You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned a homicide detail. A man is shot down in the street of a residential neighborhood. He's critically wounded. You don't know who the assailant is. You don't know where he is. Your job, get him. Compare Fatima with any other king-size cigarette. Prove Fatima quality yourself. You'll find Fatima's length filters the smoke 85 millimeters for your protection. Fatima's length cools the smoke for your protection. You'll find Fatima's length gives you those extra pumps, 21 percent longer than standard cigarette size. And in Fatima, you get an extra mild and soothing smoke, plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Definitely the best quality in its class, but the same price as the cigarette you're now smoking. Buy Fatima in the bright, sunny yellow pack. Best of all, king-size cigarettes. Dragnet, the documented drama of an actual crime. For the next 30 minutes, in cooperation with the Los Angeles Police Department, you will travel step-by-step on the side of the law through an actual case transcribed from official police files. From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Dragnet is the story of your police force in action. It was Thursday, January 20th. It was mild in Los Angeles. We were working the night watch out of homicide detail. My partner's Ed Jacobs. The boss is Thad Brown, chief of detectives. My name's Friday. I was on the way back from dinner and it was 9.57 p.m. when I got back to the city hall, room 42, homicide detail. Hi. Make it in time? No, they were closed up. That's too bad. Where's Chief? Well, that cafeteria down the street was terrible. Nothing at all, huh? Well, I figured I'd be safe with a corned beef hash. Even that wasn't much soggy, you know. Probably standing all day. That's too bad. I asked Johnny if he'd stay open a couple of minutes late. Told him you were coming right over. The place was closed tight when I got there. Couldn't raise anybody. Tough luck. Sharp ribs are really good tonight. Some great pie, too. Boisenberry. Best I had anyway. Say, you got any of those bicarb pills in your locker? I could sure use one. I'm afraid not. Gave the last one to Gene Bectal tonight. He ate at the cafeteria, too. Hiya. Oh, hiya. What do you say? Any phone calls for me yet? Muriel down the stairs saw us called. Had run you asked before they got ready. It was the only call, huh? Yeah. What is it, Al? Something wrong? No, why? You've been moping around like you lost your best friend. What's the matter? You mad at the world? No, I just saw you in-laws. The wife had her father and mother over for lunch today. The old man's getting to be a real pain in the neck. Don't get along with him, huh? I keep trying to. Doesn't seem to do much good. All he can think of is money. That's all he can talk about. Why let it bother you? My in-laws have been talking about it for years. Forget it. He won't let you. The man he puts his foot inside the front door, it's the first thing you hear. Crusty old guy. That pipe he smokes, enough to knock you over. Why don't you duck out when I come over? Tell him you got a call, you have to go to work. The wife's on to that one. She makes me hang around. She keeps telling me her father and mother like me. You never know what the old guy's a real tyrant. See, the wife comes from a big family. Every time I see her old man, he has to make a point of telling me how smart his other sons-in-law are, how much dough they're making. Yeah, same. Yeah, same routine every time. One of his daughters married a carpenter. He's making $20 a day. One of them married a hard carrier. He's making $25 a day. Always ends up asking me how much I'm making. Why don't you tell him it's none of his business? I did today. That's what started the argument. I walked out. Crusty old guy. Yeah, well, I get it. Homicide, Friday. Yes, sir. Where? Mm-hmm. Would you repeat? Yes, sir, I have it. Fine, thank you. Yes, sir, right away. Shooting, Kirkman near Alpine. Let me grab my coat. No details? No, sir. I have it on my coat. No details? Man down on the sidewalk. Apparently hurt bad. Neighbor said it was a family fight. Come on, we better hustle it out. Let's go. That's one good thing about this job. What do you mean? Trouble. You don't know what it is to hear about other people's. Sergeant Al Shambra, Ed and I drove out to the scene of the shooting. Code 3, red light and siren. We located the victim lying on the sidewalk approximately 50 feet from the intersection of Kirkman Avenue and Alpine Street. He was a dark haired man, looked to be in his early 40s, tan complexion, well