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 to homicide detail. A small boy is reported missing from his home. His age, nine years. Howe Play is suspected. Your job, find him. Dragnet, the documentary 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 to 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, December 22nd. It was cold in Los Angeles. We were working the night watch out of homicide division. My partner is Frank Smith, the boss of Sad Brown Chicken Detective. My name is Friday. I was on the way into work and it was 3.55 p.m. when I got to room 42. Homicide. Hi, John. Frank, what's going on? Oh, nothing. Pretty quiet. How's your mother? Oh, her cold is still hanging on. Bad cough. The doctor said it's nothing serious though. My kid's got the same thing. Must be some kind of a virus going around. Yeah, maybe so. Did you get all the reports on that Webster case yet? Yeah. All taken care of. I'll get it. Homicide, Friday. This is Levin. City Unit 11, J1. Got something for you. Yeah, Harry, what's going? Darnie and I are out here on Hollis Avenue, 4656, trying to track down a nine-year-old boy. What's the story? Kid's missing. Suspicion of foul play. Yeah? How long has he been gone? About two hours. Looks like a job for homicide. How do you figure? A kid was last seen playing in the backyard of his home. Yeah? He was attacked over the yard. Did you find anything? Lots of days, lots of minutes, no. Frank and I left a message for Chief Detective Sad Brown. Then we went over to the crime lab, picked up Ray Pinker, and drove out the Arroyo Sequel freeway to Hollis Avenue. It was an average neighborhood. Number 4656 was a one-story green stucco residence situated on the corner of Hollis Avenue and Harrison Drive. Beyond the backyard was a tract of undeveloped land covered with scrub oaks. Harry Levinson from Holland Park Juvenile was waiting for us in front of the house. It's back this way, fellas. You coming, Ray? I'm gonna get my bag. Who told you the boy was missing, Harry? The mother said she went down to do some Christmas shopping. About 11 this morning left the boy home. Came back about 2 this afternoon. He was gone. What's the name? Johnstone. The kid's name is Stanley, 9 years old. The gate opened like this when you got here? Yeah, we haven't got the stain. There's a stain over here, Mr. Pinker, along the edge of the walk there, you see? Yeah, let me see. Quite a few stains. Looks like it might be blood. Try some benzidine on him. There we are. See what happened. Why's the kid's mother not here? She doesn't know how his daughter's talking to him. She talked to you in Geneva? Yeah, the people next door, the ones in the shed. They couldn't tell us anything. There it is, fellas. Harry. These spots that covered the benzidine, they're turning blue. What stains are they? Can't tell you definitely, whether it's human or animal. You have to go back to the lab to know it through? Yeah, my life's got a citizen test. Anyone want those bright smiles from the bag, will you? One of these? Mm-hmm. Here you are. Thank you. Split some of these plates off for tech. There we are. How soon can you tie the blood for us, Ray? The pre-substance tests won't run more than 20 minutes. It'll take three or four hours to run a blood grouping, though. That's it. That's it. Anything else you want to check? What is this, radio? Yeah, right here under this tin can. Empty shell. 22, huh? Yeah, I might tie in right now. Mark it and dump it in the sand well, will you? Sure. There you go. You got a lifting broadcast for the boy, Harry? Yeah, I did. He did about half an hour ago. Here's a description right here. Thanks. Mother know about the blood stains? No, we didn't tell her. She's weighed enough already. She has no idea what might happen to her boy, huh? No more than we do. Check all the friends or relatives who are covering the neighborhood. No trace so far. Not much to go on. Blood stains, empty cartridge. It could mean a hundred things. Any ideas, Freddy? Just warn them. I don't like it. 430 p.m., Thursday, December 22nd. The neighborhood search for nine-year-old family Johnstone continued. Ray Pinker went back to the crime lab to start the precipitant test and the blood grouping. Eleven symphony's partner, Dorothy, from Highland Juvenile, stood by. We called Chief of Detective Thad Brown, and he ordered up a special detail to aid in the search for the missing boy. Frank and I questioned the boy's mother, Mrs. Ruth, and we found that she was not in the room. We asked her where she was going. She said she was going to the bathroom. We asked her about the boy. Frank and I questioned the boy's mother, Mrs. Ruth Johnstone, a woman in her early 40s. She seemed fairly calm under the circumstances. Mrs. Johnstone, is your boy Stanley in the habit of wandering off without telling you where he's going? No, he's not in the habit of wandering off, but he has done it before. When was the last time, Mrs. Johnstone? You don't have any children, do you Sergeant Friday? No, ma'am. Well, there comes that time in every young boy's life when they know what you mean, I'm a boy. Then you know how it is. My husband and I scolded Stanley one afternoon after school, and he was quite put out about it. But George and I were in fear, packed a few of his things and left. How long was he gone, ma'am? No time at