Ladies and gentlemen, next week, Thursday, August 24th,
Dragnet will be heard one hour earlier at 9 p.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time.
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 juvenile bureau.
A vicious case of wanton and willful destruction of private property occurs in your city.
Suspicion points to a juvenile. Your job, find him.
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Dragnet, the document a 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, April 10th. It was cool in Los Angeles.
We were working a day watch out of juvenile bureau. My partner is Ben Romero.
The boss is Inspector Bowling. My name is Friday.
It was 9.35 a.m. when we got to 1335 Georgia Street, the captain's office.
I want to ask you to sit down. We're not going to be here that long.
Get your hats.
Right away.
Where's your car?
Right out front.
All right.
What's up?
A rotten mess.
We got in the car and drove south in figure oil. We got to West 103rd Street.
According to Inspector Bowling's directions, we turned right and went about four miles.
He directed us to pull up in front of a one-story frame residence that had been converted into small business offices.
On the right side going in was a neighborhood jeweler's shop. We could see him working in the window.
Over the door of the office on the left was a lawyer's shingle. The gold lettering was new.
What's this way?
Lawyers' house.
That's right. Name's Paul Wilson.
It's me, Miss Wilson.
Oh, come in, Inspector Bowling.
Mr. Wilson, this is Sergeant Friday. Romero, juvenile detail. I'm assigning him to this case.
Hey, you, sir.
How are you, Mike?
All right. Look at it. Just look at it.
Look at that, Joe.
Yeah.
Paint. It's all over everything.
Look at that leather chair. It's ruined.
The desk smeared with the stuff.
Green paint.
Yeah. Looks like they threw it on the mop, didn't they?
Rug soaked with it, the walls.
Look, Joe. They even got the clock.
Yeah.
Take a good look. Remember it when you tag whoever did it.
These are your law books, Mr. Wilson?
Yes, sir.
I didn't have to do this.
Bored paint all over them.
Yes, sir.
When did all this happen?
Sometime last night. I found it this way when I came in this morning.
Any idea who did it?
That's why he called us. We're gonna find out.
I don't know who'd want to do a thing like this.
Just opened my office three days ago, just hung out my shingle.
You just started practicing law, didn't you?
Yes, sir. Graduated from Loyola University Extension Division.
Been looking for office space for a long time.
Was anything taken?
No. It's such a dirty rotten thing to pull. Undoubtedly a kid.
That's pretty vicious for a kid.
Can you think of any enemies that you might have had, Mr. Wilson?
No, sir. No one would do a thing like this.
I can't understand it. There's no reason for it that I can think of.
The crime report shows the gut in the back door. Is that right, Mr. Wilson?
Can you come back here? I'll show you.
Okay.
Here it is, right here.
See, this used to be the kitchen when this was a flat.
I was gonna put a hot plate in here for coffee.
Oh, yes.
You can see where they cut through this green door.
It's all right. It's been checked.
Okay.
Oh, yeah. Yeah, I see.
Any pass key would fit the inside door here.
Yes, sir. That's right.
You can follow the trail of that green pane right from this door all the way through the house.
Yeah.
I don't know how I'll ever get it all off.
You know of any cleaners that handle things like this?
We're not allowed to recommend anybody, Mr. Wilson.
If you have somebody in mind, we'd be happy to call them for you.
Thank you. I'd appreciate it.
I was gonna make some calls, but I haven't got my phone installed yet.
Estimated damage about $1,800, is that right?
That's what I figure, yes.
My law books are over $600 alone.
Borrowed the money from the bank for the furniture.
You haven't noticed any kids in the neighborhood, none of them around while you were moving in?
No, I didn't see any.
I moved everything in myself, rented a trailer,
made several trips to get it all over here.
Guess that was a silly thing to do.
Why?
Well, a store where I bought the furniture said they'd deliver it,
but I couldn't wait to see everything in.
First office, you know.
Yeah, we understand.
