The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Fatima cigarettes. Best of all long cigarettes brings you dragnet. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned to narcotics detail. A band of dope peddlers launches a full scale operation in your city. Their merchandise, marijuana, their victims, high school students. Your job. Get them. You'll be amazed when you compare Fatima with other long cigarettes. You'll find they now cost the same. But in Fatima the difference is quality. You see Fatima is the quality king size cigarette. Because it contains the finest Turkish and domestic tobaccos superbly blended. And Fatima is extra mild. With a much different, much better flavor and aroma than any other long cigarette. So compare Fatima yourself. Fatimas now cost the same as other long cigarettes. But your first puff will tell you. Ah, that's different. Yes in Fatima the difference is quality. Ask your dealer for Fatima. For quality king size cigarette. Best of all long cigarettes. Start enjoying Fatima tomorrow. 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 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. Was Thursday April 11th. Was warm in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out on narcotics detail. My partner's Ben Romero. The boss is Captain Kearney. My name's Friday. I was on the way back from R&I and it was 10.25 a.m. when I got to Central Station. Narcotics detail. Joe? Hi. What'd you find out? Talked to the coroner. He finished posting the body. Yeah. Caused the death of multiple fractures of the skull. Internal injury. Boy was 17 years old. You checked the car? Yeah, the kid must have been doing at least 70 when he hit that street light. It's a real mess. The car was really wound around that pole. We're gonna have to dig up a fast answer somewhere. A lot of you ragged. Well, there's only one way to burn it out. Find the big man and throw the book at him. Make him an example. We'll never forget, huh? You checked the juvenile bureau? Yeah, the evidence has been booked with the property clerk. How about the boy's parents? Mrs. Moore wasn't feeling too well. He drove her home. Father's still down in the hall. Inspector Walker's office. Can we talk to him now? Yeah, he should be free by now. Let me check the book. Already dead. There's no calls. Oh, okay. Let's go. You know, there's only one thing fortunate about this whole thing. What do you mean? Well, the kid being alone when he cracked up would have been a slaughter if he had a car full of his friends with him. It's still pretty grim. How's the boy's father taking it? Usual. Pretty rough. He should be able to help some. Yeah. Mr. Morrill? Yes, Sergeant. The inspector asked me to wait here for you. Yes, sir. This is my partner, Sergeant Friday. Mr. Morrill, Joe. How do you do, Mr. Friday? I just don't understand it, Sergeant. I don't understand any of it. My boy Ken wasn't the type to go racing around like that in the car. He never took the car without my permission. I just don't know what got into it. Had you noticed at all whether your boy was acting a little strange the last few weeks or so? No. Of course, I only saw Ken in the morning, a few hours in the evening. I'm at the office all day. Why do you ask that? Well, was he going out very often on school nights, keeping odd or unusual hours? He used to go to the library three or four nights a week to do his schoolwork. Got home about midnight a few times, and I warned him about that. Did you have any way of knowing if he was really spending his nights at the library? No, but I took his word for it. Ken didn't lie to me. What's this have to do with the auto accident, Sergeant? I don't think I understand. The officers investigating the accident, sir. They checked over the car afterward. Why was it? Were the brakes bad? What'd they find? Bill? Yeah. You see this small metal case, we found it in the front seat on the floor of the car. What's that stuff inside? Did this belong to Ken? Yes, sir. We think he was using it. What for? I don't know. It's marijuana. Men and women who traffic in narcotics all the way from the small time peddler to the big wholesaler are rated among the lowest kind of criminal. One step lower, you find an even more vicious kind. Those who lure youngsters into the deadly trap of narcotics who feed on the nickels and dimes by supplying their young victims with dope. The death of 17-year-old Kenneth Morrow was the second of its kind within eight months. It seemed to stem from unidentified suspects who were making it their business to build a thriving marijuana trade among high school students. Thursday, 11 a.m., we continued to question the dead boy's father, Thomas Morrow, but he couldn't tell us anything further that might help. Friday, April 12, we checked with the principal of the high school which the Morrow boy attended. We talked to the boy's teachers and checked his school record. His marks had been above average till about three months before when they began to fall off for no apparent reason. We got a list of most of the boy's friends from his teachers and we started checking them out. One was a 16-year-old blonde girl, