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 a homicide detail.
A woman has been murdered, her identity unknown.
The body shows the marks of a savage attack.
Your job, find the killer.
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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 transcribed from official
police files.
From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Dragnet is the story of your police force
in action.
It was Sunday, December 25th.
It was raining in Los Angeles.
We were working the day watch out of homicide detail.
My partner is Ben Romero.
The boss is Blaine Steed, captain of homicide.
My name is Friday.
It was 39 minutes past 5 a.m. when I got to San Andreas Cathedral on 1st Street.
Churchyard.
Hi Dave.
Hi Joe.
The body's over here.
All right.
Merry Christmas.
Yeah.
A section from the church found it about an hour ago.
Have a look.
Pretty brutal.
Yeah.
Okay.
Who is she?
No identification.
The coroner checked the body yet?
Yeah.
How long has she been dead?
When it started raining.
About midnight, didn't it?
Yeah.
The ground's dry under the body.
Well, been dead five or six hours, I'd say.
Ben get here yet?
Yeah, he's helping Claudio check the area.
This park here, is this all a part of the church ground?
I think so.
I was stuck out of this rain for a minute.
There's an alcove over there by the church.
Yeah.
How much we got to go on, Dave?
Not much.
Motive looks like robbery.
Yeah.
Found a woman's purse near the body.
Pretty well picked over.
The purse is wet.
Lee Jones is dusting the contents of the prints.
Coroner's checking.
Any idea what the killer used in the woman's face?
The coroner figures a sharp instrument of some kind.
A nasty one.
Yeah.
Why didn't you look wet?
Hi, Ali.
How are you?
Everything happened on Christmas.
The purse was soaking wet.
Ordinary black handbag.
You raise any prints on the stuff inside?
None of one.
Here, you can check the content.
Thank you, Lee.
Let's see.
Small comb.
Boasted the teeth out of it.
Three pennies.
Hair pins, mirror, lipstick.
That's it, Ali.
A couple more things.
Yeah.
This fountain pen, this door key.
I don't know if I found them in the grass a few feet from the body.
Now have a look at those.
Yeah, it's an ordinary ballpoint fountain pen.
Buy them in any drugstore for 69 cents.
No sign of rust on the key.
Must have been dropped recently.
Maybe this will explain what happened to her face.
Broken beer bottle.
Where'd you find that?
Laughlin found it back in the bushes over there.
These jagged edges here smeared with blood.
Too much rain.
Can't do anything about prints till it dries.
Can you get enough from these smears to run a precipitant?
Think so.
Lee, got a minute?
Yeah, man. What is it?
Oh, hi, Joe.
Hi.
Claudio found a set of footprints over with that clump of frubbery.
Rain hasn't spoiled him yet.
Did you cover them?
Yeah, I think you can get a pretty good cash from him.
Better get a picture of them right away.
Hey, Charlie.
Right with you, Lee.
I'll get the stuff from the car.
You mind giving me a hand, Dave?
Let's go.
Well, this takes care of Christmas, Joe.
Yeah.
Did you get a chance to check the body yet?
Mm-hmm.
What do you think?
Well, there's no sign of struggle.
Could have happened after a Christmas Eve brawl, maybe.
Yeah?
Whoever the victim is, she was probably acquainted with the killer.
The two of them came in the park,
and the victim got it before she knew what was happening.
Might work easier if we find out who the victim is.
We can check her prints through R&I when we get back to the office.
What'd those footprints look like?
Seemed like a heavy print. Maybe work shoes of some kind.
Want to see how Lee's making out?
Yeah, let's go.
Gonna miss Christmas dinner again this year.
Footprints, family, family keys.
Where do we start?
That's a cheap pen. You sell five of them.
Want a smoke?
Oh, thanks.
Footprints will help convict the killer.
Got a fine in birth.
Hmm.
Thank you.
I don't know. Maybe we can work a switch.
How's that?
Find the lock that fits the key.
Nine a.m. Christmas day.
Sergeants Dave Arroyo, Robert Claudio, Ben and I went back to the office
and took stock of what we had to work with.
Wasn't much.
The woman had been murdered. Who was she?
Why was she killed? Who was the killer?
Dave and Claudio had the dead woman's fingerprints taken,
and they were run through the record bureau.
Ben and I checked with Lee Jones at the crime lab.
The results of the precipitant test showed that the type of blood found
on the broken beer bottle matched that of the victim.
From the casts of the foot impressions found at the scene of the killing,
Lee estimated that they were made by a person approximately five feet nine inches tall,
weighing about 160 pounds.
He figured the foot here must have been of a heavy type,
either a boot or a dress shoe with thick double soles, size 11.
