The story you're about to hear is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned a juvenile detail. You get a call from Georgia Street Receiving Hospital. A two-year-old child has been brought in. Her condition is critical. There's evidence of foul play. Your job, check it out. It was Sunday, August 14th. It was warm in Los Angeles. We were working the night watch out of juvenile detail. My partner is Frank Smith. The boss is Captain Powers. My name is Friday. I was on my way back from detention cells and it was 728 P.M. when I got to the second floor of Georgia Street juvenile squad room. Hi, how'd it go? Nothing. Those kids won't cop to a thing. What about the weapons? They only admit they had them and that's all. Nothing about what they were going to do with them? No. I don't know, Joe. Today, kids got a lot more than we ever had. TV, cars, a lot of things. Yeah. Still seems like they aren't happy unless they're figuring out how to beat somebody's brains out. It doesn't go for all of them. Well, enough to give us a headache. Yeah. Take those kids upstairs. If they spent the same time doing something constructive that they do making the zip guns and saps, they'd have something worthwhile, something worth remembering. Well, maybe it'll work out the same way. What do you mean? They won't forget this. You have an old Friday. You got it, Doc. Why don't you come in? Anybody with it? Give me that again, will you? Yeah, I got it. Okay. We'll check it. That's right. We'll get back to you later. Thanks, Doc. Bye. It was Dr. Sebastian. Yeah. Just brought a little girl into emergency. Had convulsions. What's she doing? Dead on arrival. Frank and I notified Homicide Division, then we left the office and drove out to the address I'd gotten on the phone. 1784 Malabar Street was a small wooden house set on the back of a lot. A dead oak tree in the front yard was overgrown with ivy. Several broken and rusted children's toys were half hidden in the weeds near the front porch. We rang the front doorbell. Somebody ought to be home. The lights are on. Let's try it again. Yeah, somebody's coming. Uh-huh. Yes? Miss Manson? That's right. What do you want? Police officers would like to talk to you. We have to go through it all again. Don't you think I feel bad enough about it? We're sorry to bother you, ma'am. We've got some questions we have to ask you. All right, come on in. You might as well sit down. Thank you. Thank you. This is Frank Smith, and my name's Frye. How are you doing, Miss Manson? Hello. You're the child's aunt, is that right? Yeah. Her mother's my sister. And where's her mother? I don't know. Been trying to get in touch with her. Left messages all over town, but I guess she ain't got any of them. The child stayed with you, does she? Yeah. Been here since she was six months old. Feel like she was my own. I've got three kids myself, all boys. And I'm going to have to get a job. I'm going to have to get a job. I'm going to have to get a job. I'm going to have to get a job. I'm going to have to get a job. I'm going to have to get a job. It's been hard, I think. Have to work. Have a very important family. It's always tough, too, with this ever so easy. Melissa takes it for the day. Just like always, she was here this morning. Yes ma'am. Gonna be a big day. She told the baby they were going up to the park to the zoo to see the animals. We all sat around Nate. My kids, baby and Joan, and the kids went to get dressed. Yeah. After she was dressed they left. Joan and Melissa, going to the zoo on the ride. Real big day, real big. About six they came back. That's this evening? Yeah, it's the clock. The baby, the baby didn't look real good. Kind of hot and flushed. Yeah. I asked Joan if she'd given her a lot of junk. She said no, nothing that had hurt her. That's what she said. Just came in the house and then she left. Said she had an appointment that she couldn't be late. Just dumped the baby inside the house and walked out. I see. I gave her a bath. Thought it might make her feel better. She was running a little fever. Warm bath is supposed to bring down her temperature. Oh, sorry. Didn't. Didn't do any good at all. I asked her if she was hungry and she said she was, so I gave her some dinner. Had no more than taken one bite and she had the first sip. Sitting right there at the table and she had it. I didn't know what to do. Never had nothing happen like that before. I didn't know what to give her. Did you call the doctor? Yeah. We don't have a telephone until I went down to the corner. There's a booth at the gas station. Yeah. Didn't want to leave the baby alone, but there wasn't any other way. Nothing else I could do. The doctor wasn't at home. I left work for him to come right over and then I came back. Then no sooner walked into the house and she had