The story you are about to hear is true.
The names have been changed to protect the innocent.
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You're a detective sergeant, you're assigned a juvenile division.
A steady supply of obscene literature is finding its way into a half a dozen high schools in
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You get a lead on one of the sources of supply, a 17-year-old high school senior.
Your job, pick him up.
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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 Wednesday, November 8th, was windy in Los Angeles.
We were working the day watch out a juvenile division.
My partner's Ed Jacobs, the boss is Captain Stein.
My name's Friday.
It was 1105 AM when we got to the basement floor of Gorman High School, the locker room.
Which way, Steve?
You want to show us which locker's yours?
You still haven't told me what this is all about.
Routine checks, son.
Yeah, but why do you have to pick on me?
Why do you have to see my locker?
We're not picking on you, Steve.
Now, how about it?
Which locker's yours?
Right here.
This is mine, 318.
Here's the key.
No, you open it, Steve.
Just a couple of personal things of mine, that's all.
All right, I'll open it.
Well, there you are.
See for yourself.
Want to take your things out of the locker, son?
You can see what's in there, can't you?
My gym stuff, a couple of textbooks.
How about digging back in the corner, left-hand side there?
Where?
You know what I mean.
Come on, Steve, dig them out.
Back here, you mean these joke books?
That's right.
Let's have a look, huh?
Why, just a couple of joke books.
A kid gave them to me.
Bring them out, Steve.
Okay.
Just a couple of them.
Kid gave them to me.
There.
Looks like more than a couple.
That's what you call a joke book, Steve.
That's what the kids call them, yeah.
Some of them are a little dirty.
Not so bad, though.
They're filthy, Steve, and you know it.
Now, where'd you get them?
I told you.
Kid gave them to me.
Who?
What's his name?
Some kid around school.
I don't remember right now.
Gave you these books for nothing?
Sure.
I had a couple he wanted.
We traded off.
A lot of the kids have them.
They trade them around.
That stack you got there, they look pretty new.
Couldn't have been passed around much.
Maybe not.
I don't know.
Matter of fact, they look brand new, don't they?
Don't even look like they've been opened yet.
How come you're rousing me on this thing?
What about the other kids?
They got them, too.
They're buying them, Steve.
They're not selling them.
I'm not selling them.
Anybody says that's a liar?
No, good, son.
We talked to the fellows here at the high school.
Some kids over at the junior high school, too.
They all say you're the one who's selling them.
They're liars.
Both the fellows in high school and the kids down the street in junior high, they say you've
been selling this stuff for months.
Now, how about it?
They're lying, that's all.
They don't know what they're talking about.
You've been selling these 35 cents apiece, three for a dollar.
Last couple of weeks, you've been peddling pictures, too, a dollar apiece.
You got any of them in your locker, Steve?
A couple.
I got them off another kid.
What other kid?
What's his name?
Some kid.
I don't remember.
That's not much of an answer, son.
What do you want from me, anyway?
I told you I'm not selling the books.
I don't care what those other goofs say.
It's my word against theirs.
Now, maybe you ought to get this straight, son.
We're not out to get you.
You're way down the line.
We want the people at the top, the men who print this junk, the wholesalers, the big distributors.
So why ask me?
I don't know anything about it, nothing.
You don't want to cooperate, is that it?
What am I supposed to cooperate about?
I'm not mixed up in anything.
We think you are, son.
We know you are.
Who are you selling this for?
Where do you get your supply?
All you see is what's in my locker.
I ain't selling.
I don't have any supply.
You got to go far to prove I have.
Not very far, Steve.
What?
From about here to your home.
11.38 a.m.
After picking up his supply of obscene books and photographs to be booked later as evidence,
Ed and I drove the subject, Stephen Banner, to his home approximately a mile from the
high school.
His apprehension and our theory that he probably kept the bulk of his supply of books and pictures
at or near his home was no accident.
For weeks we've known that a steady stream of pornography was being fed into a half a
dozen high schools and junior high schools throughout the city.
Books, photographs, pictures, and pamphlets of the worst kind.