At 9.40 a.m. we checked in at the basement of the Hall of Justice, the county morgue.
Doc, how's it going?
No limit, Joe.
It's caused by multiple fractures.
The skull flashing in the face was a contributing cause.
I sent a close to Lee Jones.
Yeah, we know. No laundry mark.
Well, I got two things.
Maybe they'll help me, maybe they won't.
Yeah?
The chemist's report here on the blood analysis shows the victim was drinking.
She was definitely under the influence at the time she was murdered.
Twelve hundredths of a percent alcohol in the blood.
Uh-huh.
How about the murder weapon, Doc?
We going to rule out that beer bottle?
I'm just coming to that.
Step over here.
Yeah?
This mark here on the side of her face, brown smudge.
Well, Jones says that that shoe polish he analyzed a few of the particles.
Ties in, the cause of death was brought about by severe blows in the head and face.
Heavy shoe, huh?
That's my guess.
Probably a boot or a work shoe.
That doesn't add, Joe.
What do you mean?
If they were heavy work shoes the killer was wearing, why would they polish?
How many people polish their work shoes?
To be waterproofing?
No, Jones says it was a brown paste polish.
Then it doesn't figure.
Unless the killer was wearing some kind of dress boots.
Cycle boots, maybe. Hundreds of kids on motorcycles were.
Yeah, that's going to be about as helpful as a key or a cheap fountain pen.
Excuse me.
Connie Morrick, Tyson speaking.
Yeah, all right, fine. I'll tell them.
Connie Amador and I want to see you right away.
What's up?
They made the victim's prints.
During the war years a complete file of pictures and fingerprints had been kept on all persons employed at local defense plants.
Out of this file came our first major lead.
The victim's fingerprints matched those of one Maria Camacho, 38 years old, formerly employed at Universal Aircraft.
Her address in 1945 was listed as 9230 Sheridan Avenue.
Ben and I went over to the crime lab, picked up the key and the fountain pen found near the body and drove to the Sheridan Avenue address.
The house was three blocks from the churchyard where the body was found.
A young woman with a baby in her arms answered the door. She identified herself as Elena Gomez.
She told us Maria Camacho was her aunt.
They were expecting her for Christmas dinner late that afternoon.
We told her what happened.
When she recovered from the shock we questioned her and her husband, the furniture worker.
So hide from me please. Why anyone would do this to me?
When's the last time you saw her, Mr. Gomez?
She was around last night, Sarge. She brought the presents for the kids. Always brought them presents on Christmas.
Did she live here? Was this her permanent address?
No. She stayed with us during the war when Ray was overseas.
When he came back she took a room down the street. I'll give you the address.
All right. What time did Maria leave the house last night?
Well, let's see. Must have been around ten o'clock. Not much later.
Don't you think, Elena? About ten o'clock?
Yeah, that's right. Go see what those kids are doing, huh, Ray?
Yeah, yeah. All right.
Did Maria have anything to drink here last night, Mrs. Gomez?
Yes, we had a glass of sherry together, that's all.
Could you tell if she'd been drinking before she came here?
It was Christmas Eve. I guess she'd had a few. Why?
Was she a pretty heavy drinker?
Not usually, no. Maybe on the holidays, though.
We like to get out and have fun, living alone, all that.
Poor Maria.
Did she drink at home, or was there some particular place she liked to go?
A canteen about on Soda Street. She used to go there.
Any others?
A couple of bars on Brooklyn Avenue. I don't know the names.
What did Maria do for a living, Mrs. Gomez?
She took in some dressmaking, with herself.
She wasn't poor, wasn't rich. Her landlady could tell you about her friends.
The kids are hungry, Lana. Dinner's getting cold.
Sorry that we had to break in on you like this.
It's all right, Sergeant. It's just the kids.
Ask the officers if they want some mince pie, Ray. Cup of coffee.
No, no, no. That's all right, Mrs. Gomez. Thank you.
Just one more thing. Would you look at these, please? This is a pen.
Sure, that's Maria's. Look, Ray, Maria's pen.
Now, how about this key?
No, I never saw that before.
Neither did I.
Well, thanks very much, both of you. Sorry to hold up your dinner.
Oh, that's all right. You're not hungry.
Hey, maybe I could fix you a turkey sandwich.
No, thank you, Dave. Same way you have to be going.
We'll contact you later on. Here's our card.
All right.
I can't think of a reason, Sergeant, why someone would kill her.
Why would they kill Maria?
Poor Maria.
Nice kid.
It's going to be having a good Christmas.
Too bad we had to spoil it.