built. He'd been shot several times in the chest, once in the shoulder. He appeared to be unconscious. A handful of curious neighbors were standing by. One of them, a short balding man, identified himself as Ernest Whitley. He said he was the victim's next door neighbor. What's the man's name, Mr. Whitley? Wally Radford lives right next door to me. Been my neighbor for years. Where do you live? This apartment court right here. I live in the cottage next to the end when they're at number 8. Wally lives in number 9. One right in the end there facing us. Yeah, what do you know about the shooting, Mr. Whitley? Well, I didn't have anything to do with it. I was watching television with the wife. I heard the shots outside. You can ask the wife, she'll tell you. You heard the shots outside of Radford's cottage, is that right? Yeah, that's right. Where's the ambulance? Why don't they come? They've been notified. They're on their way. Well, who did the shooting, Whitley? Would you know that? Well, not for sure. We were watching television, like I said, when I heard the shots. Wife and I. First, I heard the shots and then I heard somebody yell. I thought it was some high school kids in a hot rod or something, you know, horsing around outside. Wife told me to get up and take a look anyway, so I did. On the way to the door, I heard another shot. Then somebody yelled out again, like they were hurt. Must have been six or seven shots anyway. Just as I opened the door, I saw Wally go running fast. I didn't know what was coming off. He ran right out toward the street here, weaving back and forth. Looked like he'd had a couple of drinks. I didn't know what it was. You didn't see the actual shooting? You didn't see anyone with a gun? Well, no. The only one I saw was Wally. He ran right by me, holding his hands up to his chest. I yelled to him, but he didn't stop. I didn't know if he was drunk or what. When he got out here to the sidewalk, I saw him fall down. I went after him. He was terrible. Say, uh, either one of you got a smoke? Yeah, sure. Look, I'm still shaking like a leaf. There you go. Swell. Thank you. Want a light? Yeah, please. Thanks. You're welcome. Was Radford still conscious when you reached him, you know? Just about, yeah. I don't know how many times he was shot. He was rolling around on the ground. Pain was terrible. The whole front of his shirt was all stained. I yelled to Mike Desmond, one of the other neighbors. He called you fellas. Did Radford say anything to you, how it happened? He kept moaning about the pain. Kind of made me sick. It was a relief when he passed out. Did he tell you how it happened? Yeah, his wife. I figured that was it when I saw what was wrong with him. He told you his wife shot him? Well, he had a big fight today, Wally and his wife. Started this afternoon, been going on all day, all night, yelling at each other, throwing things around. I never expected this, though. Something must have snapped. She must be out of her mind. Where's his wife now? I don't know. Still back in their cottage, I guess. I've been here since the shooting. I didn't see her leave. Joe? Yeah? We got our hands full. Now what do you got? Just talking to one of the neighbor women back in the court here. She said that Mrs. Radford phoned her about five minutes ago, identified herself as the victim's wife, cottage number nine. What did Mrs. Radford want with the neighbor? She said she was giving fair warning. She wanted her past the word alone. What do you mean? Claims she's going to kill anybody that comes after her. Ten twenty eight p.m. The ambulance arrived and the attendants administered first aid to the victim of the shooting, Wallace Radford. Before he was rushed to Georgia Street Receiving Hospital for further treatment, Radford regained consciousness long enough to confirm the fact that it was his wife who shot him. That was about all he could tell us before the sedatives took effect. The two officers and two of the radio cars which were standing by were detailed to keep the crowd away from the apartment court where the shooting took place, in particular cottage nine where the Radfords lived. The blinds were drawn on the house. There were no lights showing. We called the Radford cottage on the phone, but there was no answer. Al Shambra and Ed circled around and back for a closer look at the place. I continued interviewing the Radfords next door neighbor, Ernest Whitley. I guess I should have known her to come to this some day, the way they've been fighting lately, with Wally and his wife. They've been doing nothing but wrangling, day in, day out. Well, do