Because of embarrassment on the part of the curious teenage kids who bought this stuff,
it wasn't easy to pick up a solid lead.
After weeks of observation and questioning, we finally narrowed down the principal source
of supply to a single teenage boy, Stephen Banner.
Even then we knew he must be only one of a hundred small-time distributors working for
the persons directly responsible for manufacturing this sort of thing.
Our only hope was that he'd be willing and able to supply us with the names of the persons
responsible.
When we got to Stephen Banner's home, where he lived with his sister and brother-in-law,
we searched it thoroughly, but we found nothing.
Since his sister and brother-in-law were at work, we went back and started checking through
the garage at the rear of the house.
Joe, back here in the corner?
Yeah.
Have a look.
Steve, you want to tell us about this?
Yeah.
These books here?
These pictures, the case full of them?
Yeah.
Well, how about it, son?
Your sister and brother-in-law know about this?
No, they don't know anything.
I didn't think you'd find them.
Are you ready to tell us about it?
Is my sister going to have to find out?
I don't know, Steve.
It's going to be pretty hard to keep it from her.
Yeah, I guess so.
Who's the contact, son?
Where'd they come from?
Charlie.
Charlie Freiburg.
Only the books, though.
Pictures came from another guy.
It's a long story.
Well, we got the time, son.
Who is this Freiburg?
Met him downtown one Sunday, Penny Arcade on Broadway.
Me and this other kid were in there, Bud Spencer.
Freiburg came up, started to talk to us.
All right, go on.
He finally took a couple of these books out of his pocket, gave them to us.
He wanted to know what we thought of them.
Well, he had plenty of them.
We knew any other kids who wanted them.
You knew you and your friend Bud were in high school?
Yeah, that's right.
What else, Steve?
Well, that's about it.
He asked me and Bud if we wanted to sell for them around school.
His friend of yours, Bud Spencer, he's selling them, too?
Yeah.
He goes to a different school, though.
Both of us did pretty good with the books.
Sold real fast.
The pictures are even better.
So you say you didn't get the pictures from Freiburg, there was somebody else?
A man by the name of Jack.
I don't know his last name.
Freiburg put us onto him, gave us an introduction, set up the deal.
We got the pictures for 75 cents.
Most of the time they got us a dollar, dollar and a half a piece.
Bud and I did pretty good.
You know any other fellows working for this Freiburg, Steve?
Any other kids in school?
No, just Bud and me.
That's all I know.
It wouldn't be so bad if it were just the books, that lousy Charlie.
He had to go and promote the party routine, get everybody mixed up in that.
What do you mean?
What's that all about?
Charlie.
He stays at this place out on Sepulveda.
It's a motel.
That's where we always contacted him.
Yeah.
After a couple of weeks when we got to know him, he asked me and Bud out to this place.
Said he was going to throw a party.
Told us to bring our girlfriends along.
Turned out we were the only ones at the party.
Me and Bud and the girls and Charlie Freiburg.
Party lasted pretty late.
I should have been smart enough to figure it out.
I wasn't.
What do you mean, Steve?
Figure out what?
Why Charlie be throwing parties just for us.
The first two times there wasn't anything wrong.
We just talked, danced with the girls, drank some beer.
Charlie told us to have a good time.
He threw a party every Friday night.
Never broke up till after three o'clock.
How old are your girlfriends, yours and Bud's?
Seventeen.
They're both seventeen.
They've been around though, no use kidding you.
They weren't very smart, I can tell you that.
None of us were, I guess.
Next couple of parties, Charlie had whiskey there.
Same girls drank right along with him, so did we.
Freiburg served the whiskey, didn't he?
Yeah, that's right.
He loaded the drinks, kept handing the girls a lot of stuff about how he used to be a director
in pictures.
He had a lot of connections in Hollywood.
The last party I was at, he said he was going to get the girls screen test.
A lot of malarkey like that.
What else, Steve?
I don't know.
I had a beef with Charlie about it when I walked out.
I haven't been back since.
Does he still throw these Friday night parties, do you know?
