The story you are about to hear is true.
Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
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Dozens of petty theft cases are reported in one of the residential areas in your city.
The victims, neighborhood businessmen.
The suspects, teenage high school students.
Your job, stop them.
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Dragnet, the documented drama of an actual crime.
For the next 30 minutes in cooperation with the Los Angeles Police Department, you will
travel step by step on the side of the law through an actual case transcribed from official
police files.
From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Dragnet is the story of your police force
in action.
Was Tuesday, February 4th, was cloudy in Los Angeles.
We were working a night watch out of juvenile bureau assigned to university division.
My partner's Ben Romero, the boss is Inspector Bowling.
My name's Friday.
We were on the way out from the office and it was 7.13 p.m. when we got to the corner
of South Waverly and Chester Avenue.
The grocery store.
Yes that's him back there to meet, Connor.
Yeah, come on.
Looks like he's getting ready to close up.
Yeah, I guess we just about made it in time, huh?
Excuse me, sir.
Yes, sir.
Help your gentleman.
We're looking for Henry Loomis.
Yes, sir, that's my name.
Police officers, Mr. Loomis.
My name's Friday.
I believe I talked to you on the phone.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
This is my partner, Sergeant Romero.
Hi, Mr. Romero.
I wonder if you'd mind waiting a half a minute, officer, just getting a little book work straightened
out here.
Today's receipts.
Yeah, I'll go right in.
Well, it'll take but a minute.
Let's see here.
Uh-huh.
Thirty-seven.
Forty-five.
Thirty-seven.
Uh-huh.
There we go.
Ain't that lousy book work.
Going to get a girl to come in and do it one of these days.
Let's go up front here and talk.
All right, sir, fine.
Pull up a couple of stools there.
Might as well be comfortable.
Yes, thank you.
Thank you, sir.
Have you talked to any of the other merchants in the neighborhood yet?
No, sir, not yet.
We'd like to find out what you have to tell us first.
Well, it's one of those high school kids, I can tell you that.
I'm sure of it.
I don't want to sound like an old grouse, but this stealing's got to stop.
You get quite a bit of business from the high school trade, do you?
At the new hour and then just after school, that's out.
Usually have quite a bunch of them in here around those times.
Uh-huh.
Do you especially cater to the high school crowd?
I mean, do you serve lunch here or anything like that?
No, I don't.
I usually get the kids to take their lunch.
They come in and buy soda water or milk to drink with their sandwiches.
They seem like such a nice class of kids.
I didn't think they were thieves.
Well, how long has this stealing been going on, Mr. Loomis?
I'd say about 10 days, two weeks.
It's not very hard for them to get away with it.
Fifteen or 20 kids crowd in here during noon hour.
I'm usually busy up at the counter.
It's no great trick for any one of them to make off with a couple of dollars worth of
merchandise.
You say this happens just about every day?
Every day the kids are in here, yeah.
I tried playing detective myself for a while, trying to catch the giddily ones.
Didn't do much good.
Uh-huh.
As long as this stealing's been going on, Mr. Loomis, is it every month more than just
a few dollars' worth of food every day?
I know, that's the funny part of it, Sergeant.
When I check back on my inventories, it's always just about the same amount.
A few cans of meat, vegetables, butter, a few loaves of bread.
It's not so much the value of this stuff.
I just don't like the idea of some kid making a fool out of me day after day.
Has your cash register ever been tampered with, you know?
I mean, any money stolen?
No, sir, that's another thing I can't understand.
If a kid's gonna turn thief, you'd think he'd go after the cash.
Whoever's doing it, they've never tried anything like that here.
Well, how about some of the other merchants in the neighborhood, sir?
You mentioned on the phone there were a couple of others having the same trouble that you
are.
Yes, sir, there's George Bofe.
He's the newspaper distributor, and there's Collins.
He's got the grocery place up the street.
You can talk to them.
I gave you their addresses on the phone, didn't I?
Yes, sir, you did.
Just one more thing, Mr. Loomis.
About this crowd of high school boys that hang around here, any of them in particular,
you might suspect?
As a matter of fact, there is.
