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Chesterfield brings you Dregnett.
Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to hear is true.
The names have been changed to protect the innocent.
You're a detective sergeant.
You're assigned a missing person's detail.
You get a call that a man is missing.
He failed to return from his work the day before.
There are no leads to his whereabouts.
Your job, find him.
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Dregnett, 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, Dregnett is the story of your police force
in action.
It was Tuesday, June 16th.
It was warm in Los Angeles.
We were working the night watch out a homicide division, missing persons detail.
My partner is Frank Smith.
The boss is Chief of Detective Stab Brown.
My name's Friday.
I was on my way back to the office and it was 1159 p.m. when I got to room 24, missing
persons.
What was his mental condition when you last saw him, Mr. Ford?
Where did you last see him?
Was he driving his car?
What time was that?
Yes, ma'am, but what was the exact time?
I see.
And your address?
And the phone, please.
Now, can you think of anything you forgot to tell me?
Right.
Oh, you gave me that before.
Mm-hmm.
Now, was your husband a drinking man, ma'am?
I see.
Okay, Miss Borg, we'll make a check, call you back.
Yes, ma'am, we'll do our best, thanks.
What's his name?
Ma'am, but the name of Borg, Missy.
I'm sure glad my wife doesn't call for help every time I miss a meal.
The trouble with most guys is they let a woman keep tabs on them, check on everything they
do.
Let me see that 97, will you?
Yeah, here you go.
That's everything his wife gave me.
Mm-hmm.
When you get the jails and records, I'll check Georgia Street County Hospital in the morgue.
It looked like a routine investigation.
Lots of things can keep a man from getting home.
A few drinks, a sick friend, unexpected business conference, a flat tire on an isolated road,
maybe just boredom.
But there are other things that can keep a man from getting home.
It had to be checked out.
Henry Borg, 51, male, white American, address 1571 East Burindos Street, had failed to return
home at the usual time on Monday.
His wife called one of the men he worked with and found that he hadn't been at work all
day that day.
He still hadn't come home the next afternoon.
She called us.
I checked the Gaga file to see if he was one of our regular customers, mental case or alcoholic.
He wasn't.
Frank and I checked the jails, the hospitals, and the morgue.
They had no record of him there, no John Doe's fitting his description.
And Borg had no criminal record.
We could assume that he was at least alive.
Frank called Mrs. Borg back, told her not to worry, and asked her to call us immediately
if she heard from her husband.
Wednesday, 310 p.m., still no word of Henry Borg.
At the day watch, it made another check of the jails, the hospitals, and the morgue.
Mrs. Borg called three times.
The day watch officer's notes described her as very upset.
I called her back and asked her to come in the next day to file a missing persons report.
I asked her also to bring in the best picture she had of her husband.
Thursday, 240 p.m., Mrs. Borg was waiting with Frank when I got to work.
She had already filled out the form 316.
She was holding an aging Pekingese dog in her arms.
Joe, this is Mrs. Borg.
How are you ma'am?
My partner, Joe Friday, ma'am.
Hello Officer Friday.
I talked to Mr. Smith and filled out the paper.
Here's that picture you wanted.
Oh yes, thank you very much ma'am.
It's a good likeness.
Now, Mrs. Borg, I see here that you haven't put anything down under personal habits for
your husband.
Well, I don't understand.
Well, does your husband drink at all ma'am?
Henry?
No.
He takes a glass of beer with his supper when he comes home, but he's not what a person
would call a drinking person.
Gamble?
Yes ma'am.
Cards, dice, horses?
Oh, I should say not.
He never does nothing like that.
You've never known him to gamble at all then?
Henry?
I should say not.
Now, Mrs. Borg, you say here that your husband has no relatives.
Oh, only a brother Ed, older brother, but I didn't put him down.
We don't know where he lives.
Haven't heard a word about him nine, ten years.
What about your family?
Your husband friendly with your family?
My family hasn't spoke to me since the day I married Henry Borg.
Mrs. Borg, I see you only have one friend listed, a Hal Bishop.