Maybe, I don't know.
There were three or four after the last one I walked out on.
Dumb girls think Charlie's just great.
God, so I can't stand the guy.
How about the parties you didn't show up for, Steve?
You get a rundown on them?
I heard a couple of things, yeah.
Sure glad I wasn't there.
How do you mean?
Dumb girls, never fails.
The oldest line in the world, they still go for it.
What's that?
Tell them you're going to get them in the movies.
We continued questioning the subject, 17-year-old Stephen Banner.
He gave us a full description of the man who'd been selling him the books, Charles Freiburg,
and also a description of the man known as Jack, the one who'd been supplying him with
pictures and photographs.
In addition, he gave us the addresses of the two men, a fair description of Freiburg's
car, no license number, and the names and addresses of the two girls he and his friend
had taken to Freiburg's parties.
One 20 p.m.
Ed and I took the case of obscene books from the garage, loaded it in the backseat of our
car, and Stephen Banner directed us to the high school attended by his friend, Bud Spencer.
We picked up the Spencer boy and drove him and Banner downtown to Georgia Street Juvenile,
where we booked them in on 700B, welfare and institution code, lack of supervision.
We drove to the motel out on Sepulveda, but the suspect, Charles Freiburg, had moved out
five days before, no forwarding address.
It wasn't a dead end, though.
From his motel registration card, we got the description and license number of his car.
On the way into the office, we checked out the address of his confederate, the man known
as Jack.
He'd moved the same day as Freiburg, no forwarding address.
Back at the office, DMV got a make on the license number for us.
The car registered in Freiburg's name, 239 West 92nd Street.
We went down to R&I and pulled the package on the suspect, 340 p.m.
Last address on this three years old.
How's his record reading?
He's been in the business before, a couple of ag charges, a 311 charge too, possession
of obscene literature.
Served eight months in county jail.
Mugshot there?
Yeah, here.
Close enough to the way the boy described him.
I'd say so.
There's MO2.
Same pitch the last time they got him, working the high school trade, passed himself off
as a studio man, movie director.
How about the other man, Jack?
You got anything there?
Not yet.
I gave the information on him to the stats office.
They're going to make a run for us.
Well, I guess we better check on the kids' girlfriends, huh?
Get their stories.
Yeah, I suppose so.
It sure gets me, Joe.
What's that?
Very young girls like that, out at motel parties till 3 a.m. drinking.
Yeah.
Seventeen year olds, no reason for it, no reason at all.
Well, I can think of one that might do.
Their parents.
We checked out the suspect's address, furnished us by DMV and also the information from the
R&I package.
They went nowhere.
We had a second interview with Stephen Banner and his friend, Bud Spencer.
We showed them Freiburg's mugshot and both of them identified it.
We got out a broadcast and an APB on him.
Four twelve p.m. Together with policewoman Doreen Statesl, Ed and I drove out to interview
the two teenage girls involved, a Dorothy Ryan and a Laura Osborn.
We stopped at the home of the Osborn girl first, but she wasn't there and neither were
her parents.
An older sister told us that both the mother and father were working and that Laura was
at a neighborhood school for models taking her weekly lesson.
We checked at the modeling school, a converted second floor social hall where we finally
located the girl, a tall brunette, dark eyes, fair complexion.
The heavy makeup didn't do much to hide her age.
While the modeling lesson went on, policewoman Statesl, Ed and I talked to the girl off in
one corner of the hall.
Your friend, Steve Banner, he took you to those parties at Mr. Freiburg's place.
Uh-huh, that's right.
Very nice man.
He was always nice to Dorothy and me.
Dorothy Ryan, she came to the parties with Bud.
He's a friend of Steve Banner's.
You have no complaint to make about this Mr. Freiburg?
He never caused you trouble of any kind?
Charlie, well no.
I told you before that business about Steve getting mad just because Charlie told us he'd
get us in the movies.
Well it was silly, that's all plain silly.
Charlie was just helping us.
How do you mean Laura?
Well he's in Hollywood you know, Charlie Freiburg.
He has lots of connections.
