The story you are about to hear is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Fatima cigarettes, king size, extra mild and soothing, brings you drag mess on both radio and television. You're an investigating sergeant. You're assigned a traffic division, AID. Death and tragedy is forecast for the people of your city. You don't know who the victims will be. You don't know how many there will be. Your job? Try and stop it. Compare Fatima with any other king size cigarette. Yes, compare Fatima 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 percent longer than standard cigarette size. Fatima gives you more for your money. And in king size Fatima, you get an extra mild and soothing smoke. Plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Buy Fatima in the bright, sunny yellow pack. Drag Mess, 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 violence. From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Drag Mess is the story of your police force in action. It was Thursday, July 3rd. It was warm in Los Angeles. We were working the night watch out of traffic division, accident investigation. My partner is Frank Smith. The boss is Deputy Chief Caldwell. My name's Friday. I was on the way back from the scene of the accident and it was 9.42 p.m. when I got to Georgia Street Receiving Hospital, second floor, treatment room five. Hi, how's it going? Not too good. How are they? Bad, all four of them. Girl was riding in the front seat, both legs crushed. Talking to Doc Hall, nothing they can do, gonna have to amputate. That's a shame. All the parents been notified? Yeah, they're on their way down now. Cigarette? Yeah, thanks. I got a match. All right, thank you. Still touch and go with the kid who was driving, the wheeler boy. Doc doesn't give him much of a chance. Possible to get a statement from them? No, still unconscious. They get pictures of the wreck, all right? Yeah, they did. The car the kids were in laid down 207 feet of skid marks. From the condition of the car, it's a wonder any of them are alive. Not a straight piece of metal in the wreck frame. How about that couple in the sedan they sideswiped? Doctors and sure both have internal injuries. Woman's right leg is fractured, man has a possible concussion. Bouncy thing. Every one of them's old enough to know better. What made them think they could get away with it? Oh, hi, doctor. Friday. Any change, doc? Which one you mean? The wheeler boy. No, still the same. The other three kids are doing a little better. It's a shame none of them are more than 14, 15 years old, aren't they? Both the girls are 13, the wheeler boy's 16, the other boy's 12. Pretty young to be out alone burning up the streets. How'd that happen? Well, one of the girls told us that the wheeler boy picked up the three of them about 8 o'clock tonight. Asked them if they wanted to go for a ride in his father's new car. Well, they thought they were going down to the neighborhood driving for a coke. Yeah. Well, the girl said they drove around the neighborhood for a while. The wheeler boy was bragging about what a good driver he was, how fast the car would go. Kept telling the kids that he could drive as fast as his father did. Yeah, well, I hear it's too bad you can't hold a fire. Yeah, it's pretty obvious he didn't set much of an example. Well, the girl told us that the wheeler boy drove down the highway. She spotted a police car behind him and told the wheeler kid to slow up. He said something like, my father outran a cop the other day, if he can do it, I know I can. Well, the kids pleaded with him to pull over and stop and he wouldn't listen. Told him to shut up and hang on and he'd show him some real fancy driving. He had to chase him more than 19 miles, Doc. Car in pursuit, radioed in for help. We tried to block off the intersections ahead of him. They were just going too fast. How'd the boy crack up? Side swiped the sedan with that old couple in it. Lost control of the car, went into a skid. The car hit the curb, blew a tire. Piled head on into a parked truck. The impact drove the engine of the truck right back into the cab. I never saw anything like it. The car the kids were in was almost broken in half. Well, I've done everything I can for him. I'll keep the wheeler boy in the critical room, nurses in there with him now. I'll move the other three back into the