That's the man your husband rode to work with, isn't it?
Yes.
Do you know Mr. Bishop's address?
No, I don't.
Did your husband ride to work with Bishop every day?
You say he left his car at home Monday.
Did he ever drive it to work?
Well, he usually drove our car, but then he'd ride with Mr. Bishop pretty often too.
I didn't think anything about it.
It didn't seem like anything.
Well, did your husband spend much time with this Bishop?
No, just at work.
Henry, he used to like to spend his free time with me.
All right now, ma'am, please don't get upset here.
Did your husband have any financial problems, debts that were worrying him?
Financial difficulties like bills and things?
No, Henry always took care of it.
Do you think there might have been anything you didn't know about that was worrying him?
Officer, if Henry was worried about anything, I'd have known it.
He'd have told me for sure.
Now, what about your home?
Did you own it?
What do you mean?
Was there a mortgage on it, I mean?
Yes.
Do you have the pink slip on your car?
No, no.
Well, is it possible that your husband was behind in the payments?
No, no, he would have told me.
Well, did he owe money down where he worked?
No, not that I know of.
His job, maybe.
Was he worried about that?
Mr. Snyder, that's his boss.
He always said Henry would have a job as long as he was in the contracting business.
Henry makes good wages.
Now, you say here his mental condition was good.
Has that ever been poor?
You ever know your husband to black out?
How do you mean, black out?
Well, has he ever suffered from lapse of memory?
Is there any history of epilepsy in this family?
History of epilepsy?
Oh, no, not Henry.
He's a healthy man.
He hasn't had a sick day.
Now, Miss Borg, have you and your husband been getting along lately?
What do you mean by a thing like that, Officer?
You think Henry and I had a fight and that's why he left.
Is that what you think?
Well, we don't think anything here, but these are the things we have to check out.
Well, it's a waste of time.
Don't you think I'd have already told you that?
If Henry and I had had a fight, I'd have told you first off.
It's the first thing I'd have said.
Yes, ma'am.
Something's happened to my husband, Officer.
I just know it.
Something's happened to him.
Did you and your husband go out together much, ma'am?
Well, one night last month we went to the Coconut Grove, there in the Ambassador Hotel,
and we used to go up the movies pretty regular.
Was he in the habit of leaving the house at night alone?
No.
Just when he went out with Francine.
Francine?
Yes, our Pekingese here.
3.55 p.m. Thursday, June 18th.
Began to look as if Henry Borg was in trouble.
From what we'd been told, he wasn't a man who had just suddenly decided to leave home.
We had to find out if the facts we'd been given were accurate.
Thursday, 4.10 p.m.
We contacted Borg's friend, Hal Bishop, just as he was leaving the construction job where
they both worked.
He said he hadn't gone by Borg's house to pick him up Monday because Borg hadn't asked
him to.
The way they worked it, Borg always told him the day before if he wanted a ride.
At first, Bishop said he hadn't noticed anything strange about Borg recently.
Then he decided Borg had been a little irritable the last few days.
Said it wasn't like him to be irritable.
That he'd never known Borg to miss work before, and that he'd never heard of any trouble between
Borg and his wife.
He said that Borg didn't talk much about his wife.
We called on the neighbors of the Borgs.
They said nothing to indicate any flaws in Mrs. Borg's story.
Henry and Martha Borg were average people in an average neighborhood.
He went to work every morning at 7 a.m.
Came home at 5.15.
His neighbors didn't know much about him.
He was a quiet man.
They lived in the same house for 13 years.
Martha Borg was 47, maybe 48.
They never had visitors.
After 13 years in the same neighborhood, she apparently had no close friends.
Two of her neighbors had noticed that in the past year, Martha Borg would leave her house
three or four times a week at 11 a.m.
Always at 11 a.m.
She invariably got back before her husband did.
The neighbors said she usually brought some shopping home with her.
They did go out frequently in the evenings.
However, there were no reports of family trouble between Martha and Henry Borg.
Thursday, 6.20 p.m.
