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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.
This Tuesday, March 8th, it was cold in Los Angeles, we were working the night watch out
of homicide.
My partner is Ben Romero, the boss is Captain Steed, my name is Friday.
We were on the way out from the office and it was 6.45 p.m. when we got to Greenwich
Street.
Number 318.
Yes, gentlemen?
Police officer, would you like to see Dr. Small, please?
I'm Reverend Small, won't you come in?
Thank you.
Let me take your hats, officers, I've been waiting for you.
Thanks.
My name's Friday, this is my partner Sergeant Romero.
How do you do?
I'm glad to know you.
How do you do?
Hope we didn't interrupt your dinner.
Oh no, no, the organist, Brother Reaver and I, we're just running over a few hymns for
the service tonight.
Would you come this way, please, into the parlor?
As I mentioned on the telephone, I'm not much of a detective, but I think something should
be done about this matter as soon as possible.
Well, we'd like to get a few more particulars first, Reverend.
How'd you first find out about these threatening letters?
Sister Dorothy Wilson, I think I told you about her, she came here to the rectory and
showed them to me.
She told me she's been getting them for the last four days and phone calls too.
How long have you known this Dorothy Wilson?
Is she one of your regular parishioners?
Well, she first joined my congregation about a month ago.
She's been in regular attendance at our services ever since.
Is that the church next door, joining the rectory here?
Yes, that's right, Sergeant.
Second Reformed Church at the Holy Book.
I founded it here about three years ago and I've been pastor ever since.
Have you ever had this trouble before?
I mean, threats against the people who join your church?
No, never, never any trouble at all.
I wonder if you have those notes that Miss Wilson's been receiving, Reverend?
Yes, right here in my desk.
Let me see, yes, yes, here are the five Sister Wilson got and here are the two that I received.
I wonder if I could look at them.
Yes, surely, here you are.
Thank you.
Oh, would you excuse me for a moment?
It's about time for Brother Reber to get over to the church.
I'd better tell him.
Certainly, Reverend.
Didn't mean to hold you up.
No, not at all.
I'll be back in just a moment.
All right, sir.
What do they look like, Joe?
Let's see.
Postmarks here are March 4th, 5th, 7th, 8th.
Come from different places around town according to the postmark.
There's Long Beach, a couple from Azusa, Glendale here.
No return address on any of them.
This notebook paper looks like to me this one, doesn't it to you?
Yeah.
And there's this other one here, looks like some kind of wrapping paper.
The writing's not too bad.
Let's see, according to the postmark, this is the first one they got, I guess.
Let me see.
Dorothy Wilson, you are a sinner and you have led a sinful life, yet you have the nerve to
come into our church and make believe you're a Christian.
Spelling sure is bad.
I have been coming to our church for a long time and it is an outrage to have you praying
in our temple.
If you don't get out and stay out, I'm going to make sure you're taken care of for good.
Look outside.
Sister in the Lord.
Must be some kind of a fanatic.
We'd better run at least through the primeland.
Yeah.
This one maybe, it's type written.
I hear you read it, it's dated March 6th.
Yeah.
Take this as a warning.
Bring your sinful body to our church again and your blood will run in the aisles.
A life can be taken when God demands it.
It could be yours.
Sorry for the interruption, officers.
There's a few things I had to remind Brother Reber of.
Have you seen all the letters?
Well, we're just checking them over, Reverend.
That's certainly a terrible thing for our church.
I hope we can keep the matter as quiet as possible.
Oh, yes, sir.
I noticed the two different signatures on these notes.
Now, half of them are signed a Sister in the Lord.
Yes.
And the other half are signed Brother D.R. Griswold.
Yes, that's right.
The first letter I got was from this Brother Griswold.
His are the type written ones.
You know anyone in your congregation with that name, Reverend?
D.R. Griswold?
No, I checked over my list of regular parishioners twice.
If there is such a man, I don't know of him.
Well, we can run that name through R.N.I. anyway, huh, Ben?
Do you have any suspicions at all, Reverend?
What do you mean, Sergeant?
I mean, can you think of anybody in your congregation who might possibly resent this Miss Wilson's
joining your church, maybe?
Well, no, I haven't had an opportunity to think it over in that light, but I can't imagine
anybody in our group writing letters like this.