all, about two hours. I was worried about him, but my husband said, believe him alone, said every boy had to go through that stage. Well, then you think he's gone away from home again this time, do you? Yes, I think so. He's been gone about four hours now. Now, I have a funny feeling about it. Did you and his father happen to have some misunderstanding with the boy recently? That's just it, we haven't. I don't mind telling you now that we're talking about it. I'm getting worried. Any place around that you might like to visit, a hobby shop or a playground, something like that where you might be? Yes, there's Johnson's Model Shop, little Helen Woods, but I've already called there and he hasn't been seen all day. I've called all of his friends and they have no idea either. We'd like a list of all of his friends and the places that he would know to frequent, ma'am. That's all right, I'll give them to you. Where do you suppose he is? Where's your husband now, Mrs. Johnston? At work. George works for the city, he's a fireman. Uh-huh. What house is he stationed at? One's in his company, 12. He's working the 8th of June. He'll be home tomorrow morning. I haven't told him that the family's gone. Was there any chance that the boy might be down at the firehouse with his father? No, he's telling me he was down there in the hall. No, I don't think he's there. I'm awfully worried. May I call my husband? I'll tell him when you get out of here. I know George will be worried. The family's been gone too long. Hello, may I speak with George Johnston? This is Mrs. Johnston. Thank you. I hate to call George at his work. Yes, sir. Does your husband know me, young man? Yes, he does. What caliber would you know? 45 automatic. He's got it in him. George? Well, this is Ruth. George is standing down there with you by any chance. Oh, no, I can't find him anywhere. He wasn't here when I came home from doing my shopping. There are two policemen here. No, I said there are two policemen here. No, dear, I'll call you if we don't find him soon. Oh. All right. Yes, you too. Bye. I didn't think he'd be with George. Oh, that 45, is that the only gun in the house, old? Yes. Why are you asking about guns? Has anything happened that you're not telling me about? No, ma'am, just routine second. We'll have to take a look at that 45 if you don't mind. Maybe I should tell you we do have another gun in the house, but it's all wrapped up. George got it at the family's Christmas crib. What if we could look at it for you? Yes, will you have to unwrap it? I'm afraid so. I think I can reach it. You have to hide it, let me see. Oh, here's the piece that was wrapped in. It's standing right the farm as it's gone. You see, here's the gift card and the box of the containment rifle. Uh-huh, could I look at the box, ma'am? Thank you. How about it, Joe? 22 caliber. Thursday, December 22nd, 5 15 p.m. It was getting dark. The search for the missing boy continued. We checked the list of Stanley Johnstone's friends. None of them or their parents had any idea of his whereabouts. We talked with Levinson again. He'd been in touch with the detail combing the neighborhood. They'd found nothing. We went down to Hollop Avenue and 10th Street, service station on the corner. Do you want a dime, Joe? No, I got one. You watch the chief there on us. Yeah. There you go. 2667, please. 2667. How am I, uptaker? How are you, Joe Friday? Yeah, Joe. Any sign of Johnstone, kid? No, not yet. How are you coming? He's coming to serve us in terms of human blood. Uh-huh. We're not a blood group now. You know what type of Johnstone boy he is? Well, he didn't want to upset his mother. He thought I'd riddle the last thing we're in the neighborhood. Check with a family physician. That way you won't disturb her. Yeah, we figured on that. Just a minute, Ray. Yeah, thanks. The box is cold. The box is really cold. Ray, say I'm bound down here now. Check you later, huh? Right, Joe. Right. Okay. Jenny? How's it going? Where's the chick with Ray Pinker? Yeah, I know. It's human blood. What do you think? We talked with the boy's mother, Mrs. Johnstone. Sounded a gun missing. Yep. Caliber's the same as the empty case in Levenson. Sounded 22. He said the gun was missing. Yeah, the Johnstones are going to give it to the boy's Christmas present. My head is hidden, but it's gone now. Any idea who took it? Well, over at work. They left the Christmas wrapping behind. I can leave it with the kid. 22-year-old boy. What are we going to learn? First it's carbide cannons on the 4th of July. The city issued ordnance after ordnance, but a few thousand kids around the country had to lose their eyes, fingers, hands, for the parents to give us their full cooperation to outlaw them. I know what you mean. Sure you do. You and every other cop in the country became the heavy trying to clamp down on them. Now it's the same story. This time it's gun for Christmas. I know what you're thinking, Chief, but we're not sure yet. Listen, Friday, there's a city ordnance against giving a gun to a kid. Now you know that. Yeah, I know that. There's a missing boy and a missing gun. There's blood on the ground and an empty shell. That's enough for me. We're going to stay with it, Chief. Something's got to break. Yeah. I hope it's not the house of that kid's parents. Hi, Chief. I've been looking for