you have any idea where Mrs. Radford got the gun? She must have used Wally's, I guess. I don't know where else she'd get her hands on one. He keeps a gun in the house, does he? Yeah, as long as I've known him, he has. 38 automatic. I don't know the make though. You happen to know if Mrs. Radford was used to handling a gun? No, typical woman. Remember Wally and Stella were over for cards one night. Stella, that's Mrs. Radford. Yeah. I don't know how it came up, but Wally and Stella started arguing about him keeping a gun in the house. Stella didn't like it a bit, said she was afraid of guns. Didn't even like to have them around. I'm surprised she even knew how to pull a trigger. You said that Radford's had a big fight today. What was it about, you happen to know? Same old thing, I guess. Stella was always accusing Wally of running around with other women, running around town drinking. As far as I know, it wasn't true. As a matter of fact, it was just the opposite. If anybody was on the town, it was Stella. I happen to know at least one guy she was making eyes at. Oh, here's your friend. Hi, what's it look like? Not good. House is pitch dark. Can't hear anyone moving around inside. It won't be easy to get out of there, Joe, the way the cottage is situated. Why, what's the problem? The rear of the house backs up against that hill there. There's a small space between the end of the house and the hill. No back door, just windows. One of them's open a few inches. You mean the front door is the only way in the place, huh? No, there's a side door on the left of the house there, left-hand side. Yeah, it's a kitchen door, Sergeant. Leaves right into the kitchen. Just like our place, all the cottages are laid out the same. The living room's just inside the front door, then, huh? Yeah, that's right. Bedrooms in the right rear, kitchen in the left rear. A small bathroom leading off the bedroom leads to the left. She won't come out peaceably. How about a tear gas shell? That ought to bring her out. Well, I don't know if we'll need it, Al, might be a waste of time. Whitley here was just telling me Mrs. Radford isn't familiar with guns. Do you think she'd know how to reload the automatic, Whitley? No, sir, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't. I don't even know if Wally had another clip of shells around the house. Even if he did, Stella wouldn't know what to do with it. Well, how about the clip that's already in the gun? Good chance she's got a couple of shells left. She fired more than half a dozen of them, I know that. She must have gone crazy. There were at least seven or eight shots. Well, that'll just about empty the gun. How about it, you want to try rushing the place? Let's go. Don't do me. I'll be out here for the time being, Mr. Whitley. Might be some shooting. You know, it's you taking any chances. Yes, sir, sure. Okay, Sergeant. I'll be right back here if you want me. Thank you very much. All right, let's try it. How do you want to handle it? Why don't you and Al take the side door. I'll go in the front. You want to see if we can get a rise out of her first? Yeah, might be she'll give it up without a fight. I'll call out to her a couple of times first. If there's no answer, we'll rush the place. Okay. Now, let's make it all together. I'll just wait for a signal. I'll call it out. All right. Okay. That's it. Side door just behind the shrub over there. Gives us a little time to get around her, huh? Yeah, no, when I call out the rush, make it fast. It's the only thing we got in our favor. We'll try and surprise you. Right. See you later. Yeah, be careful. Mrs. Radford? Mrs. Radford, can you hear me? Police officers, we've got your place surrounded. We want you to come out. Can you hear me, Mrs. Radford? We want you to come out. Mrs. Radford? All right, let's go. Hit the door. Joe, Joe, you all right? Yeah, what about you? In the kitchen. It's empty. Okay, just a minute. Living room's empty. Nothing here. And in the bedroom. Nothing here. Yeah, how about that? Hey, Joe, back here. Where are you? Bedroom, straight back. All right. Have a look. Did you check the bathroom and all the closets? Everything. She's gone. 10 46 p.m. We double checked the cottage, all the buildings and possible hiding places adjoining the Radford house, and then we combed through the immediate neighborhood around the apartment court. There was no trace of the suspect, Stella Radford. In the apartment, we found a picture which neighbors told us was a good likeness of Mrs. Radford. Al Shambra got to a phone, called the office and a local broadcast and an APB was gotten out on her. We figured she probably slipped out of the house without being noticed during the general excitement immediately after the shooting. Her phone call to one of the neighbors warning that she'd kill anyone who came after her only served as a stall to give her more time for a getaway. 