He just wanted to help us get some good modeling jobs.
That's why I took our pictures, there was nothing wrong.
You continued going to these Friday night parties without the two boys, is that right?
Yes, Dorothy and me.
There wasn't anything wrong with it.
We knew Charlie as well as they did by that time.
A few bathing suit pictures, that's all.
There was nothing wrong in that.
Did you ever see prints of any of those pictures, either you or Dorothy Ryan?
No, but Charlie's gonna get us some, he promised he would.
You know where he is now?
No, he moved.
I haven't any idea where he is.
When's the last time you saw a Freiburg miss?
About ten days, two weeks ago.
What's this all about, officer?
Are you looking for Charlie?
How does he usually contact you, Laura, by phone?
Yeah, usually calls.
Has he called you lately?
Well, I don't know.
Why are you looking for him?
Can't you tell me?
Routine investigation, miss.
Oh, I'm sorry, I don't know where Charlie is.
Why can't you tell me why you want him?
We want him.
Why?
Can't you give me a reason?
This is one of the reasons, Laura, would you look at this picture?
Charlie took this?
It's his business, Laura, that's the way his police record reads.
I can't believe it.
That's one reason we want Freiburg, there's lots of others.
You willing to help us, Laura?
He said they'd be beautiful, glamorous, they're not.
You know where he stays now?
No, I'll find out, though.
How do you mean?
I've got a date with him, supposed to meet him out on Wilshire, Wilshire and La Brea.
When's that?
Eight o'clock tomorrow night.
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November 8th, Wednesday, 5.30 PM.
After our interview with 17 year old Laura Osborne, policewoman Doreen Statesall, Ed
and I drove to the home of Laura's girlfriend, Dorothy Ryan, who was also present at the
motel parties given by the suspect, Charles Freyberg.
Her story of what had happened was essentially the same as the one we got from the Osborne
girl.
That night we met with the parents of both girls.
They were well meaning and cooperative.
They admitted their mistake.
It was the same old story of lack of supervision and very little home life.
The parents told us that they had no idea of what had been going on or the late hours
that their teenage girls had been keeping.
Besides promising closer supervision of the girls, they told us they would notify us immediately
if the suspect Freyberg made any attempt to contact their daughters.
6.25 PM.
We got back to the office, put in a call to Stephen Banner's home and notified his sister
and brother-in-law that the boy was being held for further interrogation.
We also notified the parents of Bud Spencer.
The following morning, Ed and I went across the street to the district attorney's office,
presented our case and a warrant was issued on Charles Freyberg for 702WIC, contributing
to the delinquency of a minor.
At seven o'clock that night, Ed and I staked out on a cocktail lounge near the intersection
of Wilshire and La Brea, the place where the suspect had told Laura Osborne to meet him.
7.30, 7.45.
We waited.
I think maybe we were in business, Joe.
What?
Was Banner there waiting for the signal to change?
Dark suit, dark hat?
Yeah, could be.
Crossing over now, heading for the bar.
All right, let's go.
Mm-hmm.
No mistake.
Hey, fella, hold it up on me, will you?
How's that?
Police officer, is your name Freyberg?
What?
No, that's not my name.
Is your identification, please?
Yes, I've got my identification.
Why?
Can we see it, please?
Why, what do you want?
Your identification.
What for?
I haven't done anything.
Let's go, mister.
Talk about it downtown.
Wait a minute, just a minute.
I don't want any trouble.
I'll show you.
There, driver's license, rest of my stuff.
Charles Freyberg.
It's an old address, isn't it?
Yeah, I haven't had time to change it.
Just got back in town.
What's the matter, anyway?
Where are you staying, Freyberg?
No place.
I just got back in town.
I told you that.
Not staying any place yet.
No connections at all.
Where's your car?
I don't have one.
I'm going to the police station.
I'll be right back.
Okay.
You said you don't have a car, Freyberg.
Of course not.
I told you that.
What are you doing with that parking ticket?
We walked the suspect Freyberg two blocks to the parking lot listed on the claim check
that he had in his coat pocket.