Like I said, I made several trips with the trailer,
and I didn't lock the office each time I left.
Didn't figure it was necessary.
The fellow across the hall with the jeweler said he'd keep an eye on things for me.
But you did lock up last night, didn't you?
Oh, yes. As soon as I was moved in, I locked the place at all times when I wasn't here.
That's it.
I'm gonna get right on it.
I don't have to tell you again. I want a fast answer.
Where do we start?
With an empty pig can.
Before we left attorney Paul Wilson,
we took a sample scraping of the green paint to serve as a color check.
We started to canvas the neighborhood door to door.
We covered the area for a radius of six blocks,
questioning the residents and checking out the youngsters.
We failed to come up with anything.
We figured another good angle was to try the schools in the area.
We checked on the students who had been in any kind of trouble involving malicious pranks.
We had the principals line their students up.
We looked them all over thoroughly for any evidences of paint of any kind on their person or on their clothing.
The few leads we found led nowhere.
After a week without success, we went back and rechecked the neighborhood,
the paint stores to see if anyone had bought any green paint,
anyone they might have forgotten to tell us about the first time through.
No leads.
Monday, April 18th,
been a nice stop for a coke at a hot dog stand in the corner of 103rd and Oakview Avenue.
A couple of cokes please.
Come on, help yourselves.
Yeah, okay.
Here's one.
I don't see any more.
There's one lying on the side.
No, no, over there with the grape.
Oh, yeah.
Let me get it for you.
Oh, thanks.
Here you are.
Good.
Every time I think of that boy's office, it makes me sick.
Well, if we could just get some kind of lead, anything for a start.
Pardon me.
I'd be satisfied.
I have nothing to work on. It's like stabbing in the dark.
Joe.
Yeah?
Look down the street there.
Hmm?
This is tin can day. Everybody's got them set out in front of their houses.
It's worth a try, isn't it?
Let's try a place across the street and then work down the block.
All right.
Come on.
I had a cousin move down from San Francisco.
It took him almost a year to get used to this tin can system here in L.A.
Is that so?
Yeah, up there they throw everything into one garbage can. Tin cans, no.
Oh, I didn't know that.
Yeah, sure.
Tad, my cousin, never could get used to putting the cans out.
Backyard was full up before his wife reminded him to put them out.
Garbage kind of piled up too.
They wouldn't pick it up with the tin cans in it.
You want to check these here?
I'll get this bunch here.
Okay.
Don't see any paint cans.
No, none here either.
How about those down there?
No can.
Let's go.
I'll get this box.
I wonder if this is any good.
What's that?
Prune juice.
See a lot of empty bottles.
Any paint cans?
No.
Let's go.
That's the way it went.
Block after block, house after house.
We covered five blocks, checking the containers full of empty tin cans.
Found a few paint cans, none of them the right color,
or any combinations that would go together to make the right color.
It was a tiring job, but we figured it was at least a place to start.
Sure a lot of cans here.
Must be a new bride, huh?
I don't know.
Find anything?
No, not yet.
How about this?
Huh?
This one.
One gallon can?
Green.
Let's ask.
Yes?
Police officers, ma'am.
Does empty paint can belong to you?
You can have it if you want. We threw it out.
Do you have any children here, ma'am?
Yes, a boy.
How old is he?
One year.
Would you mind telling us what this paint was used for?
We just moved here.
Is there any law about throwing out paint cans?
Oh, no, ma'am. We're investigating a case.
Just like to know what the paint was used for.
Did old man Boone send you over?
I beg your pardon?
Mr. Boone, the man we rented this house from?
No, ma'am.
I thought maybe it was him.
He said we couldn't do any painting inside.
We don't know anything about that.
You sure? I don't trust him.
No, ma'am.
You say the paint was used to redecorate?
Yes, come in. I'll show you.
Thank you.
In here.
See?
Yeah.
Carlos, dear, my husband.