We talked to Adolf Wernicke, whose grocery store was on the corner a half a block from
the Borg home.
They'd been trading with him ever since they moved to the neighborhood.
I don't know what to tell you about, Mr. Borg officer.
He always seemed like a nice fellow to me.
He didn't say much, but nice.
It sure is funny him disappearing like that.
You got any idea if he had any trouble with his wife?
No, that wife, she's a funny one.
Different from Mr. Borg is day and night.
Well, how's that, sir?
I don't know.
High hat sort of.
She's all right, I guess.
Kind of show off, though.
The kind of person who dresses up when she goes shopping around the corner and likes
to buy fancy groceries, stuff I never get calls for.
Like those anchovies up there on the shelf.
Now, I'll bet you I won't sell two cans of them in a year, but Mrs. Borg comes in and
she'll buy them.
Now, Mr. Borg, he don't like that kind of stuff at all.
He told me so himself.
Yes, sir, but how'd they get along?
Did he ever say anything about his wife?
I'm telling you the truth, officer.
I don't know.
As far as a man and his wife arguing, I don't pry.
It hurts business.
Come to think of it, he did say one thing.
It was a long time ago, about two, three months ago, maybe more.
What was that?
What'd he say?
Well, he came in here, just about like this time it was.
Didn't buy anything, just kind of hung around.
Remember, he seemed down to sorts.
I asked him if he was feeling all right.
Said he was.
Just felt like he had to get away from the house.
Now, that'll happen to a man.
Just feel like you gotta get away for a while.
You know what I mean, officer.
No, sir, I'm not married.
Thursday, 7.50 p.m.
Borg's description and the circumstances of his disappearance have been broadcast to all
units.
Still no word.
4.10 p.m.
Friday, June 19th.
We checked Borg's union.
He hadn't reported for a new job.
We filed an all-points bulletin.
8.5 p.m.
I checked back into the office.
Mrs. Borg was waiting.
Sergeant Friday, I'd like to know just what's going on around here.
My husband has been missing almost a week, and I don't see why something hasn't been
done about it.
If you can't find my husband, then why don't they put more men on this case?
This is a terrible thing.
I'm a woman alone, and the police haven't done a single thing.
My husband may be dead.
He may be dead, and nobody's doing anything about it.
In my work, you hear it every day, but you can't get mad.
It's against regulations, and you can't blame them either.
They're in trouble, so you let them talk.
You try to explain.
They don't listen, but you try.
Well, we're doing all we can, ma'am.
They're always talking these days about giving policemen more money.
It seems to me there are certain policemen who aren't even earning the money they get
right now.
Yes, ma'am.
What are you doing for my husband?
Mrs. Borg, here's the file on it.
Now we've made regular checks on the hospitals, the jails, and the morgues.
Thursday night, when you came in to file that Form 316, we had a complete description of
your husband broadcast to all radio units in the city.
Was teletyped to every police division.
Today, we sent out an all-points bulletin over the state wire.
Every police department, sheriff's office, and highway patrol unit in the state knows
that your husband is missing.
Here, you can see the bulletin right here, ma'am.
Now, in these cases, ma'am, we start with nothing.
We don't know where they've gone or why they've gone.
Most of them turn up by themselves.
Some of them don't.
We do everything we can to find the ones that don't.
Mrs. Borg, there are 4,000 police officers in this city looking for your husband.
8.57 p.m.
When we thought Mrs. Borg was feeling better, we sent her home.
We reminded her again to notify us immediately if she heard from her husband.
9.10 p.m.
The desk at Central called and told us that they'd picked up a John Doe.
From what they said, he apparently was suffering from amnesia.
While I went down to homicide to check out some reports, Frank went over to Central to
see the man they picked up.
9.16 p.m.
Frank came back to the office.
John?
Yeah?
I just checked out that John Doe at Central.
Anything on him?
Yeah, it's Henry Borg.
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9.18 p.m.
Officers Gorman and Mayer brought in Henry Borg, alias John Doe.
They found him wandering around on the 900 block down on South Spring Street, the financial
district.
