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 hit and run felony detail.
A dead body is found in the streets in the early hours of the morning.
There's only one clue, a set of skid marks on the pavement.
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 Monday, April 19th. It was windy in Los Angeles.
We were working the day watch out of traffic division.
My partner is Ben Romero. The boss is Lieutenant Calfee, commander AID.
My name is Friday. It was 7.55 a.m. when I got to the second floor at 123 South
Figueroa Street. Accident investigation. Get and run felony detail.
Good morning, Joe.
George?
How is it?
Oh, it's not much better. Still aching.
Rough.
Lousy thing. Kept me up most of the night.
Check with that dentist that told you about it?
Yeah, I did. Said it's a wisdom tooth. This one here.
Oh, yeah.
Says it's gotta come out. Supposed to go back and see him today.
That's rough. Remember a friend of mine had his wisdom teeth out.
Hurt like the devil. Terrible. Finally pulled them.
Eight for five, six days after.
Hmm.
Excuse me, Joe.
Yeah, McD?
Better have a 57 on that follow-up you handed yesterday, huh?
Okay. I got most of it down. I'll finish it up.
Friday?
Hi. Ben come in yet?
He's down in the record room. I want to see that Joe, if you ask.
Hmm. Hasn't gone down much.
That's a bad wisdom tooth, Dennis. He's gonna have to yank it.
Bum deal, huh?
That's the first time I ever had any trouble with him.
I remember a few years back my sister Gertrude had trouble with a wisdom tooth.
Impacted.
Yeah?
Whole side of her face was swollen. Poor kid was in terrible pain. Full week.
Even after they pulled it, it still hurt.
Oh.
Hi, Joe.
What?
Picked up the overnight reports down at records, Mac. Here you go.
Oh, thanks, Ben.
This one on top here. I'd like to have you two check it out.
Dead body report?
Yeah. Left me a note on it. That's about all. Hard to figure.
What's the story?
Just what you see in the report.
Victims. Edward Raymond Stokes, 732 Delano Street, Apartment 2.
His body was found in the gutter near 63rd and Vermont, 3 o'clock this morning. No witnesses.
Only one piece of evidence.
Yeah, see they got it listed here. Skid marks near the body. Is that all?
That's it. Apparently hit and run.
Where's the body, man?
Neighborhood mortuary out there. Emerald Hills Funeral Home.
One of the deputy coroners handled the body. A fellow named Joe Larimore.
Anybody claim it, chap?
No.
Okay. Ben, you ready?
Yeah, let's go.
I'm gonna check you later, man.
Yeah. If you need any help, I've got McLennan and Rogers on hand.
Right.
How do we manage to draw all the choice ones?
I don't know. Skid marks and a dead body.
Yeah.
Oh, say, I almost forgot. How's your jaw?
Oh, it still hurts.
Oh, it's tough.
And still swollen.
What did Dennis say?
Wisdom tooth.
Oh, miserable.
Yeah.
Wife had the same thing a couple years back. Dennis tried to yank the tooth and it broke right in two.
Finally got it out.
That's good.
Funny thing about wisdom, T.
What's that?
After they pull them. Hurts for five or six days.
Eight thirty-three a.m. Ben and I drove out to 63rd and Vermont and rechecked the spot where the dead body of Edward Stokes had been found.
According to the report, the body was found two feet west of the Easterly curb and thirty-two north of 63rd Street on Vermont.
We examined the skid marks. They showed definite signs of being a lot older than twenty-four hours.
The consistency of the rubber was weak and there were heavy dirt smudges over them indicating more wear than they could have possibly had since the estimated time of the victim's death.
We got back in the car and drove to the Emerald Hills funeral home at Vernon and Denver Avenue.
Sure is rotten weather for April, huh?
Yeah.
These funeral homes, you ever notice it?
What's that?
Why do they always put awnings over the windows? They never open drapes.
I don't know. Come on.
The funeral going on.
You know where the office is?
There's a brass plate on that door over there.
Let's have a look.