I told him he should have waited till Sunday.
Whose idea was it to paint the bathtub?
Carlos. He's going to night school learning English.
The teacher told him the best way to learn
was to speak it around the house.
Yes, ma'am.
It's better for the little one, too.
Well, anyway, Carlos gets paid on Saturday night.
Then he stops at the little place where the fellows he works with
and have a little drink.
He gets his paycheck cashed there.
When he came home, he said he was going to paint the bathroom for me.
This is rather a little dirt.
I was in the kitchen and I yelled to him to paint around the top.
Around the top, I said.
Like I said, he doesn't know English too good yet.
We have a green top.
I see. Well, thank you.
He's going to clean the top next Saturday.
We use the shower.
He painted that, too, didn't he?
Well, thank you very much, ma'am. We're sorry to have disturbed you.
That's all right.
I'm worried about next Saturday night.
Why is that?
He's not telling what he's going to do with that paint remover.
4.30 p.m.
We were no closer to finding out who spread that paint around
at the attorney's office than when we started.
We continued checking the neighborhood, but we found nothing.
A few minutes before 5, we got a call to check back in with Inspector Bowling.
You doing any good out there?
Nothing to tell.
We had a little action, a new one.
Yeah, what's that?
Came in about an hour ago. Somebody poured kerosene on three palm trees
and set them on fire.
Three trees, three different blocks.
Kept the fire department busy, tied up the traffic for several hours.
I've sent additional juvenile cars out there to cover
happened in the same general area as the paint job.
Many leads.
Now, anyone who would smear paint over an office might set a palm tree on fire.
Same type of gag, malicious mischief.
Think there's a connection between the two?
Well, it's anybody's guess.
Paint routine's a new one, so is the palm trees.
They're both one-time only shots.
Maybe the two connect somewhere along the line.
Or maybe it's got to stop. We can't even find a place to begin.
We've tried everything we know.
Starting again tomorrow.
That isn't going to make that young lawyer feel any better.
RINGING
Yeah? Who?
You take him down to the detention room?
He does, huh?
All right, I'll see him. Yeah, right now.
16-year-old boy out there says he's got to see me.
Would you like to talk to him alone?
No, that's all right. You stay.
Come in.
You the chief?
My name's Bowling, juvenile bureau. Yeah.
Could I talk to you alone?
Well, these officers work with me.
Can you talk in front of them, son?
I guess so.
Well, come on over here.
You want to sit down, son?
I'd rather stand if it's okay.
All right, what's on your mind?
I want to confess.
What do you want to confess, son?
I murdered somebody.
You are listening to Dragnet,
actual case histories taken from official police files.
If you smoke a long cigarette,
it will be in your interest to listen to these case histories
taken from the file marked Fatima.
On this card, reporter Lee Silver's statement.
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So enjoy extra mild Fatima yourself.
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Next week, Thursday, August 24th,
Dragnet will be heard one hour earlier
at 9 p.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time.
["The Star-Spangled Banner"]
Six p.m. Monday, April 18th.
The boy identified himself as Arnold Waterman,
gave his age as 16.
He told us that two days before, at 98th Street and 2nd Avenue,
he had shot a man to death and hidden his body in the basement of a house.
He was taken to the interrogation room,
where a police stenographer took his statement.
Inspector Bowling sent Ben and I out to check his story.
9.30 p.m. We drove back to Georgia Street Juvel
and went to the interrogation room.
Arnold? Yes, sir?
These two men have been out at 98th Street and 2nd Avenue
checking your story.
Do you find the body?
Well, there's no body out there.
There should be. I put it in the cellar.
There's no house out there. It's a vacant lot.
We checked all the houses near there.
You sure you killed somebody?
Of course I'm sure.
I stole a gun. I shot him three times in the back.
What'd you do with the gun?
I threw it in Westlake Park.
Where?
In the water.
I ran into a boat and rode out to the middle.