What's her background, Reverend?
You know much about her?
No, she's a quiet girl.
She's very religious, works as a stenographer in an office downtown, helps support her mother.
Will she be at church tonight?
Yes, she's here already helping to set up the chairs for the service.
Why would you like to talk to her?
Yes, sir, if we could.
All right, let's go over to the church.
We're still half an hour before services begin.
All right, fine.
I'll have to take these letters along with us, Reverend.
We want our handwriting man to check them over.
Yes, by all means.
That, uh, manola envelope on the desk, you can put them in there if you like.
Thank you.
This one here?
Yes.
Okay.
This way, officers.
How many members do you have in your church, Reverend Small?
162 regulars.
Another hundred or so on the fringe.
They attend only occasionally.
You mentioned that this Miss Wilson's had threatening phone calls, too.
Yes, that's what she told me this afternoon.
Man's voice or a woman's?
Sister Wilson said both.
The phone calls usually follow each letter, and they identify themselves the same way,
Brother Griswold and the Sister and the Lord.
Have you received any calls from them?
No, I've been half expecting them, but I haven't had any yet.
Here, shall we go in?
Please.
Here we are.
Our seating arrangement's still temporary.
We hope to have pews installed next year.
Oh, uh-huh.
Nice church.
Yes.
Thank you.
Oh, there's Sister Wilson.
She is helping set up the chairs.
If you'd like to wait in the choir's dressing room, I'll bring her in there to you.
All right.
Thank you, Reverend.
Let's go, man.
This one, Joe?
Yeah, this is it.
Hmm.
I ought to open a few windows in here.
It's musty.
Yeah.
What time do you say the services start?
7.30.
It's, uh, five minutes past seven now.
Officers?
Yes, sir.
Officers, this is Sister Dorothy Wilson.
Sister Wilson, Sergeant Friday.
How do you do, ma'am?
Hello.
And Sergeant Ramirez.
That's Romero.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Sergeant Romero, Sister Wilson.
Hello.
Glad to know you.
I guess you want to speak with Sister Wilson alone, do you?
Well, we'd like to have you stay, if you would, Reverend.
I wonder if there's some place where we can sit down.
Yes, certainly.
Right over here in the ante room.
Fine.
Yeah, let's be fine.
Now, Sister Wilson, there's no need to be afraid.
These officers are here to help you and to protect you.
See that nothing happens.
Yes, Brother Small.
Hold fast in faith in the Lord, and you shall not fear.
Yes, I will.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
Hold fast in faith in the Lord, and you shall not fear.
Yes, I will.
You want me to tell you all about it, Sergeant?
How it started?
No, if you please.
Say, is it all right to smoke in here?
Yes, of course.
Go ahead.
Do you want care for a second?
No, thank you.
Nothing, sir.
Ben.
I'm not writing anything.
OK, I'll leave it back there if you want to.
Now, we've already looked over the letters that you received.
The reverend here told us that you got the first one last Friday.
He sent us a letter.
Yes, that's right.
I've gotten one each day since then.
Phone calls, too.
Did you recognize the voices making the calls?
No, I didn't know them at all.
The woman's voice was very rough.
It sounded like she might be old.
She said some terrible things about me and Brother Small.
She called both of us terrible names.
Awful.
The same with a man who calls?
Yes, sometimes he's even worse.
None of the things they say are true, Sergeant.
Not one word.
Oh, I'd like you to think carefully before you answer this, Miss Wilson.
Is there anyone at all that you know in your neighborhood,
or here at church, or at your work who might be doing this?
Maybe somebody that you knew a few years ago, some acquaintance?
Ever since it's happened, I've been trying to think of someone.
I don't think I've ever met anybody who'd do this kind of thing.
Well, how about a former boyfriend or a girlfriend who might be jealous of you for some reason?
No.
I did have quite a few boyfriends, just casual dates, nothing serious.
They were always taking me out, dancing and out to parties.
We went everywhere, but I was never interested in any of them.
Were any of them upset when you stopped going out with them?
A few of them were angry when I wouldn't marry them,
but I don't think any of them would write those kind of letters.
Do you think the whole thing might be some kind of a joke, someone's playing?
It's a pretty grim joke to go this far.
Do you live by yourself, Miss Wilson?
No, with my mother, but I don't want her to know anything about this.