Yes, sir?
Here's somebody's, you know.
Gentlemen, the I.B. of Service?
Police officers. I'd like to talk to Mr. Larimore. I believe he's a deputy coroner.
I'm Mr. Larimore. You came about the hit-and-run victim?
Yeah, that's right. This is Sergeant Romero. My name's Bridey.
We'd like to check the body if we could.
Certainly. It's back this way.
I understand you moved the body from the scene of the accident here to the mortuary.
Yes, that's right. Early this morning. Unusual case.
Careful. There's two steps down just inside the door.
Thank you.
Why do you say it's unusual, Mr. Larimore?
Well, here, let me show you.
There.
Now, for one thing, the victim had a basal skull fracture.
I don't know about you gentlemen, but in the hit-and-run cases I've handled, a basal fracture's a pretty rare thing.
Well, it is possible, isn't it?
Yes, it's possible. Anything's possible, as they say.
But it's not usual. There are a few other things here, too.
Yeah.
Notice the victim's knee here. Single clean cut.
Also, these wounds on the head.
I've never seen anything like it in hit-and-run cases. I've been called in.
Yeah, a wound on the knee doesn't jive, does it? If it was hit by a car, the knee should be skinned up quite a bit.
Exactly. Well, you know how it usually is. The automobile hits the victim.
There's always signs that the body was either dragged or thrown.
Shredding of clothing, skinned knees, legs, elbows.
No sign of that here.
You don't think the victim could have been killed by hit-and-run cars, any?
No, I don't say that. It's possible that it might have been a car, but...
Well, let's say it's not very probable.
Has anybody at all inquired about the body, Mr. Larimore?
No one, no.
That's funny.
Oh, uh... Mr. Larimore, can I see him, please?
All right, Tom. Excuse me a moment?
Yeah, sure.
Well, yeah. Where do we start?
I don't know. Maybe we won't have to.
Another lead like this, we can turn it over to homicide.
Sergeant?
Yeah?
There's a young lady in the lobby.
She wants to claim the body.
The girl was shown the body. She identified it as that of Edward Raymond Stokes.
She gave her name as Marion Fuller, the victim's common-law wife.
After she recovered from her shock, she asked if she might sit down for a while and rest.
We took her into one of the offices in the mortuary and Ben got her a glass of water.
She told us that she had last seen Stokes alive at about 1 a.m. that morning.
They'd been drinking together at a neighborhood bar on Vermont Avenue between 63rd and 64th streets,
half a block from where the victim's body had been found scrawled in the gutter.
Why don't you sit down over there, Miss Fuller?
Thanks.
How long did you know Edward Stokes, Miss Fuller?
About six years. On and off.
We've been together pretty much the last couple of years, though.
Oh, my head.
Would you mind telling us exactly what happened while you were with Stokes last night,
everything he can remember?
I can't think. This headache's killing me.
Well, we should try, Miss Fuller. It's important.
Well, Eddie and I had dinner together at the Spanish oven, face down on South Fig.
That was about a quarter to eight.
Then we drove out to the Brown Barrel on Vermont, the bar I told you about.
Yeah.
Eddie and I go there most of the time.
We stayed there and drank, played a little shuffleboard.
You know, go ahead.
Oh, we stayed too long, drank a little too much.
I started talking to this fellow next to me, and he got sore.
Always got jealous when he was drunk. Poor Eddie.
Did Eddie fight with this other man, Miss Fuller?
Oh, no, I stopped him. That made Eddie mad.
He never could drink right. He always wanted to pick a fight.
Who was the other man you remember?
No, I don't. I guess I had a lot to drink, too.
He was just some guy at the bar.
Headache.
Well, it's not going to take much longer. Just a few more questions.
That organ's getting on my nerves.
What happened after you broke up the argument between Stokes and the other man?
Oh, nothing. We stayed in the bar.
Eddie played shuffleboard most of the time. I was one of the booths drinking.
Yeah?
Around one o'clock, I started feeling sick, so I went outside and sat in the car.