ward. We want to make our report, Doc. You got an M.T. slip on up? Yeah, I just finished it. It's right in here. Thank you. You know, I got a 16-year-old boyfriend. Every time I make one of these things up, I say a prayer. Yeah. Hope they never have to make one up for my boy. Well, excuse me. I'd better go back in there and check on that youngster. All right, Doc. Thanks. Look at this M.T., Frank. Everything in the book. What's that? Listen. Grace Andrews, 13 years, occupation student. Fractured jaw, teeth knocked out, facial cuts, internal injuries, crushed pelvis and shock. Here's the next one. Nancy Haynes, 13 years, occupation student. Deep facial cuts, compound fractures of the right and left legs, crushed chest, possible concussion and shock. Waterboy, Walter Stewart, 12 years, occupation student. Deep facial cuts and contusions, shock and possible concussion. Fractured ribs, possible puncture of the left lung, left hand severed above the knuckles. Here's the slip on the Wheeler boy. Charles Wheeler, 16 years, occupation student. Crushed forehead, possible spinal fracture, both legs broken, fractured ribs, broken pelvis, deep facial cuts, severe internal injuries and shock. My name is Wheeler. Where's my boy? What have you done with him? Take it easy, Mr. Wheeler. Doctor will be out in a minute. I don't want the doctor. I want to see my boy. Where is he? What happened anyway? Would you keep your voice down, please? The doctor will see you in a minute. He's with your son now. Who are you? What do you know about it? Police officers. Your boy had an accident. We're investigating it. I know he had an accident. They already told me that. Whose fault was it? Who ran into him? Nobody ran into him, Mr. Wheeler. The accident was his fault. What do you mean, it couldn't have been? That boy's a good driver. I taught him myself. Would you keep your voice down, please? I want to get to the bottom of this thing. I want to see my boy. What are you stalling me for? Nobody's stalling you, sir. You can see your boy as soon as the doctor okays it. I'm going to take him to my own doctor. I wouldn't trust my boy in a place like this. Who ordered him here anyway? We did. It was an emergency. The ambulance took him here from the scene of the accident. Well, you still haven't told me how it happened. Now why do you say it was his fault? Why are you accusing him? It was his fault, Mr. Wheeler. There's no doubt about it. He was speeding and a police car tried to catch him. He tried to outrun him. In the process, he ran into a parked truck. I knew it wasn't his fault. Sir? Sir, he was going a little too fast. Charlie's a good driver. Why'd you have to chase him? Probably the cause of the whole thing. You're the ones to blame. Take it easy, Mr. Wheeler. Take it easy? Nothing. Why couldn't you let the kid alone? He could drive as well as I can. Think I'd let the kid have my new car if he couldn't handle it? What about a driver's license, sir? You'd still have one? Well, no. I didn't have a chance to get him one. Too busy to take him down there for the test. It's a stupid thing anyway. Any more on can pass it. The point is, you didn't have to chase him. He wasn't hurting anybody, was he? I taught him how to drive. He drives just like I do. He's a fast driver, but he's a good one. I ought to know. All radio cars had to chase your boy 19 miles, Mr. Wheeler. 11 cars chased him. Your boy was endangering the life of everybody on that highway. In the 25-mile-an-hour zone, he was clocked at better than 70 miles an hour. At one time, we figured he must have been doing better than 90. He went through a dozen boulevard stops. He barely missed a woman pedestrian. The woman had a baby in her arms. Just before he cracked up, he sideswiped another car, an old couple in it. They're in this hospital, too, and they're hurt. They're hurt bad. Now, you go ahead inside and make those two old people believe your son's a good driver, that he's just having some innocent fun, will you? It's not all his fault. He probably wouldn't have done it if you didn't chase him. I know my boy can handle a car. I've raced cops myself once in a while. Charlie was with me. He's cool. He knows what he's doing behind the wheel. Just because you drive fast doesn't make you a bad driver. It helps. Frank. Yeah, Doc. Can you spare a minute? Sure. This is Mr. Wheeler, father