We drove down the street to the rooming house where Maria Camacho stayed.
We talked to the landlady and the rest of the tenants who failed to come up with a lead.
They told us Maria Camacho drank a little, but she was always pleasant, easy to get along with.
We checked her room. We went through stacks of Spanish-language newspapers and magazines.
We went through her bills, photographs, her letters. We found nothing.
There wasn't an item in the small apartment that could help us.
We went through the entire rooming house, trying each door with a key that we'd found for the body.
It didn't fit any of them, not even the door to the victim's room.
Five p.m. There was a lull in the ring.
We picked up Dave and Claudio and started to explore the only lead we had.
The victim had been drinking a few hours before she'd been murdered, probably at a neighborhood tavern.
For the next six hours, we canvassed every bar in the vicinity.
Eleven fifteen p.m., Christmas night, the four of us met in a combination bar restaurant at Brooklyn and Soto for a bite to eat.
You had as much luck as we did, huh?
Nothing, Dave. Everybody we talked to knew the woman. Nobody saw her Christmas Eve.
We picked up the names of a dozen friends of hers from the bartender's, checked them out, but they couldn't tell us anything.
Well, we still got another dozen bars to cover at least. She must have been in one of them last night.
Wish we'd find it. My wife's sure mad. You've got company, so's mine.
All right, gentlemen, we'll have the grilled ham sandwich.
I did.
All right. And the three hamburgers.
Yep.
There we go.
I'll take...
You got some ketchup, please?
Sure. Say you wouldn't like a little eggnog to go with that. It's good. I make the batter myself.
No, no, no.
There is something you can do for us.
Yes, sir?
Would you look at this picture?
All right.
See if you can identify this woman.
She looks like Maria. Yeah, that's her. You know her?
Was she in here last night, do you know?
Yeah, she was.
What time was she in?
Oh, about 11, 11.30, why?
Was she with somebody?
Well, half a dozen of them at least. Maria, another woman, and four or five men.
Were they drinking?
Well, they were well behaved. Just had a little Christmas cheer, that's all. They liked my eggnog.
And what time did Maria leave, do you remember?
Well, no, not exactly, but she left before the others. They closed the place.
You fill us cups?
Did she leave alone?
No, Tony followed her out. I think it must have been sometime around midnight. I'm not sure.
Who's Tony?
Tony Perez. He's busboy here. He knows Maria.
Where is he now?
Christmas. He's off. Lives in a hotel down the street someplace. I don't know.
Time fit.
Maybe the key does.
Dave and Claudio started to check the neighborhood to locate the hotel where Tony Perez stayed.
Ben and I continued our canvas of bars and restaurants in the area.
One a.m. The rain started then again. We checked into the bar on Brooklyn Avenue near Cornwall, the Cantina Sinaloa.
Yes, sir. Gentlemen?
Police officers. Would you look at this picture, please, see if you can identify it?
Wait till I dry my hands. I'm just getting some of these glasses out of the way.
Let's see.
Never see her before?
Oh, yeah, that's Maria. Too bad. I read in the papers about it.
Can you tell us if she was in here last night?
No, I didn't see her. I read in the papers about it, though. Terrible. Poor Maria.
Impossible. She might have been in. You didn't see her?
No, I always know when Maria's here. She was always full of fun. She liked to sing.
I better get these glasses finished.
Ben, do you want to call the office?
Yeah, okay.
How about a drink, Sergeant? You don't look so good.
You got any coffee?
It's not very fresh. It's been standing there a couple of hours.
That's all right.
Okay.
Here.
Here's the sugar.
Thank you.
Yeah, that's not very warm, huh?
Oh, that's okay.
What do you think, officer? The guy was crazy.
I don't know.
Ah, he must have been crazy.
Lots of nice rain. Let's go for the farmers.
Yeah.
Sure.
You ever see this key before?
Let's see.
I don't know.
Joe.
Yeah?
Dave and Flory have found the hotel to pick up Tony Perez. Took him in.
What'd he tell them?
Dave says they're talking to him. No, he won't say much.
Did they find anything on him?
He's wearing a pair of dark brown boots.
Yeah.
Well polished.
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Music
Monday, December 26th, 9 a.m.
We checked Tony Perez through RNI.
He had a record of seven arrests but no convictions.
During the past year, he'd been booked on suspicion of 211 PC,
assault with intent to do great bodily harm, and second-degree burglary.
In each instance, he'd been released for a lack of evidence.
All of his shoes and clothing were brought to the crime lab for examination.
9.25 a.m.
We brought Perez back to the interrogation room.
He admitted that he had been with Maria Camacho Christmas Eve, but he denied having anything to do with her killing.