I guess I passed out there.
In your car?
No. I guess I belonged to one of the fellows in the bar.
I passed out, and that's all I can remember.
Did you sleep in the car all night?
No. I guess whoever owned it drove me home.
Well, how did they know where you lived?
Must have been one of our friends. I don't know. I don't remember anything until this morning.
They phoned me up and said Eddie was dead.
Who phoned you, Miss Farr?
One of our friends. I don't remember. I had a rotten headache.
Well, you can do better than that.
I tell you, I don't remember.
They phoned and told me Eddie was dead. Somebody ran Eddie down.
All right.
Where are we going?
Downtown. We'll have a stenographer take your statement.
I've got a terrible hangover. I've never had one as bad as this.
Neither has Eddie. Let's go.
From the way back to the office, Ben stopped at a drug store, and I picked up a box of aspirin.
The wisdom tooth was giving me trouble again.
The clerk at the soda fountain fixed something for Marion Fuller's hangover.
When we got her back to the office, we questioned her for more than an hour,
but she gave us only one additional piece of information.
The victim, Eddie Stokes, had been married before and divorced.
His ex-wife lived out in the valley with her two children,
and on several occasions she came to see Stokes at the Vermont Avenue bar.
When he failed to make the monthly payments for the support of the children.
Each time they'd argued bitterly.
We had a police stenographer take the Fuller woman's statement, and then she was released.
Ten forty-five a.m., Sergeants Rogers and McLendon were assigned to check out the Vermont Avenue bar,
where Stokes had last been seen alive.
Ben and I drove out to the valley to the home of Catherine Stokes, the victim's former wife.
She met us on the front porch.
Inside, it sounded like one of the children was practicing her magic.
We told her what had happened.
Last week, I think it was. Yes, Thursday last week.
Eddie hadn't sent any money for the kids' support for three months.
I hated to chase after him like that. There wasn't anything else I could do.
Where did you meet him, Miss Stokes?
That bar I used to hang around.
It's over on Vermont, called the Brown Barrel or something.
Wouldn't you like to come inside?
Yes, thank you.
Do you happen to know anybody by the name of Marion Fuller?
Yes, Eddie mentioned her.
It was a man's seeing a woman like that.
Do you know anything about her at all?
No. Whenever I saw Eddie, he'd mention he was running around with her.
Yes, he wanted to make me jealous.
Was your husband a pretty heavy drinker?
Yes, he was. So I got the divorce.
Eddie was such a fine boy when we got married.
Good home. You didn't know any of the people he'd been running around with lately?
No, just the Fuller woman, that's all.
Can you think of anything at all that might possibly have a bearing on his death?
No. Eddie was probably drinking,
wandered in the street in a car hit.
I don't know.
Oh, there's the bakery, man. I've got to get some bread and a few things. Excuse me?
I think that's about all, don't you, Joe?
Yeah, I'll tell you what, I'm going to go get some bread.
You're going to get some bread and some bread?
Yeah.
I'll tell you what, I'll leave our car here, Ms. Stokes, in case you want to contact us for any reason.
All right.
It was so wonderful when we were married, Eddie and I.
My folks gave us this house as a wedding present.
We got wonderful presents.
We had everything we wanted.
A car, nice house, kids.
It was wonderful that we started drinking.
Started all of a sudden. I never knew why.
Yes, ma'am.
How do men get that way?
How do they start?
I don't know. We only see a part of it.
Yeah?
When they finish.
Twelve noon, Ben and I drove back into town to Vermont and 63rd Street for a meet with Sergeants Rogers and McClendon.
They told us that they checked out the bartender who had been on duty the night before,
and also seven of his customers.
Their stories were almost identical.
Each of them remembered seeing Eddie Stokes at the bar.
Each of them remembered he was playing shuffleboard, that he was drinking heavily, and that he left the bar at about 1.45 a.m.
All of us had the idea that for some reason the bartender and the customers were lying.