another fit. Scared me to death. Poor little thing. I could see she was in pain. Terrible pain. There wasn't anything I could do for her. I just couldn't wait anymore. I went back and called the emergency hospital. Asked them to send an ambulance. Told them it was important to send somebody right away. Couple minutes after that the men got here and took her away. Poor little thing. Yes ma'am. She looked at me like asking me to stop the pain. Begging me. Almost tore my heart right out of my chest to see her. So little. Almost killed me. Yes. She was dead when they got her there. Didn't even live long enough for them to try and save her. Not even that long. Yes ma'am. We know. Just a baby. Two years old and she's dead. Just a tiny little baby. It was so hard to see. A lot of people could die and it wouldn't make any difference. But not her. She was beautiful. Just beautiful. Like my daughter. Like my own. You sure there isn't something we can get for you, Miss Malton? No. Nothing. There isn't anything we can help now. Nothing at all. Ma'am, has there been any history of this type of attack in your family? You mean fits? Epilepsy. Anything of that nature? No. Never been anything like that. Well now did the child tell you that she felt sick? We didn't have no idea. There was something wrong until it was too late. Did she complain of stomach cramps, do you remember? No. She didn't. What did you have for dinner? Ground meat. Tater. The green beans. Couldn't have been that. Made her sick. We all ate the same thing. The kids and me. None of us had any trouble. Is your sister separated from her husband? Yeah. They hadn't been together for over a year. Been that long anyway, I suppose. He's supposed to contribute support, but he doesn't. Not a dime. I see. Did she provide support for the little girl? She was the baby's mother, but that's as far as it went. It came to count from Alyssa and it landed in my lap. Remember when she had Rosiola? Joe didn't even come over and see her. Just didn't care. Mailed a little doll for the baby. Guess that was supposed to make up for her mother not being there. Can you tell us where we can contact your sister? Sure. A place over on Hewitt Street. Got an apartment there. Do you have the address? Yeah. Won't do much good to go over there, though. Why's that? She probably ain't home. Chances are she's out someplace running around having a good time. I see. Don't even know that baby's dead. Hasn't got the slightest idea. I will go and see her. Hope you won't mind waiting for her to show up. You're going to have to. Probably wait a long time. Yes, ma'am. She don't care about the baby. Never did. Told me a couple of times. Just a rock around her neck. Talked about how hard it was for her to get a husband with a kid. All the time, how the baby was making it hard for her. All she ever thought about herself. Didn't want anything to interfere with that. Just herself. She won't care about the baby. She won't care at all. Probably won't even talk to you. I think she will. Why should she? No reason for it. Even see it. Yes, there is. What? We're trying to find out why the child died. Just got sick, that's all. There's nothing more to it, unless it just got sick. You seem pretty sure about it. Of course I am. Couldn't be anything else. You think there was anything else? You think there was something wrong? We don't know yet. Well then talk to Joan. Ask her. Anything wrong with Melissa that happened today. She ought to be able to tell you. Talk to her. Yes, ma'am. That's what we'll do. Hope it does you some good. It wouldn't surprise me a bit if she knows what happened. What's that? She's probably got an idea. I wouldn't want her to know I told you this. What do you mean? If there's something wrong with the way Melissa died, if there is... Yes, ma'am. It wouldn't surprise me if Joan killed her. Frank and I left the house and drove over to the apartment on Hewitt Street. The name on the mailbox read Joan Guymon. We rang the bell, but there was no answer. We talked to the landlady, Mrs. Enid Finden. She told us that the Guymon woman had left the place about 7.15 in the company of a man and she hadn't returned. We asked her what she could tell us about Mrs. Guymon. Kind of hard to say right off. She's funny, you know how I mean? No, ma'am. Well, there's a lot of people who don't like her, lots of them. I think she's kind of wild the way she runs around, partying up. You'll hear a lot of talk about her. You've got to kind of make up your own mind about it. Do you have any idea where we can find her? No, could be in half a dozen places. If she starts on her run, she's likely not to slow down for a couple of days. Do you know the man she's with? Sorry, I can't help you there. I've seen him before, but not many times. I don't think Joan goes out