Wasn't much reason for anybody to be loitering around there at that time of night.
All the businesses in the area were closed.
The officers investigated.
When they questioned the suspect, he would not or could not reply.
They took him to central division where the watch commander, Lieutenant Hale, had him
shaken down.
His wallet was missing.
No papers, no identification.
In his pockets, the officers found eight cents, a key ring and several keys.
No cigarettes, no matches.
He was dressed in a good quality worsted suit.
Very rumpled.
No tie, no hat.
Gorman and Mayer had rolled his prints at the city hall and sent them to latent prints
for classification.
During this time, no one let him know that we had any idea who he was.
The two officers that had picked him up stood by.
Frank and I walked over to where he was sitting.
Do you know who you are?
Feel sick?
Been drinking maybe?
Would you have a rough night?
Look, if you can talk, mister, I think you better make things a lot simpler here.
We're trying to help you.
How about tell us who you are?
Maybe there's something wrong with you, mister, but we don't think so.
We want to know who you are.
We want you to tell us.
If you don't, the only thing we can do is let them book you at city jail as a John Doe.
That's the law.
Now look, if you're trying to hide something, if you're wanted, we're going to know it
in a few minutes anyhow.
If you want to wait, we'll wait it out with you.
You want us to think you're an amnesia case.
Is that it?
Well, maybe you got a good reason, but it won't work.
I've been in this department a long time.
I've seen a lot of phony amnesia cases.
I've only seen one real one and he didn't act like you.
You want to know what I think?
I think you're pulling a phony.
Come on.
How about it, mister?
I got it.
Missing persons Friday.
All right.
Yeah.
You bet.
Thanks very much.
Right.
Okay.
That was latent prints, mister.
They got your fingerprints classified.
Now we know you're not wanted for anything.
Look, we're not going to let you go.
We're going to have to get you out of here.
Look, we know you're not a bum.
Your clothes are good and you look like a guy who takes good care of himself.
A man like you doesn't walk around without a wallet.
What happened to you?
You got a problem?
Tell us about it.
Maybe we can help you.
Now, why don't you tell us who you are?
You probably got a wife.
She must be mighty worried about you right now.
All right, book him.
I lost my wallet.
How?
I don't know how.
Where?
I don't know where I've been.
Now you listen to me, mister.
We want to know who you are.
We want to know where you've been, we want to know right now.
I don't know who I am.
Let me see your hands.
What?
Your hands.
Come on, hold them up.
Let me see them.
That's it.
Now I'm going to tell you something about yourself, mister.
You work for a living, don't you?
Hard work, with your hands.
Like a mason, maybe, huh?
Yeah, maybe you're a mason or a hod carrier.
You could be a painter, some kind of construction work, I'd say.
Something like a plasterer, for instance, huh?
You couldn't be a plasterer by any chance, could you, mister?
I don't know.
Okay.
You ready to talk to us now, Henry?
I wasn't trying to fool you.
I was only trying to fool myself.
We've been looking for you since Tuesday, Borg.
Your wife's pretty worried.
I'm not going back.
No matter what you do, I'm not going back.
We're not going to make you go back.
That's up to you, Borg.
All I pay is for, mister, is to find you, to make sure you're okay.
None of our business if you go back.
I'm not going back.
All right, now look, you're pretty upset, Borg.
Why don't you tell us about it?
It's crazy.
It's crazy what I did.
It doesn't make any sense.
You fellas, you wouldn't be interested.
Maybe I'll just go.
If it's all right with you, I'll just go.
Yeah, it's all right.
It's okay if you want to.
Look, we're going to be around here another hour.
We haven't got much to do.
Our work's all cleaned up.
We're just about ready to go home.
Why don't you stick around and talk to us, huh?
We'd kind of like to hear what happened.
Yeah.
Just might help to clear things up in your mind if you talked about it.
Oh, it's crazy.
I know it's crazy, but I guess I do want to tell somebody about it.
How about a cigarette?
Will that help?
Yeah.
Think I'll give you a match?