He told us that after he had left Maria, he'd gone to a party at some friend's house.
Dave and Claudio went out to check his story.
I gave them the key found near the body and asked them to try it on the door to Perez' hotel room.
Ben and I continued to question the suspect.
How well did you know Maria Camacho, Tony?
I told you already.
She was just some old crow who used to hang around the bars, that's all.
I used to talk to her once in a while.
You ever have any arguments with her?
No. How many times are you going to ask me that?
It would help a lot if you could tell us exactly where you left Maria Christmas Eve and when you left her.
I told you already. I don't remember exactly.
If it were drinking, we were all drinking. I don't remember.
How'd you get to that party?
I walked, placed down on Malabar Street.
Maria stopped at a bar someplace along the way, and that's the last time I saw her.
Did you go in with her?
No, she went in alone. I went to the party. That's all I know.
Interrogation room, Friday.
Lee Jones, Tom.
Yeah.
Check the polish on Perez' boots. It matches with the smear of polish on the victim's face.
The wax components are exactly the same.
Good. How about the cast?
Nope, they didn't match. The prints we cast out there were size 11, big heels.
Perez wears a 9, pretty small heel. No match at all.
What about the other stuff?
Went over the rest of his shoes and his clothes. Nothing that ties in.
Okay, Lee. Thank you.
Do you shine your own boots, Tony?
No. Why?
Where do you get them shined?
I go to Angelo's, Chicago Street, right near first.
When's the last time you got a shine?
Oh, Christmas Eve.
What time Christmas Eve, Tony?
When I got off work, about two and a half noon.
Hi.
Hi, Dave.
See one of you outside a minute?
Yeah.
Perez is telling the truth about the party. He was there.
We timed out how long it would take him to walk from the restaurant to the party.
Yeah.
Pretty close. His friends say he got to the party about 12, 30.
Doesn't look like he had time to kill that woman.
Where does that leave us?
Still got those boots.
No, no more. They don't match the impressions that the murder scene.
Well, that makes us even.
Huh?
Here's your key back. Didn't fit.
Tony Perez was held for further investigation.
Dave and Claudio took up the canvassing of bars in the same area where we'd left off the night before.
Ben and I drove down to Angelo's shine stand.
It stood just outside a barbershop, four chairs with an awning full of cigarette holes over them.
He identified Maria Camacho's picture immediately. We questioned him while he polished their shoes.
Maria, I used to tell a sergeant, running around like that, she had so many friends, too many.
Did you see Maria on Christmas Eve, Angelo?
Christmas Eve? Let me see. No, no, last time was two days before Christmas.
Angelo, do you know a man by the name of Tony Perez?
Tony? Sure. Tony Perez. Tall fella, big shoulder.
Was he one of your customers?
A long time he come to see me.
Was he here on Christmas Eve, Angelo?
Yeah, yeah, he was here. I gave him a shine. Good customer.
Remember what kind of shoes he had on?
Sure. Boots. He always wears boots.
What color were they, do you know?
Brown. Always wears brown boots.
Well, what's the matter?
Tony in trouble?
What kind of polish do you use on his boots, Angelo?
I got the can down here. This one here. High grade polish.
You got boots, I can fix them up.
Do you use the same polish on all the boots you shine, Angelo?
No, only the brown boots. That's brown polish.
You fellas, that's too many questions. You make me go too slow.
Well, there's no rush, Angelo. Can you tell me this?
Yeah?
Besides Tony Perez, is there anybody else with brown boots who got a shine from you Christmas Eve?
Well, I don't know. Lots of people get shined. Christmas Eve is pretty busy.
Just the people with brown boots, Angelo. Can you remember?
No, no, no, I don't think so. Tony was the only one with the brown boots. There's no others.
And how about heavy brown shoes?
Huh?
You remember the people with heavy brown shoes that came in for a shine?
No, no, I don't know. I don't know. Look, please, just letting me shine your shoes, huh?
That can of brown polish, Angelo, you say that's the kind you use on Tony Perez's boots?
Yeah, that's the kind. This kind right here.
Well, can you remember how many times you used that polish on Christmas Eve?
Well, I opened this can that morning and see how much is going.
Maybe I use it all, well, maybe half a dozen times.
Can you remember the people whose shoes call for this kind of polish?
Yeah, lots of them. Brown shoes. I know the feet when I see them. I don't know the faces.
Don't you remember any of them?
If they like the shine, they might be buying a buy to come back.
There were three or four fellas, maybe.
I see them before. I don't know their names.
Okay, finished. You like the shine?
Oh, yeah, fine.