of the boy who was driving the car. This is Dr. Hall. Where's Charlie? I want to see him. I'm sorry, sir. You'll have to wait a few minutes. He's lost a lot of blood. They're giving him another transfusion. What's the matter with him? How bad is he hurt? There's a report, but it's yourself. What kind of treatment are you giving him? You sure you know what you're doing? I think so. I've been on this job for 11 years. That's how long I've been dealing with fools like you. What? I heard you running and raving out here at these offices. Well, let me tell you this, mister. All three of you were wrong. That boy of yours lying in there isn't a bling. You are his own father. You were driving that car tonight. I heard you ranting out here. You taught him how to drive. He can drive as well as you can. He's cool. He knows how to handle a car. You taught him how to race cops. Well, the results are inside, Mr. Wheeler. Look here. I don't want any sermons from you. I want to see my boy. I want to see him right now. You're not going to get any sermons from me. They wouldn't help you. But I'm going to tell you what's on my mind. I've seen your kind for years. I've sewed them up. I've patched them up. And I've pulled a sheet over their face. So far you're lucky it hasn't happened to you. You're on borrowed time. It must be true what they say. The good Lord takes care of the fools and the drunks. Well, I can tell you now I wouldn't feel half as bad if it was you inside there on that bed instead of your son. Oh, when are people like you going to learn? When are you going to learn? I came down here to see my son. You're not impressing me a bit. Well, then maybe you ought to come down here some weekend, some holiday. Maybe that'll impress you. You stand inside that treatment room with me and watch them come over that table. A lot of them come in married and go out widowed, all kinds, all ages. They pull them out of the wrecks and they drag them in here and they expect miracles from us. They're battered and broken and some of them you have to look twice because it's hard to tell they're human beings. You know who's responsible, Mr. Wheeler? You know who? Arrogant, egotistical, good, fast drivers like you. Well, I'm sick of you, Mr. Wheeler. I'm sick of the whole rotten, stupid mess. I'm sick of fools like you. Dr. Hall? Yeah. Be a moment, please. Yeah, all right. Sure makes himself out of an expert, doesn't he? Is it preached to everybody who comes in here? No, matter of fact, he's usually pretty quiet. What's the matter with him? You know the wrong side of bed? Maybe this will explain it. He's got a 16-year-old boy of his own. What's he beefing about? It's my kid that's hurt, not his. Every kid he treats is hit. Mr. Wheeler? Is it all right? Can I see Charlie now? Yeah. Thanks. I'm sorry about everything, doctor. I really am. I'm sorry. It's all right, Mr. Wheeler. The boy's dead. When George Wheeler recovered from the initial shock of his son's death, we told him it was necessary that the body be removed to the county morgue where an autopsy would be performed the following day. After that, his son's remains would be available to a mortuary of the family's choosing. Frank and I drove back to the office where we filed a 311 dead body report on 16-year-old Charles Wheeler. After that, we called the coroner's office and notified them to pick up the body at Georgia Street Receiving Hospital. 10.35 p.m. We left the traffic division garage and went back on the air. We were cruising the central area. 10.53 p.m. We got the call. Aliso in spring. Ambulance follow-up. Victim of a hit-and-run driver. We were within a block of the call. Must be it up ahead, Joe, on the corner. Oh, yeah. Pull up any place right here, I guess. All right, come on. Slide out my side, huh? Yeah. Let it through, Chris. Police officers, excuse me. Pardon me. I wonder if I can get through here, please. Excuse us. Doctor? You fellas doctors? No, we're police officers. Oh, yeah, I see. Where's the ambulance? Be here in a minute. How did it happen? The old man was trying to cross the street. A bus hit him. Look at him. Terrible, cruel guy. You work around here? Yeah, I sell papers right over in that corner over there. My name's Harry Joe Hanson. You want me for a witness? Frank, get his name and address. Will you all check the old man? Yeah, right. All right, now, don't