I am a man 50 years old.
I work hard.
I learned my trade as a boy of 16.
I've been at it ever since.
My wife and me, we got a new car.
We got our own home, almost paid for.
A man my age, when he gets home nights, he wants to take it easy.
Read the paper, watch the television.
Bought a $400 TV, 21-inch screen.
Now, you want to know what happens when I get home?
She wants to go out.
It don't make any difference how tired I am.
It don't make any difference if I've been working hard all day.
She wants to go out.
Do you know what that's like?
Well, it doesn't sound like the reason a man would leave home.
I don't mind it once in a while if it was just once in a while,
but she's after me every minute I'm home.
Here for the last few years, it's been every night.
I don't know what's come over her.
She didn't used to be like that.
Martha used to be a sensible woman.
Now, she acts silly like a young girl.
She's different.
Goes in for fancy clothes, all kinds of fancy food, even anchovies.
And I don't like anchovies.
Last month, I swear, she even made me take her down to the Ambassador Hotel.
Imagine me at the Ambassador Hotel.
All I ever hear from her is, we've just got a few years left to have our fling.
I don't want any fling.
I'm a plasterer. That's hard work.
I get home, I want to rest.
It isn't like I cared if she goes out.
She goes to the movies almost every day.
Goes before noon, she tells me, before the prices go up.
I don't care about the money.
I want her to have a good time, the clothes, the things like that.
I don't care.
I love my wife.
I guess you think I'm crazy after what I did, but I love my wife.
I see, sir.
And that dog, that Francine, what kind of a name is that for a dog?
You ought to hear her talk to it like it was a person.
How long you had the dog, Borg?
I don't know, two, three years.
The reason I ask, it seems funny, you just decided to leave home last month.
The dog's been around two or three years.
The ambassador thing was last month, he said.
Well, what did it?
It was the lessons.
The dancing lessons.
What?
But there's this social club up around Pico and Figueroa.
People go there to dance.
People are aged, she says.
Only I can't dance.
That's when she gets this idea I've got to take dancing lessons.
Did you ever hear of anything like that?
A man my age has got to take dancing lessons?
That's when you left.
That was Sunday afternoon when she got this idea.
She kept picking at me all afternoon.
It really got me.
I thought about it all night.
I couldn't sleep.
Monday morning I just didn't go to work.
I got drunk instead.
Got sick too.
Just couldn't think of anything else to do.
I guess you know the rest.
I lost my tie, my wallet, lost my hat too.
And they picked me up.
I was just kind of wandering around when they picked me up.
Seems like a shame when a man can't even go home.
You sure you don't want to go home now, Borg?
Maybe if you talk things over with your wife.
No, no, it wouldn't do any good.
Nothing I could say to her would do any good.
I can't go home.
Well, it sure has been interesting hearing you talk, Mr. Borg.
It's almost like hearing somebody tell about me, remember, Joe?
Yeah.
You had something like this?
Had it.
With me it was canasta though.
I hate cards, a waste of time.
I sure thought it was the end for me and Faye.
Remember, Joe?
But it wasn't?
No, for a while it sure looked like I was going to lose my happy home.
Guess I would have too, but I talked turkey to her.
You know what I mean, Borg?
No. What do you mean?
Talk turkey to him, make him understand.
You let a woman push you around, Borg, you're dead.
Well, Mr. Martha...
Look, they're all the same.
I sat her right down on the sofa and I said, now look, Faye,
and I told her what the scar was.
She took it too.
It's the only way to do.
You try what I say, Borg, you'll see I'm right.
I can just see, Martha, if I ever tried to put my foot down.
That's what I thought.
I was all set to give it up, move in with Joe here, right, Joe?
Yeah.
And I figured I might as well at least get a load off my chest.
Once I got started, I lost my temper.
You know, it's a funny thing.
Faye's always thought more of me since then.
You ask her, she'll tell you so herself.
Says she respects a man who'll stand up for his own rights.
Right, Joe?
Well, I don't know.
With me, I don't think it would work.
Sure it can.