10 55 p.m. Ray Pinker and the crime lab crew arrived and began their preliminary investigation. Judging from the blood stains found on the furniture and the rug in the living room and on the front steps of the cottage, Radford had first been shot while he was in the living room and then apparently he ran out the front door to escape the gunfire. A trail of seven empty shells ejected from a 38 caliber automatic seemed to indicate that his wife followed him out the front door still firing at him as he tried to get away. We checked the apartment court garage but the Radford's car was still there. We remained at the apartment court interviewing the neighbors and trying to get a line on some of Mrs. Radford's known friends and associates. Joe, how'd you make out? Not much Al. The neighbor I talked to hardly even knew the Radford's. How about you? Not much better. The only apartment up the way named Joanne Taylor, she told me she knew Radford's wife fairly well. Says she has a sister in town, doesn't have any idea where she lives though. How about the boyfriends Mrs. Radford's supposed to be running around with? She know anything about that? She thinks she was doing a little running around. She doesn't know who the men are though. You hear anything about Radford's condition? Yeah, I checked with George's treat a couple of minutes ago. It's pretty critical. I don't know if he's going to make it or not. Joe, Al, back here hustling. Come on. What do you got? Radford's neighbor is next door. Whitley's. Just got a call from Mrs. Radford. She's talking to Mr. Whitley on the phone right now. Let's go. I don't know what this is all about. Oh yeah Sergeant. I was just going to run and get you. Did you have Mrs. Radford on the phone? I did, yeah. She hung up just before you came in. Wouldn't talk though. Did she tell you where she is? No, she sure sounded funny. I think something snapped. She's a little crazy. What'd she say? Why'd she call you? Said she wanted to find out if her no good husband was dead yet. That's all I could make out. The rest was just a lot of gibberish. She wouldn't give you any idea where she was? Where she was falling from? No, I asked her but she just laughed at me. Might still have a chance to find out though. Yeah, how's that? She's going to call me back. While Ed and I waited with Mr. Whitley in his apartment, Al Shambra got to another phone in one of the adjoining apartments, called our business office and gave them the number of the Whitley's telephone. He asked them to make arrangements as soon as possible to have all incoming calls at the Whitley's trace to their origin. Meantime, Ed and I were briefing Ernest Whitley as to what he should say if and when the suspect, Stella Radford, called him back. There was no phone extension in his apartment so the only way we'd be able to monitor the conversation would be for Whitley to share the receiver with one of us. We waited. 11.30 p.m., 11.45, midnight, 12.15 a.m. Sign. All right, try and keep the receiver tilted so we can listen. Sure, hope I got it straight. Okay. Hello? Ernie, this is Stella. Did you find out what I told you to? Yeah, yeah, I called the hospital. Wally's a lot better. It's not as bad as I thought it was. What do you mean it's not bad? You trying to kid me? No, it's the truth, Stella. It's not half bad at all. Wally's going to be all right. Couldn't be. I shot him four or five times. How could he be all right? Look, I didn't say he was all right. I said he was going to be all right. Look, it's nothing serious. Not half as bad as I thought. You're lying. You know you're lying, Ernie. Look, come on, snap out of it, will you, Stella? It's going to be all right. Wally forgives you. Believe me, he does. Now, look, why don't you come home? We'll get the whole thing straightened out. There won't be any trouble. Why don't you stop trying to kid me? It's not going to be all right. I've seen the last of you and the last of Wally. Stella. I'm with my boyfriend now. We're getting out of town. Now, wait a minute, Stella. Use your head, huh? Don't go rushing in anything. You don't have to tell me. I know what I'm doing. I don't care if that dumb husband of mine lives or dies, but just telling me better not try to follow it. Oh, Stella. My boyfriend's an ex-con. He's got a gun and he knows how to use