Say, I'm going to buy that can of polish from you, Angelo, and we're going to check back with you later.
Okay. Here, here, this.
That's fine, Polish Sergeant. Best you can get.
Yeah, but it rubs off.
December 26th, 5 p.m. We drove back to the crime lab and had Lee Jones analyze the can of shoe polish.
It matched exactly with the particles of shoe polish taken from the victim's body and from the boots of Tony Perez.
We arranged for a stakeout at Angelo's Shine Stain.
In case the people with heavy brown shoes returned, Angelo could point them out immediately to the men on duty.
5.30 p.m. Dave and Claudio called in. They thought they had another nibble, this time from the bartender at the El Cedello Tavern, a bar on Soto Street.
We drove down to South Main and Harlem Place for a meet.
Hi, Dave. Hi. I figured we'd better move on this tonight.
What's the page?
Bartender on Soto tipped me that Maria Camacho was in this place Christmas Eve. Said it was a little after midnight.
Said she had a drink, left the place about ten minutes past 12 with a guy called Frank Talano. Nosed around from his Talano works at the Midnight Mission. Over there.
All right, let's go.
This it, Dave?
Yeah. Good friend's mission.
Come in for a nice warm spiritual bath, coffee and soup free.
Watch the stairs.
And now, brothers, I only hope that our meeting here has brought you close and made your souls to glow with the great and glorious light of the Spirit.
And yes, brothers, if we be not born again of that light, as the book says, we'll be damned, brothers.
Amen.
Now, brothers, while Sister Myrtle Ferguson plays one of his stirring marches, let's join arms, brother to brother, and march into the lunch room where, through the kind graces of one of our benefactors,
Pete Boudouris of the Acropolis Cafe, each one of you will be entitled to a bowl of turkey soup, some of Sister Wilson's homemade bread, and a cut of Miss Pie.
Now, Sister Ferguson, in the march.
I guess that's the man to see.
Yeah, let's go.
Sure pack a minute, don't you?
That soup smells real good.
Excuse me, sir?
Young brother? What is it?
Police officers. Do you have a Frank Talano working here?
Well, that's a trouble.
Does he work here?
Well, yes, he's a very good man, Frank. Anything wrong?
Is he here now?
No, he isn't.
Where can we find him?
Well, I'd like to know what the trouble is.
We'd like to talk to him, Mr. Dessau.
Well, he has a room at Good Friends Mission Annex that's over on San Pedro Street.
Is that his permanent residence, the Mission Annex?
Yes, Frank's very helpful. He works for a small salary, and we give him room and board.
Is he over at the Annex now?
Yeah, but maybe you'd better not see him now, Officer.
Why not?
Well, Frank's not at his best. He's been drinking again. That's a sure sign.
How do you mean?
Well, whenever Frank starts drinking, that means that he's worrying. He's one of those. He drinks to forget him.
He's been drinking for three days.
He must have a lot to forget. Come on.
6.30 p.m. We drove over to the Good Friends Mission Annex on San Pedro Street.
The man in charge told us that Talano had a small room to himself at the rear of the second floor.
Dave and Claudio went around to cover the Mission Annex from the back.
Ben and I went up a narrow flight of wooden stairs.
Plain white plaster walls were chipped and cracked and scrawled with pencil markings.
We walked down to the end of a wide hallway to a brown paneled door with a transom above it.
There was a man in soiled work clothes sitting on the bed.
On the table next to him there were three quart wine bottles. Two of them were empty.
Get out of here. You, Frank Talano, what about it?
Police officers like to talk to you.
Get out of here. You're not taking me. I'll cut you to pieces.
Drop the bottle, Talano.
Get out of here.
Drop the bottle.
I'll cut you to pieces.
Like you cut Maria.
I'll kill you.
Put it down, Talano.
Drop it.
Get the cups on.
Yeah.
Let's go.
Just a minute.
Yeah, it fits.
The story you have just heard was true.
Only the names were changed to protect the innocent.
On March 7th, trial was held in Superior Court, Department 94, City and County of Los Angeles, State of California.
In a moment, the results of that trial.
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Best of all, long cigarettes.
It's wise to smoke extra mild Fatima.
Frank Dominic Talano was tried and convicted of first degree murder and sentenced to life imprisonment.
He is now serving his term in the state penitentiary.
You have just heard Dragnet, a series of authentic cases from official files.
Technical advice for Dragnet comes from the Office of Chief of Police, W.A. Wharton, Los Angeles Police Department.
Fatima cigarettes, the best of all, long cigarettes has brought you Dragnet, transcribed from Los Angeles.
Patty Page visits Jack Birch tomorrow morning on NBC.