That's where I threw it in.
Why did you kill the man?
I don't know. I didn't like him.
Now, look, boy, you didn't kill anybody.
There's nothing to back up your story.
There's not an ounce of truth in it.
How do you know you haven't found the body?
Just wait. You'll find it and then you'll see.
I killed him already.
Will you show us where you hid the body?
Why should I? I told you you couldn't find it.
These men have gone over that entire area thoroughly.
There's nobody out there and you know it.
You cops are funny.
When somebody won't admit a murder,
you keep asking questions until they do.
I'm telling you, I murdered somebody
and you keep trying to talk me out of it.
If we can find one shred of proof,
we might go along with you.
You can't be convicted without proof.
How much do you need? You got my confession.
I offered to sign it. They wouldn't let me.
What more do you need?
We need a victim, Arnold.
If you knew where to look, you could find it.
We've looked every place you told us to.
You're lying to us, huh? And why?
I never liked the old man.
I hated his wife.
I killed her too.
I wasn't gonna tell you that.
Where do you go to school?
I quit school to sell papers.
I had to support my mother.
Who was your father?
I don't know. My mother wouldn't tell me.
That's where I met the old man I killed,
selling papers.
He was my boss. None of us liked him.
Nobody had the nerve to do it but me.
The rest of the guys were scared, but not me.
What was the old man's name?
I can't think of it right now.
He was your boss.
He never told us his name.
We just worked for him.
Where'd you sell papers?
I don't remember.
I had to sell papers.
We were going hungry.
I couldn't stand to see my mother starve.
Wasn't your father where?
I don't know where he is.
I told you that.
We tried to get on relief.
They wouldn't let us.
I made a lot of money selling papers.
After a while, we didn't need relief anymore.
I made $100 a week.
Why are you lying to us, son?
If you think I'm lying, why don't you let me go home?
Well, you have anything to hold you for.
You can go home.
Not until I have a trial.
I already called a lawyer.
He'll be over pretty soon.
I've sent for your mother, Arnold.
She'll come down and take you home.
I didn't want her to know anything about this.
I may have to go to the gas chamber.
It'll make her feel bad.
You shouldn't have called her.
It's no use.
Let's go back to the office.
His mother ought to be there by now.
All right.
Romero, you want to stay with the boy?
All right.
You better go out and find that body.
Come on, Joe.
I killed that old man.
You can't say I didn't.
My boy's a pathological liar.
Well, it looks that way.
Probably an inferiority complex.
This is the way of making himself important.
Well, we all know he didn't kill anybody,
but I wonder if he's got something else in his mind, huh?
How do you do?
You're Mrs. Waterman?
Yes.
Inspector Bowling?
Yes, ma'am.
This is Sergeant Friday.
How do you do, ma'am?
How do you do?
I have to excuse my appearance.
I slept a little late today.
We've got your boy down the hall.
He's all right.
Trying to get us to swallow a few tall stories.
Yeah.
He's like that.
What did he tell you?
He tried to give us a story about killing somebody.
Well, I'm not surprised.
This isn't the first time.
I never understand that kid.
Has your boy ever been in a car accident?
No.
He's been in a car accident.
I never understand that kid.
Has your boy ever been in an institution, Mrs. Waterman?
No, he's not bad.
He just likes to lie all the time.
He's an awful liar.
Went to his high school principal the other day, told him his father and I beat him.
We wouldn't give him any lunch money.
Where is your husband?
He has a newspaper concession on one of the railroad trains.
How often is he home?
Once a week, sometimes every two weeks.
It's the only business he knows.
Yes, ma'am.
Maybe that's the reason the kid's away is, my mom always used to tell me a kid needs
his father.
Still, whenever my hubby's home, he always does the right thing.
Arnold started telling these lies a long time ago, ever since his father found out he catches
it.
How do you mean?
Good strapping.
That's all a kid like him understands.
His father knows how to handle him.