it. Well, Stella, will you listen a minute? I'll let the cops know too, in case they're going to follow us. They try and stop us and they're going to have a fight in their heads. Look, you keep talking. Will you listen for just a minute? Where are you now? Let me come down and talk to you. Not a chance. Just be a waste of time. I'm leaving with my boyfriend in half an hour. You can tell Wally I hope he dies. Wait a minute, Stella. He gave me a message for you, honey. He left something with me. He wants you to have it. What? His wallet. He gave it to me just before he left for the hospital. It's got $94 in it. Says he doesn't care what you think of him. He wants you to have the money. $94? Yeah. He didn't have that much money with him. Where'd he get it? Well, I don't know anything about that, but it's right here in his wallet, just the way he gave it to me. He wants you to have it. That's all I know. I don't get it. He didn't have that much money. Well, what do you want me to do? Take it back to him? Tell him you didn't want it? Look, give the guy a break, huh, Stella? It's the only way he's got to show you how he feels about you. Stella, isn't that right? Well, how about it, Stella? You got the money with you? I told you, yeah. Pick it up any time you want. No. You bring it down here. I'll pay your cab fare, buy you a drink. You can meet my boyfriend. Yeah? Just a minute. Stella? Hello, Stella? Yeah? It's about 1230 now. Be down here in half an hour, huh? Uh-huh. I'm in a bar right on the corner. You can't miss it. Where? What corner? Ninth and Avalon. As soon as the suspect, Stella Radford, hung up, we went to the apartment Cotty's next door where Al Schamber was on the phone in constant communication with our business office. He told us that somehow there'd been a slip-up. They were unable to trace the call to its point of origin. 1236 A.M. According to plan, Ernest Whitley left his apartment, called a taxi, and headed downtown to keep his appointment with the suspect, Stella Radford. Ed Jacobs and Lieutenant Tony Ruiz from Homicide followed him. Al Schamber and I stood by at the apartment. More waiting. 1 A.M. 1 30. 2 A.M. I think they'd call us anyway. I wonder what the hitch is. It's kind of hard to figure out. It's either a bum steer or they ran into some kind of trouble, maybe. Mrs. Radford, she really warmed up to the idea when the money was mentioned. Apparently, yeah. I was listening in when Whitley gave her the story. She seemed to go for it. It's kind of hard to tell. The way this whole thing shapes up, she can... It might be them now. Give a look. Joe? Oh, yeah. What happened? How'd it go? We covered the bottle closing. Cruised the neighborhood. Gave her plenty of time. Yeah. No luck. She didn't show. You are listening to Drag Myth, authentic stories of your police force in action. Fatima, America's first largest selling blended cigarette. Now king size. The only king size cigarette that makes you this money back guarantee. Buy a pack of Fatimas. Enjoy Fatima quality, extra mildness and superbly blended tobaccos. If you're not convinced, Fatima is better than the king size cigarette you're now smoking. Just return the pack and the unsmoked Fatimas by August 1st, 1952 for your money back plus postage. Fatima, Box 37, New York 1. Buy Fatima. Compare them with any other king size cigarette. One, Fatima's length filters the smoke 85 millimeters for your protection. Two, Fatima's length cools the smoke for your protection. Three, Fatima's length gives you those extra puffs, 21% longer than standard cigarette size. And you get an extra mild and soothing smoke plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Remember more smokers now insist on Fatima quality than ever before. Buy Fatima. In Fatima, the difference is quality. Best of all, king size cigarettes. Friday, January 21st, 228 a.m. With the failure of the suspect Stella Radford to keep the date with her next door neighbor Ernest Whitley at the Avalon Boulevard bar, we reached a temporary stalemate. Despite the fact that checks were made at all restaurants, bars, and other business places in the vicinity of 9th and Avalon open that time of night, there was no report or trace of the suspect. While the search continued, we stood by at the Whitley apartment in the hope that Mrs. Radford might call back. A check of our records and identification bureau failed to turn up any record on either the victim or the suspect, his wife. Ed called Georgia Street Receiving Hospital again, but there was no change. Wallace Radford's condition was still critical. At 2.35 a.m. Stella Radford telephoned again. While