He had black hair streaked with gray, looked to be in his mid-50s.
We questioned him on the way, but he'd admit nothing.
We located his car in the parking lot and searched it.
In the glove compartment, besides a half a dozen photographs and small books, we found
a key with a metal disc attached to it.
Stamped on the disc were the words West Side Studios, number 23.
Freyberg refused to identify the key.
He refused to admit a thing.
We walked him back to our car and together the three of us headed out for the old West
Side Studios just off Jefferson Boulevard.
On the way, we tried again to question the suspect, but we got nowhere.
He refused to answer even the simplest questions.
One look at the West Side Studios and you knew right away the place had seen better
days.
It had been fairly prominent in the early days of motion picture making, but all that
was left now was two square blocks of broken down scenery, one dilapidated sound stage,
and a row of weather-beaten cottages, the tar paper peeling off the roofs.
We got out of the car and started up the walk.
The faded sign over the main gate read West Side Studios, founded 1920.
Down in one corner, admission by pass only.
The guard shack at the gate was boarded up.
No sign of a night watchman.
We kept walking.
How come they don't keep a watchman at the gate, Freyberg?
Don't they make pictures here anymore?
You bet they do.
The place has been going downhill for a long time.
It's coming back though.
Then you do know the place, is that right?
Yeah, I know it.
I should know it.
What do you mean by that?
Nothing.
You renting an office here, is that it?
Freyberg?
Yeah, that's right.
Straight down the way there, cottage 23.
What's your job?
You're in the movie work?
Yeah, I have been for 30 years.
More than 30 years.
That's so, you an actor?
Freyberg.
Haven't you ever heard the name?
I'm a producer.
Oh, I see.
Why don't you tell us that to start with?
I don't know, different reasons.
I don't like to throw my weight around.
I have a lot of connections in Hollywood, you know.
That's so.
I've been in the trade 30 years.
I was one of the first.
You can make a lot of friends in 30 years.
Yeah, I guess so.
How about those books we found in your car, those pictures?
How do you explain them?
This studio will be back on the speak the year.
I bet a thousand people will be there.
I'm sure they'll be there.
This whole block here, sound stages, I got the plans for them in my desk.
That's so.
You have an interest in this lot?
Not exactly.
Not right now, anyway.
I did have an interest though.
I will again.
I was one of the original owners, you know.
Still haven't got an explanation.
How about the books and pictures we found in your car?
Oh, that?
Nothing to explain, is there?
Just a few gimmicks I picked up.
You know a boy by the name of Steven Banner?
Banner?
No, I don't think so.
Why?
How about Bud Spencer?
You know him?
No.
I knew a George Spencer once.
Actor.
That was back in the old days, though.
How about Laura Osborne?
Dorothy Ryan?
You know them?
No, it's pretty hard to say.
You know, Sergeant, over the years in this business, especially you meet an awful lot
of people.
Well, these are fairly recent.
You ought to remember them.
They're just kids, 17 years old.
They're not that old.
It's all in your head that these men and women are just kids, seventeen-year-olds.
No.
Wait.
I don't recall the names.
Soundstage Bell.
I've got a company over there doing some shooting tonight, television films.
They make them too fast.
Trade's not like it used to be.
Quality, that's what we went after.
Gone now.
It's all gone.
Westside'll do it again though.
You can bet on that.
We're coming back.
Look, how about leveling, Freiburg?
You know why we picked you up.
You know why we're out here.
It just did.
I don't know why.
Oh, say, look across the road.
that's set over there.
The old greenhouse there, Colonial Mansion.
Weather's faded the colors a little.
Typical old Southern estate now, you know?
We shot some beautiful footage there.
Picture's a classic in its own right.
Maybe you remember it.
Moonlight magnolias.
I changed the title later.
Love and the moonlight, beautiful thing.
You ever see it?
No, I don't think so.
I couldn't tell you how many beauties
we turned out that year.
I was a young fella then.
Song and strife, moonlight magnolias,
little orphan girl, sweetheart at the campus.