move around, Dad. Don't move around. The ambulance will be here in a minute. I'm hurt, Dad. Terrible pain in my back. Your legs hurt you, Dad? No, I don't feel the pain in my legs. It's just my back. I got a terrible pain. What's your name? Clyde, Clyde Logan. Where do you live, Dad? Over there. It's up in the corner, apartment 37. Could you go over and see your owner? See if she's all right. She's gonna be awful worried. Yeah, we'll take care of it. You been drinking, Dad? Well, it was the nightcap. The doctor said I ought to have it and glass support every night. I was just on my way home when it happened. Oh, oh, my God. You sure it was just a glass support, Dad? Yeah, that's right. I never touch anything but that. Glass support before I go to bed. See, would you please send somebody to see about Rill, apartment 37? She's gonna be awful worried. Yeah, sir. We'll take care of it. Oh, this feels terrible. I gotta get up. Help me out, will you, Officer? All right. You sure you feel up to it, Dad? I don't know. It's an awful pain in my back. I know I'm not supposed to move till the ambulance gets here, but... Maybe it'll go away if I stand up. All right, sir. Here you go. Easy now. All right. Frank, see you in a minute. Yeah. Cancel the ambulance, will you? We don't mean it. Cancel it. Call the wagon. Yeah, all right. You ever gonna get help, Sergeant? Are they coming for me? Yeah, you're gonna get help, Dad. It's on the way. I come to the corner here and I start to cross over. What do you think right out of the door? This big red bus come up the street and must have been going 60. It kept right on going. I thought for a minute there I was gone for sure. Did you say it was a big red bus? Red or blue, what's the difference? They run me down. Oh, look at that. Get the ambulance quick. Look at that. What's that? My shirt's right here. Look, it's all red. It's black. I don't know what it is. Hey, so you got a patient today? Then I know. Do you always seem to be in the thick of things? How many people does it hold? Get some help. I'm bleeding to death. Get some help. Oh, there's a sharp pain in my ribs. Let's take your coat off here. That's the eye drop. That's better. The pain's gone now. Well, I don't know what your blood type is, Dad, but you're bleeding port wine. Oh, no. Worse than I thought it was, Dad. You broke your bottle of port. It's all wrapped up in papers, too. So wonder how it happened. Just look at my brand new shirt, all that good wine. Joe, now I canceled the ambulance, called Communications for the wagon. What's the story? Say, would you please send somebody up to my place to see Leona? It's Apartment 37, building right up in the corner. Please look after Leona. Yeah, we'll tell her, Dad. Oh, say, when you see her, would you please give her this? What's this? A piece of liver. Leona just loves liver. I didn't know you were married, Clyde, when that happened. I'm not married. Well, then who's Leona? That's my cat, the best friend we've got in the world. Where's the ambulance? No, there's not going to be any ambulance, Dad. We've got a car coming instead. Listen, I'm a sick man, Sergeant. I need an ambulance. You're a hit-and-run victim every time you get in a port wine, Dad. I don't know what you mean. It's a class of port every night. That's all we ever take. What time do you think it is now? I don't know. I went over with the jacket. It's about 8 o'clock. Must be 8.15, 8.30. Why? It's 10 minutes past 11, Dad. You're overdue. You got it, Joe. It's a pitch. Don't you know him? No, I don't think so. Clyde Logan. Got an arrest sheet as long as your arm. Somebody down at Central tagged him with the name Hit-and-Run Logan, town character. What's the idea of the hit-and-run story? Oh, he likes attention. Every time he gets loaded, he likes to ride in an ambulance with a siren wide open, so he lays down on the street pretending he's been hit. I see. Every city's got at least one of them, I guess. Some of them turn in fire alarms, some of them confess to murder, some of them just beat their wives. Clyde likes to be a hit-and-run victim. Say, what are you going to do? You're going to lock me up? No choice, Dad. Well, I suppose not. Say, would you talk to the jailer and see if I could get my old job back? I mean, you know, anything in the kitchen. I like to work in the kitchen. All right, we'll