I certainly can't prove anything, but I just have a feeling about it.
I don't like the boy.
Just one boy, sir?
Yes, sir, there may be more than one that's guilty, but this young fellow, I'm pretty sure
of.
What's his name?
I hear the kids call him Harry, red-haired boy, curly red hair, tall, a few freckles.
It won't be hard to get his last name if we need it.
Is there anything else you can think of that we ought to know?
You go up the street and talk to the other two men, Sergeant, George Bofe and Collins.
They might have something more for you.
I think I've told you about everything.
All right, Mr. Loomis, I've got your home phone here.
If we want to contact you later tonight, I'll call you there.
Is that all right?
Perfectly all right.
Here's our card, sir.
You can call us at that number there anytime, all right?
Thank you.
What do you think's behind the whole thing, Sergeant, this cheap stealing, nickel and
dime stuff?
I don't know, sir.
We'll try and find out for you.
It just doesn't make sense stealing like that day after day.
You'd think even a kid would know that you can't go on stealing forever.
Yes, sir, a lot of them give it a try.
From the very start, the whole pattern of the case and the thief's method of operation
made little or no sense at all.
The thefts had been going on for more than two weeks, and they'd all taken place in a
12-square block area.
In each of the two dozen cases reported to us, not one of the thefts had been for more
than $5, either in cash or merchandise.
The thief's scene of operation included two grocery stores, a drug store, coin boxes attached
to the newsstands in the neighborhood, and a five-and-ten-cent variety store.
With one exception, all of the cases involved theft of merchandise only.
The breaking open of coin boxes attached to newsstands was the single instance in which
money was taken.
The total sum was less than $3.50.
7.40 p.m.
Ben and I left the grocery store and went up the street to the home of George Brophy.
He was the neighborhood newspaper distributor who operated the coin box newsstands which
had been broken into.
Well, I think you can just about count on it, Sergeant.
It's one of the kids in the neighborhood doing all this.
Either that or a couple of them are working together.
What makes you so sure about it, Mr. Brophy?
Well, for one thing, we got more in our share of kids out this way.
A lot of them are from poor families, underprivileged, you might say.
I guess they figure it's one way of picking up extra spending money.
I got nothing against kids myself.
A few nickels they get out of those boxes, I wouldn't prosecute them for that.
Well, sir, that's not exactly it.
The point is they're stealing.
If they get away with this small-time stuff, they might figure they're ripe for something
bigger.
Probably be the best thing in the world for them if we can stop them now and set them
on the right track, you see.
Yeah.
Put in with you there, Sergeant.
I don't know how much I can help you, though.
Do you have any idea at all who it might be that's breaking into the coin boxes?
Well, like I say, I have nothing against any kid myself, but there is one of them around
the neighborhood I've been a little suspicious about, a red-headed kid.
What's he look like, you know?
Red hair, freckled face, kind of tall and gangly, typical high school kid.
Old Loomis down at the grocery store, he's been a little leery about the same kid, too.
Well, why do you single out this red-haired boy, Mr. Brophy?
Well, he...
Oh, excuse me, I better grab a lot of him.
Yes.
Hello.
Oh, yeah, Maggie, hi.
Four of them.
When are they born?
Is that right?
That's right.
Born this morning.
Four of them, huh?
Yeah, yeah, just a minute, I'll call them.
Ah, Grace.
Yeah, honey?
It's for you, Maggie Harris.
Okay, thanks.
Excuse me, officer.
A friend of my wife's, her cat just had four kittens.
Oh, I see.
Oh, where were we?
Oh, yeah, about the kid.
Yes, sir, what do you suspect?
Well, there's a couple reasons, Sergeant.
Late one night when I was making my collections, I spotted the boy hanging around one of the
newsstands.
Didn't look like he had any business there that time of night.
He looked up and saw me coming, he turned and ducked down a side street.
Well, do you have any idea where this boy lives, Mr. Brophy?
No, can't say I do.
He goes to that high school a few blocks up on South Waverly, I know that.
It's the same boy that the grocer man had his eye on.
You said there were a couple of reasons why you were suspicious of this boy, Mr. Brophy?