In most cases, it's hard to find two witnesses who tell identical stories, let alone seven.
For the rest of that afternoon, Rogers, McClendon, Ben, and I spent our time canvassing the neighborhood in the vicinity of the Brown Barrel Tavern.
4.45 p.m.
We talked to the proprietor of a small grocery store two blocks down the street from the tavern.
He told us that he rarely visited the bar, but that he thought that the man who ran the butcher shop next to his place, Mr. Eugene Murray,
was a regular patron of the Brown Barrel.
So we went next door.
Would you make that two pounds of ground brown, Mr. Murray, we're having, combination, please?
Yes, ma'am, two pounds.
Nice looking meats, huh, Joe?
Yeah, those steaks look good, don't they?
Mm-hmm.
Two pounds.
All right.
Anything else now, Mrs. Kidney?
Got some nice fresh kidneys today.
No, George won't touch kidneys. That'll be all.
You put it on the bill, won't you, Mr. Murray?
Yes, ma'am. Thank you.
You're welcome.
Yes, sir, gentlemen. Can I help you?
Police officers, Mr. Murray, I'd like to ask you a few questions.
Oh, sure. Glad to help out if I can.
Have you ever been in the Brown Barrel tavern down the next block there?
Brown Barrel? Yeah, I go there all the time.
Say, would you mind if I fix up another while we're talking?
The customer's gonna pick it up in a couple of minutes. I don't like to keep waiting.
Sure, go ahead.
I gotta go to the ice bar.
When's the last time you were in the Brown Barrel, Mr. Murray?
Last night, wife and I went to the movies.
I'm gonna have English fixed tonight.
Closet.
Closing picture. We got dinner at the barrel on the way home for a beer.
By what time was that?
Pretty close to two.
What's the matter? Some kind of trouble?
Did you notice anything unusual while you were in there? Anybody fighting or arguing?
No, we were only in there a couple of minutes, but now that you mention it, there was something funny happened.
What was that?
Well, the bartender Carl and a half dozen of the neighborhood gang were back in one of the booths talking together.
They seemed kind of nervous. None of them seemed to be having a good time.
Yeah.
Wife and I yelled hello at them, but they kind of gave us a go-by.
Then this drunk came up to us.
Uh, any, uh, say officer, would you reach that knife for me?
Which one?
Uh, that one.
Oh yeah, here you are.
Yeah, thanks.
Go ahead.
Yeah, well, this drunk came up to us and whispers to me, say, you better get out of here. There's been a fight.
Isn't that a beautiful piece of meat?
Well, I didn't pay much attention to him. He was pretty drunk, could hardly understand him.
I guess they have a lot of fights in there anyway.
Is that all he told you? There's been a fight?
Yeah, that time. Well, he came back a couple of minutes later and whispered the same thing.
You better get out. There's been a fight, he said. Wife and I just laughed at him.
Mm-hmm.
He said, I know all about it. A guy's been murdered.
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Six p.m. Ben and I went back to homicide to turn the case over to them.
They asked us to handle the investigation for another day because they were short of men at the moment
and because there was still a big doubt as to whether or not Eddie Stokes had really been murdered.
Actually, the only solid lead we had was the secondhand testimony of a drunken witness that,
and the deputy coroner's doubts, that Stokes was actually the victim of a hit-and-run.
Mr. Murray the butcher didn't know the name of the man who told him that there had been a murder
and he could give us only a meager description.
We brought Marion Fuller back in and re-questioned her.
She stuck to her story. She didn't remember anything. She was released again.
It looked like we were in for a long night.
We went across the street for a bowl of soup and a sandwich.
When we got back, Ben called his wife and told her he'd be working late.
I called my mother.
Working late again? Oh, Joseph. How's your tooth feeling?
It's a little better, Ma. It's still pretty tender.
I'm going to go to the dentist tomorrow.
Yes, you've got to have that attended to right away.
Bad teeth can poison your whole system.
You be sure and see that dentist. Is he a good one?
Yeah, he's okay. One of the fellas down here told me about him.