That's your cottage there, Mr. Fraberg?
What's that?
Just down the way there, number 23.
Oh, yeah, completely forgot about it.
I hope you'll excuse the way it looks.
I haven't been able to find good accommodations
in town, I've been staying at the office.
We have a little couch there, I sleep on that.
We have a hot plate too.
Good enough to boil a coffee in the morning.
How come you couldn't find space in town?
Hotels aren't that rushed, are they?
Well, the ones I'm used to staying at, yes.
I'd just soon camp here at the studio
and stay at one of those places downtown.
Say, wouldn't you like to see the rest of the lot?
Pretty interesting, if you've never seen
a real movie lot, I mean a high class one.
We've seen them, Mr. Fraberg, we'd like to check your office.
Oh, all right.
This is it.
Cottages need a good coat of paint, of course.
It'll all be done pretty soon.
West Side's going to come back strong,
you can bet on that.
Yeah, yes, sir.
Uh-oh, watch out on that first step there, it's loose.
Have to call maintenance and get that fixed.
Yeah, it's all right.
Here we are.
Well, as you can see, the office isn't very much
what it you wanted, gentlemen.
You want to check that cabinet there, Ed?
I'll take a look through these cases over here.
Okay.
This picture here on the wall,
that's the cast and the production staff
on my first film.
Here's the other one.
Me and RZ Bernard.
He autographed a picture for me, Bernard himself.
Those were the days, all right.
Quality, that's what we went after
in pictures, real quality.
Not like today, gone.
The good days, time, pictures, it's gone.
All gone.
How about at Freiburg, these cases of books here
and these photographs?
Not my fault, believe me.
I had to make a living, I had to make money.
How do you think it feels to get cheap like that?
I used to be young, I was big, I was talented.
I made big pictures.
How do you think it feels to get cheap all of a sudden,
cheap enough to do this kind of thing?
Nobody forced you, it was your choice, mister.
It wasn't my choice, you're wrong.
All I want to do is make pictures.
There isn't a chance anymore, not like the old days.
You need hundreds of thousands, millions.
Gone, it's all gone.
Had to eat, had to put clothes on my back.
You admit you're responsible for this,
books, pictures, working in the high school trade,
kids like Steve Banner, Bud Spencer?
After 1935, I couldn't get a job.
I didn't want this, I had to do it.
I'm ashamed, who wouldn't be?
I had to eat, it was the only way, I had to live.
There's honest jobs to be had.
How about this man named Jack?
He was in with me, he was my cameraman back in the old days.
You can't blame him either, he had to live too.
You want him to come downtown with us,
give us a statement?
Yeah, sure, all right, anything.
How about the parties, the two girls,
Laura Osborne, Dorothy Ryan?
I took some pictures, that's all.
I didn't harm them, nothing anyway.
You had it wrong, Fieberg, you know that.
Yeah, I know.
Just to have the kids there,
made you remember the days in your life,
best days in anybody's life.
Let's go.
When you used to have money,
when you used to be young.
The story you have just heard was true.
The names were changed to protect the innocent.
On January 29th, 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.
And now, here is our star, Jack Webb.
Thank you, George Fenomen.
Friends, won't you do this for me?
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Fatima's length gives you those extra puffs,
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The suspects, Charles Eamon Freyberg and his accomplice,
Jack L. Lavery, were tried and convicted on four counts
of contributing to the delinquency of minors.
Both of them served full terms in the county jail.
Contributing to the delinquency of minors is punishable
by a fine of not more than $1,000,
or by imprisonment in the county jail
for more than a year.
Or by both fine and imprisonment.
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.
Heard tonight were Barney Phillips,
Virginia Gregg and Ralph Moody.
Script by Jim Martin,
and the director of the Department of Public Affairs,
and the director of the Department by Jim Moser.
Music by Walter Schuman.
Hal Gibney speaking.
Fatima cigarettes.
Best of all, king-sized cigarettes
has brought you Dragnet Transcribed from Los Angeles.
["Dragnet"]
Now it's Counter-Spy on NBC.
["Dragnet"]