Yeah, well, this other thing doesn't mean too much.
There wasn't anything really wrong with it.
It just seemed a little queer, that's all.
What was that?
Well, I dropped in at the safety liquor store down the street last week.
I wanted to pick up a little something.
I saw the same kid in there.
He was asking Benny, the guy who runs the place, if he'd sell him a fifth of bourbon.
I heard the kid saying it was supposed to be for his father.
His father was sick and couldn't come in.
Of course, Benny turned him down.
He wouldn't sell it to the kid.
And that was the extent of it, huh?
Yeah, that's all.
There wasn't anything wrong with it.
Kid didn't insist.
I thought it was just a little lot of lines sending a kid after liquor.
Well, that's about the size of it.
How about some of the other merchants in the neighborhood who have been bothered by these
petty thefts?
Do you know if any of them are suspicious of this boy?
No, I wouldn't know that.
Henry Loomis, not the stores, but they all know.
Well, thanks very much, Mr. Brophy.
If anything else comes up, you can get us at the number on this card here.
Oh, okay, sir.
Fine.
If I can help at all to clear this thing up, I'd be glad to do it.
Well, we'll probably be checking back with you, and thanks again, sir.
Sure is funny, the whole thing.
I got a big laugh out of it.
Sir?
Oh, I mean the friend of my wife called Maggie Harris.
Cat had four kittens, like I told you.
Sure got a big laugh out of that.
I kept telling her she wouldn't believe me.
What's that, sir?
Well, she thought the cat was a male.
The next morning, Ben and I continued checking with various merchants and residents in the
neighborhood where the series of petty thefts were taking place.
We located and questioned one more shopkeeper who was suspicious of the tall red-haired
boy known as Harry.
That afternoon, we went to the high school on South Waverly Avenue to check on him.
From his first name and his description, he was identified by the boy's vice principal
as Harry Thomas Dunbar.
He was 18 years old and a sophomore with an average scholastic record.
We were told that Dunbar had left the grounds about half an hour before with the high school's
basketball team.
The group was headed for one of the local sports pavilions where the team had one of
its more important games scheduled for that afternoon.
Harry Dunbar was in charge of selling the printed programs for the game.
Ben and I drove out to the sports pavilion and checked with one of the boys collecting
tickets at the door.
He told us we'd find Harry Dunbar inside at the program stand.
These high school kids sure take their basketball seriously, don't they?
Yeah, big turnout, sounds like.
We're going to be lucky if we can find that boy in this crowd.
You see him anywhere?
No.
Which side is the program stand supposed to be on?
Well, there's a lot of them along and through here on both sides.
I guess we better start checking them out.
Yeah.
Joe.
Yeah.
That stand back there on the left, you see?
Redheaded kid?
Yeah, let's check him.
Okay.
Programs, dime.
Complete programs for the game, 10 cents.
Excuse me, son.
Program, mister?
You're Harry Dunbar?
Yeah, that's right.
Well, please, officers, Harry.
We'd like to talk to you for a few minutes if it's all right.
Oh, well, I can't talk to you now.
I'm pretty busy selling these programs here.
Then suppose we wait a few minutes, son.
See, you only have a few left there to sell.
No, I wouldn't do any good waiting.
When I sell these, I got something else to do.
It's only going to take a few minutes of your time, Harry.
We won't keep you long.
What is it, officer?
What do you want to talk to me about?
Just have a few questions for you, son.
That's all.
Can you step out in the lobby with us for just a minute?
What's it all about?
I'd like to know.
I guess you shouldn't not talk about it out here.
Oh, all right.
We can go up this ramp here.
All right.
There's a hallway back here.
Runs underneath the stands.
Won't be so noisy.
Fine, we won't keep you long.
Just a few routine questions.
This ought to do okay.
What is it you want to know about?
Do you know a Mr. Loomis Harry runs a grocery store near the high school?
Yeah, old man Loomis.
I go down to his store and eat lunch sometimes.
Why?
Mr. Collins, he runs another store near the high school.
Yeah, I know the place.
Sometimes I go there too.
A bunch of the kids hang around there during lunchtime.
