternoon?
At the packing house.
Can you prove it?
What I said, if I couldn't prove it...
When that little gate up there,
turns green and you go through it,
you get an extra ball.
If it's red, it doubles your score,
but it's real tough to get in there.
How long has Valentine owed you money?
All a little over a week.
When did he say he'd pay you?
He didn't say.
Said he was trying to raise the dog.
You're the only one he owes?
No.
There's a couple more guys in town.
Remember who they are?
No.
How do you know he owes somebody besides you?
I heard.
Did he say why he hasn't paid up?
What'd you say?
Did he say why he hasn't paid up?
I told you, he said he was trying to raise the money.
You sure you haven't tried to put the bite on him?
Sure I have. Sure I have.
I want the dog.
But I didn't gun him.
Somebody did?
Yeah, I know. I know. It wasn't me.
You had a reason.
I sold a lot of people.
Yeah.
We're looking for the one with the machine gun.
Well, I can't help you there.
Come on.
Get in there.
Hey. Hey, look at that. Free ball.
26,000. That's a real tough machine to beat.
And where did you say you worked usually?
At my packing plant, 54th and commercial.
Okay.
How long have you known Gus Valancey?
About four years. I met him at a party out in Hollywood.
It's the first time I've ever known him to Welch.
Mm-hmm.
In there.
Now.
Ah. 27,000.
I'm not doing so good, am I?
I don't know. It depends on where you were Tuesday.
12.30 p.m. We talked with the superintendent of Tapper's Meatpacking House.
He told us that Saul Tapper had been there all day when Gus Valentine was shot at.
We talked to several employees of the plant. They corroborated his story.
We checked Tapper out and found him to be a fairly respectable businessman
who gambled a great deal on the side, but we felt reasonably sure that he had no part in the shooting.
We knew that if we could run down the others to whom Valentine owed money,
we'd be closer to finding out why he was being shot at and eventually get to the right man.
1.45 p.m. Ben and I went upstairs to the eighth floor of the City Hall, the lunch room.
We had a sandwich and coffee.
Too close to dinner to have a piece of that pie, isn't it?
Yeah, I'd say so. Hand me another napkin, will you?
Yeah. Here.
Thank you.
Think you'd do any good to talk to Valentine again?
Maybe. I doubt it. He's not gonna tell us anything.
I figure we're on the right track.
A lot of reasons why he might be a target, but this welching business, that's new to him.
Could be.
You Sergeant Friday?
That's right.
Telephone.
Wait a minute. I'll go with you. I'm finished.
No, you got the check. I'll get the tip.
All right.
Slide that phone over the way.
Oh, yeah.
Thank you.
Friday.
Come down to Chief Brown's office right away.
Yes, sir.
Let's go.
That pie sure did look good.
Come on, let's get that over here.
Yeah.
Hey, who called?
It was the skipper. He wants us to go to Chief Brown's office.
Temple Street floor, please.
What's up?
I don't know.
You make the runs again tonight?
Yeah. A couple places we can hit in the south end of town.
I called Charlie Flint's place this afternoon. Maybe he'll have something for us.
Yeah, I hope so.
Come on.
Wish now I'd had that pie. I'm still hungry.
I got a candy bar in my desk. You can have that.
I can't eat those chewy bars. It'll eat.
Oh, it's some kind of a fudge bar.
Oh, come on.
Come in.
Yes, sir.
Get over to Georgia Street right away.
Why?
That's Valentine. They did it again.
Yeah.
This time they didn't miss.
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Saturday, July 22nd, 5.30 p.m.
We drove to the Georgia Street Receiving Hospital and went up to the third floor.
We talked to the doctor in charge who told us that two slugs had been taken from Gus Valentine's right leg
and one from his right shoulder.
They had been marked for identification.
He was in fair condition.
We talked with the patrolman who made the ambulance follow up.
They told us Valentine had been shot as he entered his apartment house garage.
There were no eye witnesses.
We went in and talked to Valentine.
You told the officers that the guy who shot you was on foot.
Yeah.
Who was it?
Couldn't tell.
You haven't any idea who it could have been?
No.
You don't expect us to swallow that again, do you?