Well, I think it'd be wiser if you told her.
No, no, she mustn't know.
Mother's been ill lately, and if she found out, it might upset her an awful lot.
She's not well at all.
Help yourself to some of the water, gentlemen.
Okay, really?
Miss Wilson, would you like a drink?
Yes, please, I would.
All right.
Thank you.
There you are.
Anybody else?
Reverend?
Yes, please.
Ben?
Nothing.
Okay.
Thank you.
Oh, myself.
How about some of the church members, Miss Wilson?
Have any of them been at all unfriendly to you since you started coming here?
No, I don't think so.
A few are pretty hard to get to know.
They're shy, I guess.
But none of them have been uncharitable.
Then you don't think the threats are coming from anyone in the church?
Well, if they are, I don't know who the person is,
the way they say all those rotten things about me.
They call me a sinner and a bad woman.
Well, I guess I'm a sinner like all of us are, but I'm not a bad woman.
I'm going to church because I want to be born again of the light.
I've never killed anyone and I've never been a bad woman.
You believe me, don't you, Reverend?
Yes, of course I do.
Now, don't get yourself all upset, Sister Wilson.
You think that's why they want to murder me because I'm a sinner?
You think that's why?
Please, Sister Wilson, try and get your mind off of it.
If they want to kill me because I'm a sinner,
then why don't they want to kill all the sinners?
They're going to have a lot of homicides if they try.
Ten p.m. Together with Sergeant Srains and Bechtel,
we tailed Dorothy Wilson to her home.
She parked her car at the rear and went inside.
A stakeout was placed on her house.
The next morning we took the threatening letters,
which the Wilson girl had received,
and asked Don Meyer in handwriting to check them over.
During the next five days,
we checked thoroughly into the background of Dorothy Wilson.
We talked to her relatives, her employers,
all her friends, past and present.
We had no good reason to suspect any of them.
We checked out the people at the church, and they were clear.
Both Reverend Small and the Wilson girl continued to receive more threatening letters.
Some of the language and the accusations were pretty foul.
Still, no outward attempt were made on the life of the Wilson girl.
A week after we started on the case, we tailed up our findings.
They seemed to make sense.
We talked it over with Reigns in the squad room.
Don Meyer's checking those letters and a sample of the Wilson girl's handwriting, isn't he?
What's he got to say?
The letters written in longhand are signed to Sister and the Lord,
and the typewritten letters are signed Brother D.R. Griswold.
Mm-hmm, yeah, I know that.
Don says all the letters were written by the same person.
How's he figure?
Well, similarities in phrasing, same mistakes in spelling,
typewritten and longhand both.
Signatures on the Griswold letters match the handwriting in the other letters.
They were only dealing with one suspect.
And Don Meyer seems pretty sure of it, yeah.
Well, how does the Wilson girl's handwriting check out?
He's working on that.
Where does that leave us?
You've been on stakeouts at the Wilson girl's home a few nights.
Haven't you noticed anything peculiar about the setup?
How do you mean?
Something that didn't fit, something that didn't quite jive?
No, I don't think so.
Well, just that business about her car.
I thought that was a little out of line.
Yeah, it struck us the same way.
A girl always seemed frightened enough about the situation when she's around us,
but when she thinks she's alone, it looks to me like she takes it a little differently.
Yeah.
Every night when she drives home, she parks her car in a dark garage.
It must be at least 50, 75 yards from her house.
Yeah.
I've never seen her look particularly nervous
and taking that long walk through a front door.
Sure, the normal reaction for a frightened woman would be to park the car right in front of the house
and then hurry inside.
She hasn't done that once.
How about all those friends of hers?
You guys checked out anything there?
Well, we've been staked out at her house, at the church, and at work.
You know that.
There's not a thing.
Checked with some of her ex-boyfriends, too.
Nothing there?
Well, the Wilson girl told us that some of the boys had proposed to her.
We couldn't find one who'd admit it.
They all said she was a nice girl, but they didn't propose marriage.
Those threatening phone calls are another thing.
Both the pastor of the church and Dorothy Wilson got letters,
but only the girl received a phone call.
Yeah.
Well, logically, if the reverend got the letters the same time as the girl,
he should have been getting phone calls, too.
He hasn't received the one.