I'll see you a little later. Don't wait up.
Yeah, and you don't work too late, Joseph. You need your rest.
Yeah, okay, Ma. Goodbye.
All right, Joseph. Goodbye.
Joe. Yeah?
Just talked to that butcher's wife on the phone, Ms. Murray.
What'd she have to say?
Ask her the same questions we asked Murray. She couldn't add much. Same story.
Got something for you? Yeah, Matt?
Rogers and McLendon just called in. They're still out at that bar.
Joe? Finally got somebody to talk a little.
What'd they get? The bar boy out there.
He says there was a fight happened about 1.30.
Doesn't remember who was fighting. Not much yet.
The bar boy's name is Milner. He told Rogers he went outside about 20 minutes to 2 to put the garbage out.
He saw the fuller woman asleep in that car.
You get the license number? No.
Said there was a ticket on the windshield.
Ben and I checked with the sergeant of the watch at 77th Street Division.
He told us Unit 111 was assigned to the area where the brown barrel was located.
In checking their worksheet, we found that Unit 111 had issued a hang-on citation the night before to a car parked near 63, 30, and 1 half Vermont Avenue, the address of the brown barrel tavern.
We checked the license number through DMV and found that the car was registered to a William R. Huddy, 14 Naylor Street.
We drove out to the Naylor Street address and talked to Huddy's wife.
She told us he was playing in a shuffleboard tournament that night at a bar down on South Olive Street.
8.55 p.m. We checked in at the bar.
The bar, Ken? Oh, yes, sir. What'll it be?
Do you know if there's a William Huddy in here? He's supposed to be playing a shuffleboard game here tonight.
Oh, yeah, I know. He's with the Highland Park team.
Yeah, let me see. Yeah, that's him up now, out on the blue shirt.
Thank you. Come on, Ben.
That's it, Bill. Good weight. Make it another three.
Oh, that cleans him. Good one, Bill.
Yeah, that's pretty close feet, that one, Max.
Excuse me? Yeah?
Are you William Huddy? Yeah, that's right.
Police officers. We'd like to talk to you a minute. Oh, what about?
I'd like to ask you a few questions. You step over here a minute.
Yeah, all right.
Were you at the Brown Bell Tavern out on Vermont last night?
Yeah, I was. Why, what's the matter?
You know Marion Fuller? Yeah, she hangs around the place. She goes with a guy named Eddie.
Did you drive her home last night?
Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did. She passed out in my car.
She's a nice kid, but she drinks a lot. I drove her home.
Do you mind telling us what happened at the bar last night when you were there?
Well, I come in about nine o'clock and I start playing shuffleboard with a couple of guys.
This guy Eddie still wants one of them. Yeah?
Well, he got in a beef with a guy at the bar over Marion. It's nothing big, though.
Guy left after a while. Go ahead.
That's about all. I left the place around 1.30 and I said he was beefing with some merchant seaman about that time.
Was the Fuller girl still at the bar at that time?
No, when I went outside, I saw her sleeping in my car, so I drove her home.
I left her off and then came back to the bar. That's when they told me.
Told you what?
Well, they said Eddie had a fight with this merchant seaman. They said it'd be better if we kept it quiet.
Who told you that?
Carl, a bartender. And I got the real story from one of the fellas I was playing shuffleboard with, Leo McCarty.
What'd he tell you?
Well, he said that when Eddie Stokes left, the merchant seaman followed him out. He said he chased Eddie.
McCarty went out about five minutes later. Yeah?
Well, the merchant seaman was gone and Stokes was lying in the gutter down the street.
Did McCarty look at him?
Yeah, he said Stokes looked pretty bad. He said he looked like he was dead, but I wouldn't believe that.
Why not?
This McCarty always exaggerates.
Ten fifteen p.m. We had William Huddy come back to the office with us where we questioned him further and took his statement.
Then we had his friend Leo McCarty brought in along with the bartender at the Brown Barrel Tavern and the customers that he'd framed his story with.