Whenever he lies, he takes the strap to him.
You think that's the best way to handle him?
Don't you?
Well, you know what you're doing, Mrs. Waterman.
He's your son.
But if you wouldn't mind a little advice, do you mind my telling you?
No, not at all.
Well, that boy needs care and he needs it bad.
The strap's not the answer.
He needs attention, good supervision, and a lot of companionship.
I'm not conducting a class in child psychology, but care for that boy of yours.
Care for him before the state has to.
It's just those stories he hits.
That's what's wrong with him.
He came home the other night with a wildest tale I ever heard.
Yes, ma'am.
Said he threw green paint all over somebody's office.
Ben and I drove out to the Waterman home.
We checked through the boy's belongings.
His mother showed us his room.
In his closet, we found a pair of corduroy trousers, a white t-shirt, and other articles of his clothing
spattered with the same shade of green paint that had been found in the office and furnishings of Attorney Paul Wilson.
We asked Mrs. Waterman where her son Arnold was on Sunday night, April 9th,
the night that the office had been broken into and smeared with paint.
She told us she didn't know, but that he came home that night with paint on his clothing.
Ben and I went back to the office where we filed an application for a petition in detention,
Section 700 Sub MWIC, a malicious mischief, one count.
Two days later, in juvenile court, the calendar was called.
Arnold Waterman's name was first on the list.
The judge, the subject, and all those concerned in the case retired to the judge's private chambers,
Ben and I, Arnold Waterman, and his mother.
The subject was informed of his constitutional rights,
and Judge Frank J. Smith read the findings of our investigation.
Now, you're to ledgers in this petition that on April 9th at approximately 8.30 p.m.,
you entered the office of Attorney Paul Wilson at 9218 West 103rd Street,
where you willfully and without Mr. Wilson's permission did maliciously damage his office
to the extent of approximately $1,800 by pouring paint over his rugs,
furniture, books, and other articles in his offices.
Is this to Arnold?
Yes, sir.
Did you know Mr. Wilson?
No.
Arnold, I'd like to know why you did that.
I felt like it.
You have to give me a better answer than that, youngster.
That's the best I can do. That's good enough, isn't it?
No, it isn't good enough.
We have a courtroom full of boys outside who probably want to be helped,
and we're going to try to help them.
We can't help you unless you want to be helped.
You don't want to help me. You don't believe anything I tell you.
Officer Fryder.
Yes, Your Honor.
You and Officer Romero investigated this case from its inception?
We did.
As a result of your investigation, what's your opinion of this boy's truthfulness?
Well, Your Honor, I think I can speak for Officer Romero here as well.
In all our talks with the boy and our observations of him,
it's our opinion for what it's worth.
The boy's a pathological liar.
Basically, he seems to have the makings of a good youngster.
His environment's bad.
He seems to have very little, if any, parental guidance.
He tells lies, Your Honor. Lots of them.
That seems to be everyone's opinion.
It's not mine.
If you'd spend more time trying to find out if I'm lying
instead of trying to put me on the spot, you'd earn your money.
Your stories have been thoroughly investigated
and double-checked by competent police officers.
There is absolutely no basis of truth in anything you've said.
I'm getting sick and tired of everybody calling me a liar.
Do you hear me?
Young man, sit down in that chair.
We review a great many juvenile cases here in my private chambers,
but that does not alter the fact that you are in a court of law.
You will lower your voice, speak in a gentlemanly fashion, and tell the truth.
Is that understood?
Yes, sir.
Mrs. Waterman, could you give this court any reason for your son's behavior?
It's a mystery to me, Judge.
Fred, that's his father. He can't understand it either.
He's always lied.
His father beats him for it, and I guess he'll always lie.
That's all you can say on your son's behavior?
What else is there to say? He's a liar.
Arnold, I'm going to ask you once more.
Why did you smear paint all over Attorney Paul Wilson's office?
I didn't like him.