Well, it could be accidental.
Whoever wants to kill the girl might figure the reverend would recognize his voice.
Well, it's possible, but you remember that story that the Wilson girl gave us about her mother.
Remember that?
She didn't want her to know about the letters because her mother was sick.
Uh-huh.
Well, we checked with her mother's doctor, and Mrs. Wilson hasn't been sick in five years.
Yeah, how about that?
What do you figure?
I think the girl's a fake.
Everything we knew about the case of Dorothy Wilson,
everything we'd learned through questioning and observation,
seemed to point to one definite conclusion.
Dorothy Wilson, for one reason or another, was writing the threatening letters to herself.
As for the warnings that she got over the telephone, we only had her word for it.
We took our findings to Captain Steed and laid out the case for him.
He directed us to stay on it for a few more days until we could find enough evidence and testimony to prove out our theory.
The following day, Dorothy Wilson received a letter more threatening than any of the previous ones.
Reverend Small also received a copy of the same letter.
Again, Don Meyer's opinion was that they were written by the same person.
Hi.
Reigns?
What's it doing?
I don't know.
Boy's got any new theories?
What do you mean?
On the Dorothy Wilson case.
Do we need one?
I don't think your old one's going to hold up.
Why? What's the matter?
She's at Georgia Street.
Somebody tried to kill her.
You are listening to Dragnet,
authentic stories of your police force in action.
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As soon as we got the report that Dorothy Wilson had been attacked by an unknown assailant,
we drove to Georgia Street Receiving Hospital where she was being treated.
Anderson and Bechtel from homicide were standing by.
We talked to the doctor who told us that the victim had no serious injuries.
She had two slight bruises on her upper arms and a slight bruise on her forehead.
She complained of a headache.
While the doctor made out his report, we questioned the Wilson girl.
She told us that she'd gone to the church of the Holy Book at 6 o'clock that night after work.
She told us that she wanted to pray before the start of the regular service at 8.15 p.m.
We asked her exactly when and where the attack occurred.
At about 6.30, I felt a little tired.
I told the officers on duty at the church I thought I'd get a little rest before services started,
and then I went into the ladies dressing room and laid down.
That's where it happened. It was terrible.
Did you see the person who tried to hurt you?
No. I was lying down with my eyes closed and he must have come up from behind.
He put his hands around my throat and started to press tight.
It was awful, just awful.
What happened then, Miss Wilson?
Well, I fought as hard as I could.
I kicked and scratched him and I guess I hurt him because he let go of my throat for a minute.
After that, he pulled me down on the floor. I remembered that.
Then he put his hands around this part of my head like this.
The other officers told us that one of the choir members, Mr. Sherman, found you unconscious in the choir room.
Yes. Whoever it was who wanted to kill me, they put a gag in my mouth and blindfolded me,
and then tied my wrists together with tape. That's how Mr. Sherman found me.
How long do you figure you were unconscious then?
I don't know. It was about 6.35 when I laid down in the dressing room.
Mr. Sherman said he found me there at 20 minutes past seven.
And then you were out about 45 minutes, is that it?
I suppose so. I don't remember anything.
What makes you think the person who attacked you wanted to kill you, Miss Wilson?
That's what they said in the letters, isn't it? They want to kill me for coming to church?
Now your purse and everything that was in it was scattered all over the dressing room floor, is that correct?
Yes, it was. My money and everything scattered all over. I guess they wanted to rob me too.
Fifty-two dollars in cash. Is that what you had with you?
That's right. A fifty dollar bill and some change. I don't know why they didn't take it. Maybe something frightened them off.
That's possible.
The officers found some other articles scattered around the dressing room.
A roll of tape, a metal box that the tape came in, and a half a dozen razor blades.
Did you notice any of these in the dressing room before you were attacked?
No, none of them. I never saw them before.
Those razor blades, officer, what do you think they wanted to do with them?
There's no use thinking about that now. It's all over.
I knew I'd be protected. I felt the spirit. I knew the Holy Light would protect me.
Yes, ma'am.
Will you find whoever did it, officer?
Well, this is just a hunch, Miss Wilson.
Yes?
I think we already have.
Before we left Georgia Street, we talked to the doctor in charge and got a release for the patient.
Dorothy Wilson agreed to drive back with us to the office to make out a crime report.