McCarty was the first to give us the straight story and then the others followed.
The bartender, Carl Janssen, who also owned the bar, was the last to break.
How about it, Janssen? Why didn't we get a straight story to begin with?
What about the publicity? How would that look? A murder around my place.
It could work out worse than that, Mr. Janssen. You've been withholding evidence. You talked these people into the same deal.
I'd protect myself. The newspapers, all the scandal recommends business. I had to keep it quiet.
It's not my fault that Stokes was killed. I didn't do it. I'm not to blame.
No, but you know who is to blame. Now, how about it? Who is he?
Well, he works on the ships. Comes in here most of the time when he's in port.
What's his name?
Henry Baxter. I've cashed some of his paychecks.
Ben, you better get the captain, huh?
Yeah, okay.
Hit the run felony Friday. Oh, yeah. No, just a minute. For you, Janssen.
Oh, yeah. Thank you. Yes. Oh. Yes, Frida, just a minute. Sergeant.
Yeah.
It's my wife. She's at the bar now. She thought she ought to know.
Yeah?
Henry Baxter. Frida says he just came in.
I talked to Janssen's wife and told her to delay Baxter as long as possible without arousing his suspicions.
Eleven twenty-five p.m. Ben and I and Mr. Janssen, along with Rogers and McClendon, drove out to the Brown Barrel Tavern on Vermont.
When we got there, Baxter was gone. Mrs. Janssen told us he was pretty drunk by the time he left the bar.
She'd watched him go down one block, cross the street, and then enter a small nightclub on the opposite side called the Pink Shamrock.
She'd been keeping an eye on the place, and as far as she knew, Baxter was still inside.
We went down the street to the nightclub. Rogers and McClendon covered the back entrance.
We got inside in the middle of a floor show. The blonde was doing some kind of a dance.
Can you spot him, Mr. Janssen?
No. I don't see him yet.
How about over on this side, back in the corner there?
No. No, he's not there. It's so dark in here I can't see too well.
There's the rear exit to the place. He could have slept out that way.
Gentlemen, like to have the picture taken? Souvenir photograph?
No, no thanks. Maybe we'd better check with the waiter, Ben.
No, I'll just show you in just a minute. That man over there at that table.
Where?
Yeah, yeah, I'm almost positive.
Where?
Right there next to that pillar. Just behind it, you see.
Yeah, yeah, that's him, that's him.
All right. Come on, Ben. You stay right here, Mr. Janssen.
You bet.
Waiter? Hey, waiter. Another Coke High.
New waiter, another Coke High.
Your name is Henry Baxter?
Yeah, that's right. What?
Police officers like to talk to you.
Yeah? Well, yeah.
Outside.
Outside nothing. You want to see a show?
Let's go outside. Come on, Baxter.
Hey, wait a minute. What's the beef anyway?
You know what the beef is?
Sure I know what the beef is.
Come on, Baxter.
The lousy punk Eddie Stokes trying to give me bad times.
Now he knows what a bad time is.
Come on, Baxter. Come on.
I told him what the beef was.
I saw how he did it.
I beat him. He hit his head on the curb.
Come on. Let's go.
Hey, everybody, I killed Eddie Stokes.
I killed him.
All right, then.
Let's get him out of here.
Yeah, okay.
How's that tooth feel, Joe?
It's okay. Better have the dentist yank it out first thing tomorrow.
Well, I think I'll hold off a while.
The story you have just heard was true.
Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
On July 30th, trial was held in Superior Court,
Department 87, City and County of Los Angeles, State of California.
In a moment, the results of that trial.
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superbly blended to make it extra mild,
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Music
Henry John Baxter was tried and convicted in Superior Court of manslaughter.
He received a sentence as prescribed by law
and is now serving his term in the State Penitentiary.
Music
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.
Music
Fatima cigarettes, best of all, long cigarettes,
has brought you Dragnet, transcribed from Los Angeles.
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Sarah Berners stars in Sarah's Private Caper, next on NBC.
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