Why didn't you like him?
I didn't like him, that's all.
Tall, skinny, funny-looking guy.
You mean you destroyed his property because you didn't like his looks?
Something like that.
He was cheap. I saw him moving in. He had a trailer.
He was moving his own stuff in.
Why didn't he hire a mover like everybody else?
I don't like cheap people.
Do you know anything about this man, Wilson?
No. Why?
What business was it of yours whether or not Mr. Wilson decided to move his own furniture?
Do you know that he's a young man, not much older than you?
He just graduated from law school, took a lot of time, took a lot of his money.
He earned to put himself through school, and you sit there a mere sketch of a boy passing judgment on a fine young man like Paul Wilson.
Boy, let me tell you something.
I don't know if you're a God-fearing lad or not, but you'd better fall on your knees and ask forgiveness and hope that somebody hears you,
that he hasn't lost patience with you.
You'd better raise up those sights of yours, lad, and pray for forgiveness.
I hope those tears mean something.
Now, do you have anything to say before I pass judgment on this case?
Yes, sir, I have.
I'd like to tell you about something else I did.
There were some palm trees out there. I put kerosene on them and set them on fire.
Last Friday, would you know anything about this?
Yes, your honor, that checks with the reports.
Any property damage?
No, your honor. Kept the fire department pretty busy, that's about all.
I didn't kill anybody. I just made that up.
Yes, we know, Arnold.
Do you have anything else to add, Mrs. Waterman?
No, I don't know what else you can do with a kid. I'm glad it's somebody else's problem.
According to the findings of the probationary officers and the investigating officers
and what I've heard and observed in these chambers, I have no alternative
but to remove this boy from his present home and environment
and place him in a foster home where he will receive closer supervision
and the care that he requires.
Does that meet with your approval, Mrs. Waterman?
It's fine with me, Judge.
Fred and I can hardly make ends meet now,
and it's a shame to waste what money we have on this kid.
That's all I can do to squeeze out the new clothes I need.
Then you approve this plan.
I can't wait to tell Fred.
Well, when you tell Fred, you can also tell him the taxpayers are not going to assume
the burden of the mistakes that you and your husband lavished on this boy.
What do you mean, Judge?
The expense of placing the boy in this foster home comes to the amount of $35 a month.
You and your husband will pay this sum. The law covers that.
That's an awful lot of money.
The payment will be due on the first day of each month.
You will meet this requirement or be held in contempt of court.
I'm only sorry that's as far as the law goes.
The laws of the state of California do not make the parents responsible for the thoughts of their children
unless contributory negligence can be proven.
In my eyes, it is contributory negligence on your part,
but unfortunately it cannot be proven.
Any faults that this boy may have are yours.
You as a parent are responsible.
We did the best we could in raising the kid.
Madam, you didn't raise him.
Hearing is dismissed.
The story you have just heard was true.
Only the names were changed to protect the innocent.
On April 18th, the hearing was held in the private chambers of Judge Frank J. Smith,
Juvenile Court, Sideon County of Los Angeles, State of California.
You have just heard the results of that hearing.
And now here is our star, Jack Webb.
Thank you.
The working detective in the process of apprehending criminals
devotes his full time and energy to the job,
his alertness, intelligence, and a great amount of patience.
So with a cigarette.
The makers of Fatima cigarettes employ these same qualities
in blending the finest Turkish and domestic tobaccos to make Fatima extra mild.
Best of all, long cigarettes.
Now if you're a long cigarette smoker like I am, then buy Fatima.
You'll find as I have that every pack is extra mild.
Smoke Fatima.
Next week, Thursday, August 24th,
Dragnet will be heard one hour earlier at 9 p.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time.
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. Parker,
Los Angeles Police Department.
Fatima cigarettes, the best of all, long cigarettes,
has brought you Dragnet from Los Angeles.
Now here's Sarah's private caper, September 7th, its father knows best, on NBC.
Music