Borg, you listen to me.
You tell her you're a working man.
Tell her when you get through work, you want to take it easy
and nobody's going to run you.
Set her straight, Borg.
Get tough if you have to.
She won't give you any trouble after that.
I just don't know, Martha.
It won't do any harm to try it.
I'd like to see Martha's face just once
if I even told her to shut up.
I wouldn't want her to have anything handy to throw.
Borg, look, it's 12 10.
We've got to be getting home now.
You take my advice.
You go home too.
Have a talk with her.
See if you can't work it out.
No.
No, Sergeant.
Thanks a lot, but I can't go home.
Well, like I told you, it's none of our business,
but I think you ought to try it.
Well, here.
Well, look, you're going to need car fare.
Here's a dollar.
You take this and go on home.
That'll get you there.
Well, OK.
You'll get this back, Sergeant.
I'll pay it back to you.
I guess maybe you're right.
Can't hurt anything to try it.
Boats of stuff.
Thank you a lot.
I didn't mean to put you fellas out this way.
Good luck to you, Borg.
You'll see.
It'll work.
Maybe it'll work.
Well.
But I don't know.
What the...
I'll get out of cancellation, Joe.
That should wrap it up, huh?
Yeah.
What time did you say it was?
It's 1210.
Yeah.
Well, Joe, I better make a phone call first.
This time of night?
Why?
What's the matter?
I just remembered I told Fay I'd call her.
Friday, July 28.
A month had passed since Henry Borg
had left our office to go home.
We'd heard nothing further from him or his wife.
We assumed that they had reconciled their problems.
610 p.m.
Officers?
Oh, hello there, Borg.
Nice to see you again.
Hi, Borg.
I was afraid maybe you fellas wouldn't remember me.
It's been a while.
I tried to get out and see you before this.
Well, fine.
How are things going?
Did it work out, like I said?
I brought you something, Sergeant.
Some cigarettes for both of you.
Like you to have them.
I hope it's the right brand.
Well, yes, sir, that's the right brand, all right,
but you don't owe us anything.
I want you to have them.
That's all right, sir.
You keep them.
All right.
Well, anyway, here's that dollar,
the one you loaned me.
Okay, Borg, thanks very much.
I sure owe you fellas a lot, and I really mean it.
My wife and I, we sure appreciate what you fellas did for us.
Oh, is that clock right?
Yes, sir.
Uh-oh, got to rush.
Got an appointment.
Be late if I don't hurry.
Appointment?
Yeah.
Got to get over to Arthur Murray's.
The story you have just heard is true.
The names were changed to protect the innocent.
On July 31st, a meeting was held in the office of the captain of homicide.
In a moment, the results of that meeting.
Now here is our star, Jack Webb.
Thank you, George Fenomen.
Friends, we hope you've been listening to Dragnet regularly,
and we hope you've tried our Chesterfields.
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Since the subject, Henry George Borg, had committed no crime,
he was not held and the case was officially marked closed.
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.
Technical advisors, Captain Jack Donahoe, Sergeant Marty Wynn,
Sergeant Vance Brasher.
Heard tonight were Ben Alexander, Vic Perrin, Irene Tedro.
Script by Paul Coates.
Music by Walter Shuman.
Hal Gibney speaking.
For a million laughs, tune in to Chesterfield's Martin & Lewis show,
Tuesday on this same NBC station.
And sound off for Chesterfields, either regular or king size.
You'll find premium quality Chesterfields much milder.
Chesterfield is best for you.
By special request, Dragnet is being sent to our service men and women
all over the world.
Chesterfield has brought you Dragnet transcribed from Los Angeles.
Have you tried new cork tipped Fatima?
It's the smooth smoke.
Here's why.
New Fatima tips of perfect cork.
King size for longer filtering.
And Fatima quality for a much better flavor and aroma.
Remember, Fatima has the tip for your lips.
Try new Fatima.
See how smooth it is.
Fatima is made by the makers of Chesterfield, Liggett and Myers,
one of tobacco's most respected names.
Chesterfield.