I don't care either way.
Why don't you pay up what you owe?
What do you mean?
You owe some big money.
You haven't paid off.
Where'd you get that?
That's the word going around.
Looks to us like you either pay up or get shot up.
Did I ask for advice?
No, and here's something else you didn't ask for.
Twice in one week you've been mixed up in shooting scrapes.
We told you the city doesn't belong to you.
I don't claim ownership.
Now listen, we've been over this before and this is the last time.
Don't push us any courage.
We know you talk big and you haven't got the guts to go along with it.
Yeah, sure.
Now come on, who's shooting at you?
I know your phone number.
I'll call you if I need help.
I'll take care of this myself.
Valentine, the first time you pull a cap gun, we're going to sit on you.
If there's any retaliating, we'll do it.
I'm tired of sitting like a duck on a pond.
Then tell us who's gunning for you.
That's between me and them.
I'll meet them when I'm ready.
All right.
We're through talking.
When we get to the bottom of this and find out who's been doing all the shooting, we'll have an answer.
And if we find out you've been withholding evidence, it's going to go hard for you, understand?
Yeah, sure.
Now leave me alone.
Come on, here.
Yeah.
I better call the office.
Homicide, Graham.
Captain Elliott there?
I'll see.
Captain, would you take two?
Elliott?
This is Friday, checking in on the Valentine thing.
What's the story?
Couldn't get anything out of him.
He isn't hurt bad.
Right leg and shoulder.
All right.
Here's something you can run down.
Yeah?
Got a tip from White and Intelligence.
He's got a man out at Freddy's fishing chips on Slauson.
Says a couple of guys in there blowing off about Valentine.
Who are they?
Billy Keele and Tony Farrar.
They're not on Valentine's team.
That's right.
White's man says the party's getting rough out there.
You, Romero, better follow up on it.
Right.
Another thing, if it looks like anything, you better bring him in for questioning.
Okay.
Check on me when you get in.
Right.
Let's go.
What is it?
Keele and Farrar.
Skipper wants us to pick him up and bring him in for questioning.
What do they know about the shooting?
They know enough to talk about it.
Seven p.m.
We located Freddy's Fish and Chips place on Slauson near Montgomery Street.
A dozen or so tables at the back of the restaurant were already taken with the overflow lined up too deep at the bar.
The man from Intelligence Detail was down at the far end of the steam table nursing a cheese sandwich.
He motioned us over and pointed out Billy Keele and Tony Farrar.
They were sitting at one of the tables along with four other men drinking Boilermakers and eating French fried potatoes.
Ben and I made our way through the crowd toward the back tables.
Sorry.
Pardon me.
Can I get through here, please?
All right.
So let's take it.
Don't it?
You, Billy Keele?
That's right.
Which one is Tony Farrar?
He's getting a beer.
What do you want?
Police officers want to talk to you and Farrar downtown.
What's the matter?
I'd like to ask you a few questions.
You want to get your hat?
If you got any questions, you can ask them here.
Hey, Vic, how about buying a round?
Come on, Keele, let's go.
I got nothing to tell you now.
Let me alone.
There's two ways to go downtown, the hard way and the easy way.
Let's take the easy way.
All right.
This way.
Okay.
Hey.
Joe, Joe, I got Farrar.
He's going out the back way.
I'll get him.
Wait a minute, Joe.
Let go of me.
All right.
Let's go.
Come on, Farrar, come on.
You all right, Joe?
Yeah.
You're bleeding pretty bad.
Yeah, I know.
Let's get him to the car.
Look at your suit.
It's ripped to pieces.
My wife's going to kill me.
One of the officers in the ambulance follow-up drove our car back to the city hall.
Tony Farrar and Billy Keele were taken to Georgia Street Receiving Hospital for emergency treatment.
We went in the same ambulance.
Ben had a broken index finger, a two-inch cut in his scalp and a deep gash in his right thigh.
I had five stitches taken in my upper right arm and three above my left eye.
My right eye was swollen shut.
The man from intelligence detail was taken to the PNF ward to be treated for a minor concussion.
It was 9.15 p.m. when we got back to the city hall, the interrogation room.