We've had quite a few complaints from Collins and Loomis, some of the other stores in the
neighborhood too.
We're checking on some of them.
Thought maybe you could help us out, Harry.
No, I couldn't help you any.
Mr. Collins and that old man Loomis, they don't like us.
They want to get us in trouble.
I think they're lying.
Lying about what?
About us kids stealing things out of their stores.
I bet they even told you I'm stealing things from them.
Are you Harry?
Of course not.
They can't say any of us stole things.
They don't know.
They can't prove anything.
Do you know the man that distributes newspapers in your neighborhood, son, and Mr. Brophy?
Who?
Mr. Brophy.
Some of the coin boxes on his newsstands have been broken into.
He thought maybe you could tell us something about that.
Why me?
I don't know any Mr. Brophy.
Well, he knows you, Harry.
He saw you hanging around one of the newsstands one night and there's something else.
He saw you trying to buy a bottle of liquor in the neighborhood.
Is that right?
We've had three or four reports on you, son.
What'd he say?
He won't tell us about it?
They're crazy.
I haven't done anything.
Well, then you got nothing to worry about, son.
I won't tell you anything.
We got Ben.
Here, grab it.
I got him.
All right.
Hold it up, son.
Let me go.
Take it easy, Uncle.
I haven't done anything.
I haven't.
Now let me go, please.
I haven't done anything.
Why'd you try to run away?
I have to get home.
I gotta get home right away.
All right, son.
We'll take you there.
No, you can't go with me.
I have to go alone.
I'm afraid we're gonna have to hold on to you, Harry.
What is it?
I tried to tell him I couldn't do everything.
I tried, but it didn't work out.
I can't do everything.
What do you mean, son?
Take me home.
I'll let them tell you.
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run by Mr. Loomis. He admitted he was responsible. He said he'd been stealing things from the store for more than a month.
We asked the boy about the petty thefts from the grocery store operated by Mr. Collins. Again he told us he was responsible.
He also admitted stealing from the neighborhood drug store and the variety store, in addition to breaking into the coin boxes on the self-service newsstands.
In each instance he described his method of operation. He estimated that over a period of some four and a half weeks he'd stolen approximately $50 in merchandise and about $5 in cash.
We asked him why. He refused to answer.
You must have had a reason for doing all this hearing. Why don't you tell us? We're going to find out sooner or later.
Sorry, officer. It's the next turn to your left.
Okay. What's the matter, son? You afraid of what your folks are going to say?
No, that's not it. I never stole anything in my life till this time.
When I started in I didn't think of it as stealing. It's something I had to do. That's all. I couldn't help it.
That doesn't make much sense, Harry. What do you mean you couldn't help it?
It's the truth. You've got to believe me. There wasn't anything else I could do.
Well, what was it then? Was somebody forcing you to steal?
No. Can't you just believe me? It's something I had to do.
Sergeant, can't you let me off here? I'll walk home the rest of the way. I promise you I'll come and see you tomorrow.
You know we couldn't do that, son. You've already admitted stealing from a half a dozen stores in the neighborhood,
breaking into those coin boxes. It's going to have to be straightened out one way or the other.
But I can pay them back for what I took. I got a job. I'll pay back every one of them.
I believe you, son, but there's still a lot of explaining that's going to have to be done.
This is the 1500, bro, Harry. Want to point out your house for us? Son?
Can't we fix it up some other way? We don't have to go to my house, do we?
The sooner you fix it, the better. Now, how about it?
Keep on going. It's the way down the end of the block.
Well, now, which is it, son? There's no houses beyond this. It's just that shack down there.
That's my house.
Okay, Harry.
Maybe I better go in first to see if everything's all right.
It'll be all right. We'll come with you.
Ben and I followed the boy up the stairs and into the house.
From the outside, it looked run down and badly in need of painting.
On the inside, it still looked in fair condition except for the housekeeping.
The floor of the living room was littered with sand and dirt.
The floor was covered with dirt.
A few pieces of furniture didn't look much better.
A card table set in one corner was crowded with dirty dishes and scraps of half-eaten food.
Across the room was a baby in a crib.