with him much. Something wrong? No. Something happened to Joan? No, ma'am. There must be some reason you're nosing around. Anything you want to tell me? It might be a little better if we talk to Miss Guymon. The way you want it. I can apply to something that don't concern me. Have you ever met Mrs. Guymon's little girl? You mean Melissa? Yes, ma'am. Sure. Two of them being here several times. Sunday, you know, Joan has a little girl. How they seem to get along. What? Miss Guymon and her daughter. How they get along. Well, you said it yourself, Melissa's her daughter. Yeah. What have you heard? Huh? Somebody's been talking about how Joan treats the kid. Well, maybe you'd better tell her. I don't want to get in no trouble. You understand that? Yeah. Well, I'd be down here watching the television, maybe doing some ironing, and I'd hear Joan yell at the baby. Wow. She used words the kid shouldn't hear, not that young. Yes, ma'am. Of course, not that those kind of words are ever good for a youngster, but sure, not for one only two years old. Yeah. Anyway, she'd yell for a while, then it'd be quiet. Then she'd hit the kid a couple times, things calmed down. Now, do you know if Mrs. Guymon ever hit her daughter? Well, sure, I saw it with my own eyes. We had words about it. Well, Joan told me to mind my own business. I had to keep my nose where it belonged. She told me how Melissa was her kid, and if she thought a slap would do some good, she was going to give it. She did. Only a couple times they weren't slaps. Really? Like this, with a closed fist. Right along here, right above the ear. A couple times in the face. I saw the kid with a black eye myself, sure. Does Mr. Guymon see his wife? I know. He said a couple times that he doesn't. I don't think she even knows where he is. Kind of sad, you know. What happened? That's how all the trouble started. Mr. Guymon. Both of them used to live here when they got married. First off, it seemed pretty happy. Didn't have no idea there was anything wrong. Then when the baby was born, the trouble started. Wasn't long before the whole building knew about it. Of course, there was a couple of people who had an idea before. What's that? About her. Running around, down to the bars, drinking, talking with other men. I'm not a prude. Never been anybody to say that about me. Nobody. But I just don't believe in married women doing it. Not them. That's what caused the trouble, isn't it? You just put it down to that. Oh, my, they had some big arguments. Big ones. Hear them all over the building. All over the block, I guess, if he was listening. Well, it wasn't long after that he walked out on her. Left her flat with the baby. Pat right up and moved out. Even took his photograph records. Everything. Don't think she's seen him since. Well, are they divorced, you know? I don't know about that. A couple times she's talked about getting one. I don't think she's ever gone through with it. I know she's planning on it. How's that? If she wants to get married again. Told me that a hundred times, how she wants to find a man and settle down. Just about all she talks about. The big problem is Melissa. Mm-hmm. Well, I know she's had the chance. I know that for sure. Mm-hmm. A couple of them have even talked to me about it. About how they want to marry Joan. Build a home for her. All comes back to the same thing. What's that? The kid. None of the men want a ready-made family. They're all willing to have one of their own, but... It ain't easy for a woman with a two-year-old child. Not easy at all. Mm-hmm. I know she thought a couple times about leaving the kid with her sister. Some kind of problem there, too. I think they were always fighting about it. Do you know what the arguments were about? Sure. Joan's sister didn't think she was doing enough to support the kid. You know, figured she ought to have more money. Any of these quarrels ever get violent? I've heard them upstairs, yelling and screaming at each other. Almost as bad as Joan and her husband. Sister saying that either she had to hand over more money or else take Melissa out of the house. Joan saying that she didn't care what happened to the kid. Yelling all over the place. Terrible way they carried on. Mm-hmm. Be honest about it. I don't think either one of them really wanted the little girl. Neither one of them. Is that right? Both been just as happy if she'd never been born. Poor little kid. Wonder they didn't try to put her in another home, you know. Find some people who wanted her. Giving her a chance to grow up being loved. That's right. At least they could have done. Given the little kid a chance. Oh, I don't know. Maybe someday Joan will wake up, realize what she's doing. Mm-hmm. Maybe she will. Let's hope it's not too late. In the company of the manager, Frank and I checked Joan Gaiman's room. There was no indication that she wasn't going to return. We asked Miss Finden to notify us as soon as she heard from the Gaiman woman. We returned to the office and checked with the crime lab. They'd finished going over the child's clothing and they hadn't found anything out of order. We put in a call to the coroner's office and we talked to Chief Deputy Coroner Vic Wallage. He told us that the autopsy would be held at 10 a.m. the following morning and that we should have the results by 11. He went on to say that in his examination of Melissa Gaiman, he'd found several bruises on her neck and back. However, he was unable to tell us if the blows might have been strong enough to cause her death. 