talk to him. Now, just one more thing. Yeah? Would you go see Jackie Martin for me? Place right up the street there, you know, you see the sign there? Yeah, uh-huh. Jackie's Old Time Wine Shop. That's the place. Well, you go in there and you ask for Jackie to tell him that I sent you, you see, and you can say that he's not going to get any more of my business. You tell him I won't even pay him what I owe him. What's the matter, Dad? Why are you mad at him? Well, I've got good enough reason. All the trade that I've given him and all the money I spent there had doubled costs. You can't keep customers that way and he'll find that out. What do you mean, Dad? Well, look, right here on the sidewalk. Yeah? Jackie Martin, him and his cheap bottles. You are listening to Dragnet, authentic stories of your police force in action. Friends, because of its quality, its extra mildness, its better flavor and aroma, more smokers coast to coast are switching to king-size Fatimas every day. Yes, more smokers coast to coast are finding that in Fatima, the difference is quality. Now here's the practical way to prove Fatima quality yourself. Compare Fatima 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. Fatima gives you more for your money. And in king-size Fatima, you get an extra mild and soothing smoke, plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Remember, more and more of your friends are switching to king-size Fatimas. Compare them yourself, king-size Fatima, extra mild and soothing, plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Look for the bright, sunny yellow pack. Buy king-size Fatima. Thursday, July 3rd, 1130 p.m. It was still half an hour ago before the July 4th weekend even started. But in the last seven and a half hours, central traffic had answered 13 major accident calls. Four of them were fatalities. If it was any indication of the next 72 hours, the 4th of July weekend was due to spell death and tragedy for more people than we figured. At 1220 a.m., we received another ambulance follow-up call, this time at 11th and Georgia. A young couple on a motorcycle trying to beat the stop signal had crashed headlong into the side of an eastbound bus. One was taken to the hospital, one was taken to the county morgue. 1220 a.m., after taking care of the necessary reports, we impounded the motorcycle. The next half hour was fairly quiet. 1255 a.m., we went off the air and stopped to have a cup of coffee. At 1100 a.m., we called back in service. We continued cruising the central area. At 148 a.m., 12 minutes before quitting time, we got a call for Wilshire and Toberman Street, an ambulance follow-up, city property damaged, motor officer. At 115 a.m., we arrived at the scene. Approximately 20 feet from the southwest corner, a police motorcycle was sprawled on the street. The front of it was demolished. The motorcycle, lying face down on the street, was the figure of a man in a police uniform. All right, would you step back, please? Up on the sidewalk. Please, everybody, back up there on the sidewalk, please. Help me. Please. All right, don't try to move, fella. It's in Brian's. Yeah. Hey, Mike. Mike? Tried to miss it. Couldn't help it. Take it easy. Now, don't try to talk. Ambulance is on the way, Mike. Don't kid me, Joe. Chest? My chest hurts. Hey, but my collar can't breathe. All right, sure, Mike. Come on, take it easy. Now, don't move. Chasing this car, cream convertible. Man, woman, think he was a 502. Big chase, red light, siren. Siren. All right, now take it easy, Mike. Relax. Other car turned. Other car turned right in front of me. I saw it. Nothing I could do. Couldn't stop. Turned right in front of me. Evelyn. Gonna go see her. Evelyn. She's waiting. All right, will you take it easy, Mike? Don't talk and don't move. Joe. This will work out all right. Take it easy. Joe. Evelyn. Evelyn. Joe. Mike. Mike. Joe, got a coat here. Slip it under his head and be more comfortable. No, he doesn't need it, Frank. He's comfortable. 