you, Friday. Yeah, what have you got here? Found a gun, a new.22 rifle. I'd say it's been fired recently. Where'd you find it, Levinson? Back up there in that scrub oak behind the Johnstone house. Mrs. Johnstone identified it. Buckley took it down to crime lab. Thanks, Harry. Is Miss Johnson okay? She's pretty sick now. Chilby came up with something else. He said there's another one missing, an eight-year-old boy. Six thirty p.m. We talked with Officer Chilby about the other missing boy. He told us that his name was Steven Martin, eight years old. His family had just moved into the neighborhood. It seemed that no one besides the Martin family knew that the boys played together. Mrs. Martin told us that Steven told her that he was going out to play and he'd be home by six o'clock for dinner. She told us that he was an unusually prompt boy and almost never overstayed his playtime. We got a description of the Martin boy and put out a missing broadcast. We called the Johnstone family doctor. He told us that Stanley's blood was type O. At seven p.m. we talked again with Mrs. John Martin. Are you sure Mrs. Johnson doesn't know where the boys are? She has no idea, Mrs. Martin. Oh, this is terrible. Just awful. I feel there's more to this thing, something you're not telling me. Well, there's no use to upset you until we know a few more things for sure, ma'am. Then you are holding something back. Well, please try not to worry, Mrs. Martin. There are certain questions we have to ask, routine questions in any kind of investigation. Is there anything else you want to know? Yes, ma'am. What's your boy's blood type? Funny question. Do you think anything's happened to him? Have you found him and you're not telling me? No, ma'am. We haven't found him and we don't think anything's happened to him. His blood type, huh? Yes, ma'am. Well, I think I have it written down in Stevie's baby book. Yes. Yes, here he is. The type is O. Type O, thank you. What if I use your phone? Oh, yes, of course. It's in the hall. Be right back, Frank. Yeah. Here you go. 2667, please. 2667. Cramalatt Pinker. Hi Ray, this is Frank. Yeah, did you get the blood types on the two missing boys? Yeah, both type O. So was the stage, Joe. Type O. You are listening to Dragnet, the authentic story of your police force in action. The modern way to sell cigarettes is the Chesterfield way, both regular and king-sized, and we're the only one that does it. We tell you what Chesterfields are made of to give you premium quality in both popular sizes. Our scientists select the best materials. They select for Chesterfield the world's best tobaccos, blend them just right, and they keep Chesterfields tasty and fresh with the best of moistening agents. Now here's something else that's completely modern about Chesterfield. People smoke. Eight p.m. Thursday, December 22nd. Still no sign of either of the missing boys. Chief of Detective Thad Brown went back to headquarters to direct the search from there. He dispatched another detail of 50 men to aid in the hunt for the missing youngsters. Eight thirty p.m. It was getting colder. The citrus growers were warned to expect a freeze. We went back up the block to see Mrs. Johnstone. Her husband had quit work early and returned home. We talked with him. He could tell us nothing more than we already knew. We still had not informed either of the families about the blood stains and the empty cartridge casing which had been discovered in the backyard of the Johnstone home. It was more than possible that they had a right to know about our findings, but Frank and I felt there was no cause to add to their distress at this particular time. If the two missing boys were found alive and well, then the blood stains and the cartridge would be of no concern to the released parents. At eight forty p.m., Frank and I left the Johnstone house and went to the home of Mr. and Mrs. John Martin. Mrs. Martin, you said your husband worked at the market. Yes. He telephoned about fifteen minutes ago and said he was closing up right away. He'd be there any minute. I do wish Stevie would call or come home. It's so cold out tonight. All he had on was a thin cotton jacket. Try not to worry. We're doing everything we can. Stevie, are you all right? Stevie's father's such a sensitive man. And the boy was so close. I know he's terribly upset. Yes, ma'am. Are you sure there's no place you might have forgotten? Someplace where the boy might be. No. No place. No. If anything's happened to the boy, it'll just kill John. Mrs. Martin, you just sit still. I'll get it. Thank you. Joe, here, Harry. Johnstone case has been found. He's home, Sergeant. He's come home. Thank God he's all right. Well, where's he been, did he tell you? No. No, he didn't. His clothes were all dirty and he was acting strange. I've never seen him like this. How do you mean, Mrs. Johnstone? He just came in the front door and said, hello, Mom, and then he sat down and cheered and stared at the floor. He talked to his father and then he... Do you mind if I talk to him? No, go ahead. I asked him about the little Martin boy. He wouldn't tell me a thing. Where is he now? Right over there in the living room. Oh, yeah. Looks all right. Yes. Son, this is a police officer. He wants to talk to you. Don't be afraid, Danny. He only wants to ask you some questions. Son, you