Couldn't have been more than a few months old.
Apparently, the bedclothes in the crib hadn't been changed for days.
Next to the crib huddled in an army cot, underneath a bed, was a stack of trash.
hadn't been changed for days. Next to the crib huddled in an army cot, underneath a
few thin blankets was a dark-haired little girl, maybe two, two and a half years old.
Her face was thin and pale. She was asleep. Through an open door we could see into the
next room where a woman was lying on a couch. There was an empty glass and a newly opened
bottle of whiskey on the nightstand.
You should have let me come in first, officers. I would have had a chance to clean up a little.
Kids mess up the house, you know.
Harry, is that you, Harry?
That's my mother. Rest in little, I guess.
This is the baby in the crib. His name's Jerry.
That's my little sister on the cot there. Her name's Annie.
Get your mother out here, will you, son? We want to talk to her.
Don't get mad at her, will you? Mom's had a tough time lately. She tries to do her best.
What's the matter with the kids here, son? Have they been sick?
Baby had a cold, but I got that medicine from the drugstore. He seems to be okay.
I'm not so sure about Annie, though. She had a bad cold. Doesn't seem to be getting over it.
You want to take a look, man?
Yeah.
Get your mother up, son.
Yeah. All right.
Hey, Ma. Ma, get up, will you?
What is it? Who'd you bring home with you?
A couple of policemen. They want to talk to you.
What'd you bring them in for? Close the door there. I have to fix up a little.
My mother'll be right out, officer. All right, son.
Joe? Yeah?
We better get to her phone right away. It looks pretty bad. What is it?
Baby needs a doctor. A little girl here. I hope she does, too. What?
I'm not sure she's alive.
An ambulance was called immediately, and Harry Dunbar's two-year-old sister Annie and his baby brother were both rushed to the general hospital.
The mother, identified as Mrs. Florence Dunbar, was taken downtown and booked at the main jail on a drunk charge.
Six forty-five p.m. We took the boy, Harry Dunbar, over to Ben's house.
We put in a call to the general hospital to check on his little sister Annie and his infant brother.
They told us both the children were suffering from malnutrition.
The little girl, Annie, had double pneumonia.
Miraculously, the baby seemed to have been spared. He was sick, but his condition wasn't considered serious.
After Ben's wife fed him dinner, eighteen-year-old Harry Dunbar sat down and told us the story.
Three months before, his father had deserted the family.
His mother had made a pretense at supporting Harry and the two babies and then gave it up in favor of drinking.
The whole burden of keeping a family alive was piled on the youngster's shoulders.
Besides school, he had three odd jobs that he worked at to earn enough money to pay the rent, the gas and light bill, food, and general necessities.
It wasn't enough, so he had to take to stealing.
His mother wouldn't work, but at the same time she wouldn't let the boy apply for charity.
He slept at Ben's house that night. The next morning at juvenile bureau, he gave us the rest of the story.
I guess it got too much for me. I don't know. I could sneak the food and medicine from the stores, all right,
but I couldn't seem to get enough money together. The rent bill and all that. Kids needed clothes, too.
Why wouldn't your mother let you apply for help, son, some of the local charity?
I'd never go for that, officer. She'd get mad when I talked about it, said she had too much pride to take charity.
Did your mother know that you were stealing the food and medicine that you used to bring home?
I don't know. I guess so. I wouldn't be so mad at her, but every time I got some money together to pay bills, she wanted me to buy whiskey for her.
She begged so much, I couldn't say no.
We're having your mother brought over from the main jail, Harry. We'd like to find out if we can't locate your father.
We want to check outside, Ben, and see if they've brought Ms. Dunbar over yet.
Okay, thank you.
How about the kids, Officer Annie, and the baby? How they doing?
I checked the hospital, Harry. The doctor's going to call us as soon as he can.
Ma should have known better. Poor little kids. I could take care of myself, but they had to depend on her.
She'd only stop drinking.
Go right in, Ms. Dunbar.
Harry, you all right, son? What have they been doing to you?
I'm all right, ma. Don't hang on me like that.