1 57 a.m. The ambulance arrived and O'Brien's body was removed to the county morgue. Photographs were taken, diagrams were drawn and statements taken from the witnesses. A truck from Central Garage arrived and started removing a dead officer's motorcycle. Mike and I went over and started interviewing the driver of the car which O'Brien had collided with. She identified herself as Corrine Norton, a bookkeeper at a South Los Angeles defense plant. I was making a left turn, that's all. Next thing I knew he hit my car. You can see what he did to it. Who's gonna pay for the damages? We can talk about that later, Miss Norton. Our first concern is we'd like to find out what happened. Well, there's nothing to it. I already told you. This cop ran into me. There wasn't anything I could do. Would you start from the beginning, please, and tell us exactly what happened here? From the beginning of what? I told you. He ran into my car. What more do you want to know? Sorry it happened, but I couldn't help it. Look at my car. How am I gonna get to work in the morning? Will you please tell us what happened here, Miss? Just as near as you can remember. Well, I was going down this way on Wilshire on my way home. I started to make a left turn onto Toberman and this cop on the motorcycle drove right into me. Wasn't anything I could do. His fault. I couldn't help it. Could we see your operator's license, please? Certainly. Let's see it. It's someplace. Yeah, here it is. Do you want to read about, Frank? Yeah. California operator's license number, V208-927. Got it. Corrine N-N-E-M Norton. 10,033 Ruth Allen, Los Angeles. 10,033. Right. Female, 5 foot 3 and a half, 123 pounds. Born February 18th, 1909. Blue eyes, brown hair. Must wear adequate glasses. Just a minute. Do you have your glasses with you, Miss Norton? Oh, yes. Right here in my purse. I really don't have to wear them. I can see just as well without them. Were you wearing your glasses at the time of the accident? Yes, I was. I took them off right after the accident. Here they are. Right here in my purse. See? Miss Norton, we understand the motorcycle officer had his red light and siren in operation at the time of this accident. Did you see it or hear it? No, I didn't hear any siren and I certainly didn't see any red light. Then when's the first time you saw the officer, ma'am? When he hit me. Seemed to come out of nowhere. He was going very fast. I see you were in the process of making a left turn. Is that right, Miss Norton? Did you give a hand signal indicating that you were going to turn? Of course I did. I always do. You touched your car since the accident. What do you mean, if I touched it? Was your car just like it was when you were driving it prior to the accident? Yes, I suppose it is. I mean, with the exception of the damage he did. You're sure you gave a hand signal, Miss Norton? Of course I am. What's this all about anyway? Well, if your car is exactly the way it was before the accident and you're telling us the truth here, how do you account for the fact that the left-hand window of your car is still rolled up here? What? The window on the driver's side of your car there. It's closed tight. You couldn't have made a left-hand signal, could you? Well, I don't understand it. I'm sure I made a signal. I think so anyway. Are you trying to say I'm to blame for that cop's death? We're not trying to say anything, ma'am. We're trying to get the facts here. Well, you certainly have a funny way of doing it. What do you call facts anyway? Trying to incriminate me in this thing? I was making a left turn and he ran into me. It's as simple as that. I don't know what you're so excited about. The man just died, Miss Norton. We're trying to find out why. Why ask me? I didn't kill him speeding along on a motorcycle like that. He shouldn't have been going that fast anyway. That's his job, ma'am. That's what they pay him for. He was chasing a drunk driver. All right, that's his job. He knew it was dangerous when he took it. Yes, ma'am. Part of his job, that's what we pay him for. Well, he's dead, Miss Norton. Who's going to pay him for that? 2.15 a.m. A traffic car took Kareem Norton downtown to the station where her statement was to be taken and a further investigation made. Frank and I contacted Sergeant Joe Whitehead of the medical detail and informed him of Mike O'Brien's death. He told us he'd notify the business office and the parents of the dead officer. Because of our close association with O'Brien, we happened to know that he planned to get married July 15th, the first day of his vacation. The girl he was going to marry was an Evelyn Monroe. She lived in the Silver Lake district. We told Whitehead that we'd notify her. 2.30 p.m. Frank and I