see, Sergeant? Yes, ma'am. Stanley? Come on, boy, look at me. Come on, you have to get your head out. Oh, that's better. You know, your mother's pretty worried, you know that. You want to tell us where you've been? I wish I could try to get in to eat a little something. You hear that, son? You want something to eat? Stanley, there's another little boy up the street who hasn't come home. Do you know where he is? His father and mother are worried about him, too, just like your folks were. You've got to help us find him, son. I killed him. I killed Steve with the 22. We didn't only kill him, but I killed him. How do you know you killed him? He's only hurt, not him? No, he's dead. I'm really dead. The gun went off. We forgot we put bullets in it. Where is he, Stanley? I hit him. I was scared. I didn't want anybody to find him. Where did you hide him, son? In a cave up on the hill. I didn't mean it. He went my way. Do you want to show us where he's standing? Yes, sir. I'll show you. Please don't show me the jail. 9.15 p.m., Thursday, December 22nd. Nine-year-old Stanley Johnstone led the way up the hill behind the backyard of his home. He showed us the wagon he'd moved the body in. His father came along with us. About 50 feet from the crest of the hill, a boy pointed to a thicket of scrub oats. There we found a small cave holding the body of Stephen Martin. There was a single bullet wound in his chest just below his heart. He was dead. We covered the body. Stanley, how did it happen? Well, some other folks had been giving me a drink for Christmas. We were at Redmond Garden. There was a box of books with it. Were you pointing again at Stephen, son? Not much, but I was. It was past Christmas. I was chasing a big ship with a gun in his throat. The gun hit him in the stomach and it went off. Well, why do you think you killed him if you're telling us the truth here? I'm telling the truth. Honest. It's the truth. All right, I believe you, son. Well, why do you think you killed him? My gun. It's giving me life, but I didn't go get it. I said a little bit of Christmas. It's all my fault. Where have you been all this time? In the cave with Steve. What were you doing in there, son? I was training. I was training for the dog and the gull. After a thorough investigation, Frank and I were convinced that the shooting of Stephen Martin was accidental. Ray Pinker's findings substantiated the John Stone boy's story even to the smallest detail. We put in a call to the coroner's office and acquainted him with a fact. He designated a locomotivary to handle the body pending autopsy and granted us permission to remove the body to the Martin home. Mrs. Martin collapsed. The family doctor was called. Frank and I sat in the living room to wait for John Martin, the dead boy's father. Peter? Peter? Mr. Martin? Yes. You're the police? Yes, sir. Where's Peter? Where's my wife? Has my boy come home? Well, have you found him? Yes, sir. Where is he? Steve? Steve-y? Where's Steve? He's hurt, isn't he? Yes, sir. Where is he? I want to see him. He's hurt pretty bad. Where is he? I want to see him. How bad? Pretty bad. He's... he's dead. All right, if I go in? Yes, sir, if you want to. Will you go with me? Yes, sir. Don't make it any harder on yourself, Mr. Martin. I want to see my boy. I promise. My... my... my... My... my... Steve-y? Listen to me, son. Think about all the nice things for Christmas. Do anything you want to. Think about the three new cars for the train. The horn with the switch light on it really works, son. Think about the switch you want it. You know what's going to happen. I want to see my son. My son. Steve-y. Look at him. Look at Steve-y. Look at him. Look at him. Uncle, it's my wife. Mr. Martin. I'm sorry. What happened? It was an accident. He was playing with a Johnstone boy up the street. Playing with a gun. It went off. What... what would the other boys need? Family, Johnstone. It was an accident. Mr. Martin, where are you going? I want to see that boy. We had no idea what the dead boy's father had in mind. We didn't feel that we should try to restrain him. We went along with him up the street to the Johnstone home. I'm Steve-y's father. Where's your boy? I'm sorry. Where's your boy? He's right here. Won't you come in? It's all right, Miss Johnstone. You're the boy that was with Steve-y. What's your name? Daniel. I'm sorry, Mr. Martin. I know it wasn't your fault, Stanley. I wonder if you'd do something for me. Yes, sir. I've got a lot of nice presents for Steve-y. I know he'd want you to have them. I would have given them to you. Christmas Eve. Mom, I think that'd be a fine idea, son. Come on, Frank. Here. Well, what's it all prove, Joe? You don't give a kid a gun for Christmas. The story you have just heard was true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On December 3rd, the coroner's inquest was held in the County Mord County of Los Angeles, State of California. In a moment, the results of that inquest. At the coroner's inquest, it was officially recorded that Stephen Martin's death was the result of an accident. Stanley Johnstone was absolved of any legal responsibility for his friend's death. You have jumped her 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. The tonight were Ben Alexander, William Johnstone, Sammy Ogg. Script by Jim Moser. Music by Walter Schuman. Hal Gibney speaking.