1216 a.m. we ran the names Joan Gaiman and her sister through RNI. There was no record on the sister, but we found that the Gaiman woman had been arrested several times in the last year on charges of 4127 a.m. The rest of the night was spent in checking out the places she was known to have frequenting. An attempt was made to find her husband without result. The next day, Frank and I met in the squad room early to put through a call to the coroner's office. Yeah. What about the bruises? I see. How long's that going to take? Right. We won't keep in touch again. Okay. Bye. How about it? They finished. What's the cause of death? I'm still not sure. What do you mean? They think she might have been poisoned. The autopsy had failed to show the cause of death of Melissa Gaiman. Further tests were to be conducted. In the meantime, the search for her mother continued. A check with a landlady showed the victim's mother hadn't returned to her home during the night. We contacted her sister, but she told us she hadn't heard from Joan Gaiman. The afternoon papers carried a story on the little girl's death. Frank and I checked with Sergeant J. Allen again, but he hadn't come up with anything new. 3.20 p.m. You want to go out and see the sister? I don't think it's going to do much good. She said she'd call if she heard anything. Yeah. I got it. You have an old sped? Yeah, that's right. Hmm? Yeah, we have. Well, where are you? All right, I'll stay right there. That's right. Huh? As soon as we can. Joan Gaiman. Where is she? Bar down on East Fifth. Does she know about the little girl? Yeah, wants to see us right away. Well, it makes us even. She's got more of a reason. Hmm? Said she killed her daughter. Frank and I left the city hall and drove over to the bar. When we walked into the place, it appeared to be deserted. The bartender told us there was a woman answering the description we gave him in one of the rear boots. Joan Gaiman was in her late 20s, but she looked at least 40. She'd been drinking heavily and she'd been crying. Oh, yeah? Is that who you're looking for? You're Miss Gaiman? That's right. Who are you? Police officer. This is Frank Smith. My name is Friday. Yeah. I knew you'd be here. I knew it good. Why don't you sit right down and make yourself comfortable? What's wrong with how Zye talked to you? He talked to me. Yeah. Well, then you know why I asked you to come down here? Yes, ma'am. You want to tell us about it? No. How's that? You asked me if I wanted to talk about it. Well, I don't. I don't even want to think about it. I wish it never happened. You're right. You probably think it's funny I'm not crying, don't you? Don't you? You think there's something wrong with me? Maybe it's death and I'm not crying? Well, do you want to know why? You want to know? Why don't you tell us, lady? Because there ain't no tears left. Not a single one of them all cried out. That's why. You better put that down. I'm not crying. I'm not crying. You better put that down. You've had enough of that. I think I'll have a lot more. A lot more. You said you killed your little girl, is that right? That's right. Well, tell us about it, will you? No reason not to. No reason for anything anymore. All right, go ahead. I killed her. I killed her. It's like I put a gun up to her head. I killed her. Is this the same? Go ahead. Poor little kid. She didn't want much. Hardly anything. One of those dolls with the hair you can wave. That's all. The doll with curly hair and her mother. She got the doll. I gave it to her yesterday when we came back from the zoo. It's just seeing how happy she was. She was happy. Another thing I wouldn't give her. No mother. Poor little kid. She doesn't have no mother. Just me, that's all it means. Yeah. That's how I did it. What's that? Killed her. If I'd been her mother and kept her with me, it never would have happened. She'd be all right now. I neglect. That's what I did. Neglect. And I gave it to her. Never paid no attention to her. All the time. Too busy with what I was doing. I didn't pay any attention to her. I didn't pay any attention at