drove out Sunset Boulevard to the girl's house. Oh, hi, Frank. Joe. How are you? Is Mike with you? Well, no, he isn't, Evelyn. Well, come on in. Have some coffee. I'm just waiting for Mike. All right. Thank you. I guess Mike's a little late tonight. Come on in. How do you like your coffee, cream and sugar? Black will be all right, thanks. Both of us. Look at the dining room table. Pretty nice, isn't it? Yeah, well, it's very nice. Nicest wedding present I think I've ever seen. Didn't know we had so many friends. You see what the boys in the motor squad center? Electric mixer, all the attachments, too. Yeah, we see them. Very nice. What's the matter, Joe? Hard day? Yeah, it was. It was a tough one. Oh, you're just like Mike. When he gets off work, he's grumpy as a bear. I don't know why. Nothing tough about your job. You ought to work for the man I work for. Coffee's coming right up. Joe, you're going to have to tell her I can't. Give me a favor and I'll try. Here you are. I think you ought to like these donuts. I got them at the bakery down the street. Mike's crazy about them. Would you sit down, Evelyn, please? Mike'd talk to you. Oh, sure, Joe. You sound serious. What's the matter? It's about Mike, Evelyn. Mike? What about him? He wanted us to come by and see you. He was hurt tonight. Oh, no. Was it bad? Yeah, I'm afraid so. What happened? Where is he? Can I see him? No, no, no. A little later. What happened? They told his mother and dad? Yeah, Evelyn, Joe Whitehead's out there now. Joe Whitehead? Medical detail? Yeah, that's right. He usually doesn't go out right away unless they're dead. Joe? Joe, tell me the truth. What happened to Mike? What happened? Well, he's dead, Evelyn. No. It isn't the truth. He can't be dead. He was chasing a drunk driver over on Wilshire. A woman turned in front of him. Couldn't get out of the way. Didn't have a chance to lay his bike down. Sorry. It's not true. It can't be it's not true. He called me at 11. He'll be here any minute. He'll be here any minute. Mike. Mike. Evelyn, please. There's nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do. Crying would help. I'd cry with you. But it's not right. It isn't right. Why should he die? Why should he? I'm sorry. Went fast. He didn't suffer. Talked about you. The last thing was about you. It's hard to realize. I can't understand it. I can't. No reason for it. No reason for a lot of it. Why, Joe? Why did he have to die? Why did he? I don't know. I've got an idea, maybe, Evelyn. What? Somebody forgot to put out their arms. The story you have just heard was true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On October 2nd, an inquest was held at the County morgue, city and county of Los Angeles, state of California. The coroner's jury returned a verdict of excusable homicide and the death of motorcycle officer Michael O'Brien. In a moment, a word about another trial. Now, here is our star, Jack Webb. Thank you, George Fenomen. Friends, I know a lot of you listeners are going to be taking my advice and switch to Fatima. Now, if you haven't, how about comparing Fatima this weekend for sure? You see, Fatima quality stands out by comparison. That's why I ask you to try Fatima. Compare them with the king-size cigarettes you've been smoking. You'll find Fatima's give you more for your money. An extra mild and soothing smoke, plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Remember, king-size Fatimas in the bright, sunny yellow pack. Normally, at this time, we give you the result or outcome of legal proceedings against a person or persons for criminal action. You've already heard the results of the documentary cases portrayed on Dragnet tonight. Fourth of July weekend is at hand. 40 million automobiles are being sold and more than 1,000 cars are being sold. The whole thing is at hand. 40 million automobiles will drive 5 billion miles. Please make every mile a safe mile. Be considerate of the other driver on the road and have a happy weekend. We don't want to read your name on Dragnet's trial page. Music Ladies and gentlemen, Hal Gibney speaking. Ladies and gentlemen, you may now read Dragnet every day on the comic page of your favorite newspaper. Please consult your local daily paper. King-size Fatima has brought you Dragnet, transcribed from Los Angeles. Yes, adventure is yours tonight with Counter Spy on NBC. Music