I was worried about you, Harry, you and the kids. I'm sorry they got sick. I didn't know. It's just bad luck, Harry.
We got to stick together, you and me.
There's a chair here, ma. Sit down, huh?
Joan, the hospital called. They took the message outside. Here you are.
Thank you.
The hospital, Officer? About Annie and the baby?
Yeah, that's right, son. About your little sister Annie.
What about her? What did the doctor say?
Well, it's not good, Harry. The doctor called and said Annie had pneumonia.
Pneumonia.
She'd be all right, though, huh? To take care of her?
Well, it's not that way, son. I mean, the doctor said, oh, look, you tell him what to do.
What is it? What about Annie?
We got a right to know. She's my little girl.
Sergeant, you can tell me.
You want to sit down, Harry?
Yes, sir?
Annie died ten minutes ago. The doctors tried, and they couldn't help.
Annie dead?
That's right, son.
She's only a little kid. She's only two years old.
Harry. Harry, son. Poor little Annie.
Why did it have to be her, my own little girl? My own little Annie.
Be good to me, son. I don't know how I can stand it. My own little girl Annie.
Go outside, Ma. Go outside.
No, Harry. I need you. I need you more than ever, son.
Be good to me. We have to stick together now. We got to love one another.
All right, Miss Dunn.
No. I need Harry. He's all I got. Aren't you, son?
It's so hard sometimes. Everything's against us.
Lord only knows I've tried.
We've got to try to be happy to stay together and love one another.
Lord only knows...
Will you shut up, Ma?
Harry, don't blame me, son. We've got to try to be happy.
I blame you. Anybody blame you. You killed her. Poor little kid. You killed Annie.
Harry, don't say it. Don't say it.
I will say it, Ma. You did it. The whole terrible thing. Annie's dead. You did it.
Don't you know what I mean?
No, son. Don't hurt me.
All right, Harry. Now take it easy.
You know her, too, don't you? She did it. Her and her whiskey and her drinking and laying around, not even caring about the kids.
I tried to tell you, Ma. It's the least you could have done. Take care of the kids. See they're all right.
You had to drink. It wouldn't work. You had to lay around. Don't you understand? I couldn't do it all. I tried. I couldn't do it all.
You had to go on drinking and lay there and watch Annie die.
Please, son. Don't say that. We've got to love each other. I wouldn't hurt Annie. You know your mother would never do that.
You're not my mother. You're not anybody's mother.
You don't know what you're saying. Harry, I'm your mother.
Lord knows I've tried to be a good mother. You don't mean what you're saying.
Goodbye, Ma. I hope I never have to see you again.
Harry, please, don't go.
Ben, you better go get her.
You wouldn't believe me, Sergeant. Lord knows I've tried.
It's not easy, a husband deserting you the way Charlie did. Three kids on your hands. What could I do?
Yes, ma'am.
Harry ought to understand. I tried. Lord knows it's the best anybody can do. Just try and hope for the best.
Yes, ma'am. I've only got one question.
Yes?
How hard did you try?
The story you have just heard was true. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent.
On April 23rd, trial was held in Municipal Court, City and County of Los Angeles, State of California.
In a moment, the results of that trial.
Now here is our star, Jack Webb.
Thank you. Friends, I have here a pack of Fatimas. Inside, of course, 20 king-size Fatima cigarettes.
Now Fatimas are the same length and circumference as other king-size cigarettes, and Fatima filters the smoke the same long distance.
But only inside this golden yellow package do you get Fatima quality.
That's right. Fatima gives you all the advantages of extra length plus Fatima quality, which no other king-size cigarette has.
Next time, buy Fatima.
Eighteen-year-old Harold Dunbar was filed on in juvenile court.
After the hearing, the court directed that the two Dunbar children be placed in a foster home.
Mrs. Dunbar was permanently deprived of the custody of her children.
You have just heard Dragnet, a series of authentic cases from official files.
Technical advice comes from the Office of Chief of Police, W.H. Parker, Los Angeles Police Department.
Fatima cigarettes, best of all long cigarettes, has brought you Dragnet, transcribed from Los Angeles.
Stay tuned for Counterspy, next over NBC.