all. All right. Come on, lady. Where are we going? Downtown. What for? I don't think we'll be able to talk better there. Oh, I don't want to go anyplace. I'm going to stay right here. My baby is dead. Poor little kid doesn't have no mother. Why don't you just go away and leave me alone? You know we can't do that. Why not? There are a lot of somethings that you got to harm people. Is that what you're doing? Right. Yeah. Now, wait a minute. You don't need to be alone. You got no right to do this to me. Bartender! Come on back here and help! These lousy cops are giving me trouble. Help me! Come on, lady. You're only making it harder on yourself. Leave me alone. Get away from me. Come on. Don't cause me more trouble. If you were a gentleman, you wouldn't do this to me. If you were a lady, we wouldn't have to. We took the woman back to the city hall. After several cups of hot coffee, she straightened out enough to give us a story. She went over each step of the previous day, naming all the places she and her daughter had gone and all of the foods they'd eaten. There was no apparent cause for the child's death. In talking to her, we found that the child was wearing different clothing when she was brought to the hospital. Frank and I drove out to Mrs. Guyman's sister's home and picked up the dress and the coat the little girl had worn. It was turned over to the crime lab. 2.15 p.m. You and Elfrady. Yeah. I don't know. We'll have to check it. Right. Yeah. Soon as we know. Right. Right. Paint her over at the lab. Yeah. Just finished going over the little girl's dress. Find anything? A couple of stains. Yeah. Traces of poison. Along with the crew from the crime lab, Frank, Mrs. Guyman, and I went back to her apartment where a thorough search was started. From the analysis of the stains found on the child's dress, Sergeant J. Allen said the death might have been caused by minute quantities of poison and another fluid. While he and his crew went over to the apartment, Frank and I talked to Mrs. Guyman. There couldn't be anything here. Was the child alone at all yesterday? No, I don't think so. We went to the zoo and came back here. We gave her the doll and we played with that for a while. Mm-hmm. Did you leave the apartment at all? Yeah. I'm down at the corner to make a phone call. I only got a couple of minutes. Your daughter was here alone then. Yes, but she couldn't have gotten into anything. I was only gone a little while. I was still playing with the doll when I got back. Mrs. Guyman, our crime lab seems to think she might have been poisoned by some sort of polish. What do you mean? Looks like a metal polish at some time. I don't have any of that in the house. You sure? Certainly. But I know my place. They have to tear everything up like this. It'll all be straightened out. I hope so. It's never going to be an M to it. Joe? Yeah, Jack. See you in a minute. What do you got? I think this is where I found out the kitchen under the sink. Metal polish? Yeah. Isn't one of the standard brands. Certainly isn't one of the off brands either, is it? I've never seen it before. Well. The bottle's almost empty. Cap was off when we found it. Any chance it might have spilled out? No, it doesn't look like it. Not on the floor around the bottle. If you want to come out in the kitchen, we'll check up the prints. They got the kit out there. All right. Can you tell for sure, Jay? No, we can get an idea, though. There, Joe. It's coming through. You see there? Yeah. What do you think? After all the child's prints, to be sure, it looks like it, though. The fingers are pretty small. There, you can see yourself. Pretty tiny. I don't think it's that bad. Thanks, Jay. What'd they find? You know how it happened? We think so, yeah. We found an empty bottle of metal polish in the kitchen. Looks like your daughter drank some of it. She couldn't have. I was with her all the time. I couldn't have gotten to it. You said you left her alone. Not that long. She didn't have time. I was only gone a couple of minutes. That's all. Just a couple of minutes. That was long enough. It's not true. You're just making it up, trying to make it all my fault. No, ma'am. Yes, you are. You're trying to make out I did kill her. You're saying it's my fault. Well, it isn't. Well, then you tell us. Whose fault is it? The story you've just heard is true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On August 18th, an inquest was held in the coroner's office in and for the county of Los Angeles, state of California. After examining all the evidence, a coroner's jury decided that the death of Melissa June Guymon was due to accidental poisoning. You have just heard Dragnet. The authentic story of your police force in action and starring Jack Webb, a presentation of the United States Armed Forces Radio Service.