How about it, Keele?
What?
What do you know about the Valentine shooting?
I don't know anything about it.
You're worried.
About what?
You tell us.
You started that fight out there.
I didn't see any reason to go downtown.
Does Valentine owe you any money?
No.
You've been talking a lot.
Any law against that?
Why'd you shoot Gus Valentine?
I didn't shoot him.
Can you account for your time Tuesday afternoon?
I don't have to answer that.
Where were you this afternoon?
My lawyer's coming in. Ask him.
How much money does Valentine owe you?
Keele, ever see this before?
I don't even know what it is.
We found that machine gun in your apartment.
It doesn't belong to me.
We got your car downstairs. Green Ford sedan.
Doesn't belong to me.
White Slip's got your name on it.
Here's something else with your name on it.
Two chits for $750 signed by Gus Valentine.
Money he owes you and the horses.
You shot him, didn't you?
I don't see how you can prove it.
I'll tell you how.
We ran this tommy gun through the crime lab.
We dug the same slugs out of the front of those stores
where you tried to kill Valentine.
Your prints are all over the gun.
How much more do you want?
It's not my gun.
All we gotta do is find the.45 you used this afternoon
and match it up with the slugs we dug out of Valentine's leg
and, Mr. You'll Be Away for a long time.
All right. We used the tommy gun.
We didn't hit him. Didn't try.
We only wanted to scare him.
I got tired of waiting for my dough.
I got no use for a Welchian.
What about this afternoon?
No, sir.
Me and Ferrat didn't have nothing to do with that.
I'll take the machine gun wrap, but it wasn't us this afternoon.
Elliot, Ferrati, step outside a minute.
Yeah.
Valentine.
Yeah?
Well, he just blew his hospital room full of holes.
It took us 17 minutes with red light and siren
to get to the Ferndale Sanitarium
where Gus Valentine was recovering from his gunshot wounds.
Three cruiser cars were out front when we pulled up.
We went to room 12 in the West Wing.
There's the doctor, Joe.
Yeah.
How is he, doctor?
He was dead when we got in here.
He had a private nurse who shot her too.
Dead.
Anyone else hurt?
It was visiting hours.
Some woman was in there talking to him.
She got hit.
We're treating her down in the emergency room.
Appreciate it, doctor, if you keep your staff out of the room
here until we finish our investigation.
Yes, sir.
Thank you.
Let's have a look inside.
Mm-hmm.
Look at that.
Mm.
He didn't fool this time.
Too bad he wouldn't give us more help.
Yeah.
We're no worse off than we were.
We still have to find out who it was without him.
I hope we can get to him before Valentine's crowd starts shooting back.
We got to.
Anyway, this cancels out his debts.
You know his record.
Yeah.
He owed a lot more than he could ever pay.
The story you have just heard was true.
Only the names were changed to protect the innocent.
On October 26th, trial was held in Superior Court,
Department 97, City and County of Los Angeles, State of California.
In a moment, the results of that trial.
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Yes, more and more smokers every day are discovering that Fatima
is the best of all long cigarettes.
Long cigarette smokers find Fatima has a much different, much better
flavor and aroma.
Long cigarette smokers find that Fatima is extra mild
because it's the long cigarette which contains the finest
Turkish and domestic tobaccos superbly blended to make it extra mild.
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It's wise to smoke extra mild Fatima.
Billy Keele and Tony Farrar were tried and convicted of assault
with intent to commit murder.
They were filed on by the Federal authorities, Bureau of Alcohol and Tax Unit
for the illegal possession of a machine gun and were found guilty in Federal Court.
Because they were both in custody at the time of Gus Valentine's murder,
they were cleared of any complicity of the crime.
Valentine's killer was still at large.
Next week, The Big Gangster, Part 2.
You have just heard Dragnet, authentic cases from official files.
Technical advice for Dragnet comes from the Office of Chief of Police,
W.A. Wharton, Los Angeles Police Department.
Today, the American Red Cross is carrying on a campaign to finance
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Fatima cigarettes, the best of all long cigarettes,
has brought you Dragnet portions transcribed from Los Angeles.
Tomorrow, hear the halls of Ivy on NBC.