we listened in, she told Whitley that she'd had no intention of keeping that appointment with him at the Avalon Boulevard bar. She told him that she knew he was working with the police, that she saw officers follow Whitley to the bar where they were supposed to have met. She again warned him of the consequences in the event anybody tried to apprehend her. After she hung up, we checked with the business office and they told us that the calls had been coming from a telephone prefix which was impossible to trace. Ten minutes later, Whitley got another call from the Radford woman. The conversation went on for the better part of 20 minutes. She didn't seem to make much rhyme or reason. Her only concern was the condition of her husband, whether or not he was dead. She hung up abruptly, but 15 minutes later she called Whitley again. Look, Stella, I told you there isn't going to be any trouble. Now why don't you go and talk to Wally? He's lying down there in the hospital. He wants to see you. How about it, huh, Stella? Is he dead or not, that's all I want to know. My boyfriend and I are leaving first thing in the morning. I want to find out before I go. Why don't you at least give me a chance to talk to you, Stella, huh? We've been good friends. You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. You or Wally. Now let me talk to you, huh? There's nothing to talk about. If you've got anything to say, you can tell me now. All I want to do is find out about Wally. I told you he's hurt, but he's going to be all right. It's not serious. Stella? Why don't you stop lying to me? Look, I'm not lying, Stella. I wouldn't lie about something like that. What's the matter with you anyway? You been drinking? What's it your business? You're not kidding me, Ernie. You're trying to help the cops, don't you think? I know that. What kind of a fool you think I am? But I'm trying to help, Stella. That's all. Sure, you're trying to help. Not me, though. You're trying to help the cops. I know they're with you. But we made that date to meet at the bar. You told them all about it. No. You left the house and they left right after you. I know all about it. Stella, no, you got it wrong, honey. I'm trying to help both of you. You and Wally. I'm trying to help the best way I know how. Now, why don't you come home? I told you, we'll straighten the whole thing out. There won't be any trouble. Don't hand me that. I said we're leaving town, me and my boyfriend. Now, what about that money? Ninety-four dollars. She said Wally wanted me to have it. Yeah, that's right. He does. Now, how can I get it to you if you don't trust me? Get away from the cops, that's all. Oh, Stella. Maybe I could use the money, but I'm not giving myself up for it. Look, you're wrong about the cops, Stella. Believe me, you are. Now, why won't you let me meet you someplace? Anyplace you want, just let me talk to you. How many times do I have to tell you there's nothing to talk about? All I want to know is about Wally. Is he dead yet? But I told you, he's not dead. He's going to be all right. Look, why can't you believe me? It's not what they thought. Wally will be okay. Ed, in the next room. But what for, Stella? Why? Now, come on, snap out of it, huh? No, it's the truth, sir. Hold me. Yeah, what's the matter? Well, it just happened to strike me. You hear that streetcar that just went by a minute ago? Yeah, it did. Why? Did you notice a little before that when we were listening on the phone? Sounded like the same thing coming over the line, didn't it? Yeah, come to think of it, it did. Matter of fact, I heard it a couple of times coming over the phone. It's pretty regular. Yeah, that's what I mean. Streetcars have been passing by here regularly, too. Not much of a time lapse, either. Not much more in a minute. Well, I mean, between the time when we hear it over the phone and the time the streetcar actually passes this place. Yeah. Well, if we've got the right angle, there's only one way to figure it here. She's phoning from somewhere in the neighborhood, and she's fairly close, wouldn't you say? Where do we start looking? Well, car tracks only run two ways. Three thirty a.m. Ed and I went back into the next room and continued to monitor the conversation between Whitley and Mrs. Radford. Whitley seemed to know how to keep the suspect talking even though the purpose of her conversation seemed to make little or no sense. At three forty two a.m. while we listened in, on the other end of the line, we again heard the sound of a streetcar approach and pass. Ed checked his watch. Approximately one minute, thirty eight seconds