On the way, she seemed to lose most of her nervousness. She was relaxed and she talked quite a bit.
Religion's a great comfort to me, Sergeant. I think it's a great comfort to anybody, don't you?
Yeah, I do.
Maybe I'm different from most girls, but I get an awful lot out of my church.
It's like Brother Smalls says, you have to be born again of the Holy Light if you really want to live.
Don't you think so?
That's right.
I don't know what I'd do if it wasn't for my religion.
No, I used to have a lot of boyfriends. Of course I don't care for any of them anymore,
but when I was younger they were always taking me out all the time.
Is that so?
Yes, I had a good time when I was younger, going out to dinner, dancing, parties.
The fellows were taking me out all the time. Of course that was when I was younger.
You're not much over 25 now, are you, Miss Wilson?
I'll be 27 in August. That's pretty old for an unmarried girl, but I'm not worried.
Get interested in more important things when you get older, isn't that right?
Yes, that's right.
I remember when I was in junior college, how boy crazy I was.
I remember that junior prom I went to. It seems such a long time ago.
Yes.
I had the most beautiful white dress sergeant with sequins.
The skirt was all white and that gathered in here at the waist and it flared out real full.
I went to the dance with one of the big football players.
He looked so nice in his blue suit. His name was Stanley.
I knew him for a long time. He's one of the fellows who asked me to marry him.
I guess I was too particular. I just couldn't see any of them.
Would you mind if I laid out a few facts for you, Miss Wilson?
Not at all, Sergeant. Go ahead, please.
I'm not trying to embarrass you in any way, but since we've been on this case,
we've checked just about all the friends that you've had in the past few years,
and that includes your boyfriends, of course.
Oh.
None of the fellows that you've mentioned say they've ever proposed marriage to you.
Said they've been out with you once or twice, but that's all.
Oh, well, you probably didn't talk to the right fellows. You probably got the names mixed.
No, ma'am, we didn't. We talked to the right people.
Well, I can't understand that.
Neither can we, Miss Wilson.
Well, what difference does it make anyway? I wasn't interested in them.
I wouldn't have married them anyway.
Going out and dancing and parties, that's all they were interested in.
What reason did you have for lying to us?
Harking in a car and necking with girls, trying to take advantage of them.
That's all those fellows wanted.
Some of the silly girls they married.
Well, I don't...
You discover a lot more important things when you get older, Sergeant.
No, I don't think that's the point. Why did you lie to us about it?
I don't know, really. Maybe I didn't have a reason.
I just didn't remember right, I guess.
Well, you sure you remember right about what happened tonight.
What do you mean, it just happened?
Of course I'm sure about it. Someone tried to kill me.
Might as well park on Spring Street, Van. It's pretty clear this time of night.
Yeah, okay.
Sergeant, I wish you'd tell me what you're getting at. What are you thinking?
Well, there's still a few things that we're not too sure of, Miss Wilson.
We'd like to clear them up.
What aren't you too sure of? I told you everything I knew.
I was lying down in the dressing room and somebody tried to kill me. I told you all about it.
Well, you told us you were unconscious about 45 minutes, didn't you?
Well, yeah, 40 or 45.
Well, we talked to the doctor at Georgia Street and the way you described the attack,
it would have been just about impossible for anybody to make you unconscious that long
by pressing his hands against your head like this.
Oh, but he hit me on the head, too. You can see the bruise here.
Well, yes, ma'am, I know, but that's very slight. The doctor says that that couldn't have done it either.
Just a minute, I'll get the door here.
Good evening, Miss Wilson.
Thank you.
What else aren't you sure of?
Well, I don't know. I don't know what they would have done.
All I know is they wanted to kill me. They said so in those letters.
We're not too sure of those letters either, Miss Wilson.
What? What aren't you sure of?
Where they're coming from and who's sending them.
We do know they were all written with the same person.
How do you know that? They're signed by two different people.
Our handwriting man checked them over. He says you're written with the same person.
You might as well have it straight, Miss Wilson.
We're going to talk. Can't we do it inside someplace? Please, I'm tired.
Oh, I'm sorry. All right.
Joe. Yeah?
I'll see if Lady Fingerprint is finished with that stuff.
Yeah, bring it along if they are. We'll be in the interrogation room.