later, we heard a streetcar pass by in front of the apartment court. Before Ed and I left, we jotted down a note for Whitley asking him to keep Mrs. Radford on the line just as long as possible. We got in the car and drove north along the car tracks at about the normal speed of a streetcar. One minute and thirty eight seconds of driving brought us a distance of little more than eight blocks. It was on the fringe of a park area. There were only three residential buildings in the immediate vicinity. There were no lights showing in any of them. We checked the location for public telephones but we found none. Four fifteen a.m. we turned around, drove back to the apartment court and using the same timing procedure, one minute thirty eight seconds at twenty five miles an hour, we drove along the car line in a southerly direction. Sure not much of a choice. Bars are closed. Most of the restaurants. No lights burning on this block. A few up ahead there in the next block, Ed. Yeah. Got to come pretty soon, doesn't it? Yeah, it's a minute right now. I can't see how we'd be wrong on it, can you? Too much to write off is just a coincidence. Minute fifteen seconds. Minute twenty. Better slow down. Yeah. What do you think? It's a service station across the street. It's closed up. Well, a lot of them have outside pay phones, don't they? You see any? No. None on this side. Let's see how full up in there, huh? Yeah. There's a full booth in the back there. There's no lights, though. Looks like somebody in it. Looks like a woman. Yeah, it is. Come on. All right. Hold it up, lady. She's running for it, Joe. All right. Come on. Come on. Hold it up, lady. Police officer. Let go. Let go of me. What do you think you're doing? Police officers, lady. Here's our identification. Mike, talk to you. You leave me alone. Just leave me alone. That's all. I don't have to talk to you. Your name's Stella Radford, isn't it? No. No, it isn't. Is that your identification? Who sent you here? Who was it? Are you Stella Radford? You couldn't have found out. How'd you know I was here? It was Ernie, wasn't it? Him and his friends. He told you. No, ma'am. I don't see how you found me. Somebody had to tell you. You never could have found me. I don't see how I made any mistake. Yeah, that's right. Let's go, lady. The story you have just heard was true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On April 16th, trial was held in Superior Court, Department 88, 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, as you know, Fatima cigarettes makes it possible for us to bring you this Dragnet series. Each week, of course, we set aside a couple of minutes to tell you about Fatimas. We've already told you why we believe Fatima is the best of all king-sized cigarettes. The rest is up to you. I suggest you buy a pack of Fatimas and compare them yourself. Fatimas give you an extra mild and soothing smoke, plus the added protection of Fatima quality, something no other cigarette has. Look for that bright, sunny yellow pack tomorrow and try Fatima. The victim of the shooting, Wallace John Radford, recovered from his wounds and refused to press charges against his wife. However, she was tried in Superior Court and found guilty of section 245 P.C. assault with a deadly weapon. She was sentenced to the term prescribed by law. Assault with a deadly weapon is punishable by imprisonment in the state penitentiary for a term not less than one nor more than ten years. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Joseph M. Kinnick, President of the California State Juvenile Officers Association. Thank you. The California State Juvenile Officers Association has asked me to present this award of merit to Jack Webb and to Dragnet for outstanding service to law enforcement in the authentic and sympathetic portrayal of the police officer in the field of delinquency control. Thank you very much, Mr. Kinnick, and I'll be looking forward to meeting you again and the members of your association at your annual conference banquet tomorrow night here in Los Angeles. 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 Barney Phillips, Herb Ellis, Jack Crouchon, Helen Cleave. Script by Jim Moser. Music by Walter Schuman. Hal Gibney speaking. Fatima cigarettes. Best of all, king-size cigarettes has brought you Dragnet, transcribed from Los Angeles. Ladies and gentlemen, nature plus the threat of man-made catastrophes make continuing help in constant preparedness necessary. The Red Cross binds these needs. Answer the Red Cross call with a generous contribution. Next, it's Mr. Kinn, tracer of lost persons on NBC. Thank you.