Yeah, all right. This way, Miss Wilson.
A man I know used to be on the police force. Nice fellow.
We used to go out all the time together.
Was it so? What's his name?
Well, that's funny. I don't remember. He's an awfully nice fellow, though.
He was a good guy. He was a good guy.
He was a good guy. He was a good guy.
He was a good guy. He was a good guy.
Well, that's funny. I don't remember. He's an awfully nice fellow, though.
He used to go dancing every week.
Here we are.
Go right ahead.
I started questioning Dorothy Wilson, but she wanted to talk about everything except what concerned the case.
Dean Birdman and Layton Fingerprints had already checked each article that was found at the supposed scene of the crime.
The Wilson girls' prints were all over them.
Did you write those writing letters to yourself, Miss Wilson?
I don't understand. Why do you ask me something like that?
Did you write the letters to yourself?
You know that's not a fair question, Sergeant.
I don't know what you consider fair, but we'd like to know, did you write the letters?
Do you know what it is to pray, Sergeant? I mean, really pray?
What's that got to do with it?
I've been praying all my life. I've been praying hard.
Ever since I was a little girl.
We'd like to have your answer to our question, Miss Wilson.
I think you'll understand. This is the answer, Sergeant.
I can feel the Holy Spirit in my heart. I know you understand.
Yes, ma'am.
I've been praying for an awfully long time, Sergeant.
When I was a little girl, six years old, I was praying.
Night and day I said my prayers, but there never seemed to be any answer.
I never could understand it because I only prayed for one thing.
I didn't think it was too much to ask.
What was that?
I wanted people to know me, Sergeant.
Hmm?
I wanted people to know me and like me, that's all.
But it never seemed to happen, even when I was a little girl.
I don't think I quite follow you, Miss.
You've got to understand me. Nobody else does.
When I was a little girl, six, nobody ever seemed to care if I was around or not.
I always tried to make friends, tried to make people like me.
I tried very hard, but nobody seemed to care.
Nobody even noticed me. Nobody ever noticed me.
You mean that's why you wrote those threatening letters to yourself, so that you'd be noticed?
I wanted somebody to care about me, that's all.
I wanted them to know who I was. Dorothy Wilson.
I wanted to walk down the street and have people nod and have them say,
That's Dorothy Wilson. There goes Dorothy Wilson.
Just for somebody to care, that's all, Sergeant. Just for somebody to care.
Well, then the whole thing's purely your imagination.
You wrote the letters to yourself and you pretended somebody attacked you.
And all the rest.
God told me to do it, Sergeant.
He told me to make myself noticed.
To stand up and make people know me.
I'm sorry for it now, but it didn't hurt anyone, did it?
Well, ma'am, you had an awful lot of people working for nothing.
I'm sorry. It was so nice while it lasted.
People looking after me, caring about where I went,
what happened to me.
It's the first time anybody ever really noticed me.
It was that important to you?
People knew who I was. Dorothy Wilson.
They all noticed me.
I feel better now that it's over.
Oh, there's one thing I've got to tell you, Sergeant.
Yes, ma'am?
Remember driving here in the car I told you about that junior prom I went to?
That time I had a beautiful white net dress with a full skirt,
the beautiful new white dress.
Yes, ma'am, I remember. What about it?
Well, it was really pink, burgundy, an old dress.
I knew you'd find out. That's why I had to tell you.
Yeah.
I didn't want you to think I was a liar.
The story you've just heard was true.
Only the names were changed to protect the innocent.
In a moment, the results of the trial.
Now, here is our star, Jack Webb.
Thank you.
Dragnet's mail this week has included cards from some of you listeners
saying that your dealer is out of Fatima's.
Thank you. We've done something about that.
Now, if any more of you find a dealer fresh out of Fatima's,
send me his name and address and we'll do something about that too.
Write me, Jack Webb, post office box 951 Hollywood.
And Mr. Dealer, don't wait a day.
Step up your orders for Fatima.
Get in on this ever increasing demand for the quality long cigarette.
By our own admission, Dorothy Wilsey was guilty of filing a false crime report
and misdemeanor.
She was released into the custody of her mother.
You have just heard Dragnet, a series of authentic cases transcribed from official files.
Technical advice comes from the Office of Chief of Police, W.H. Parker.
This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.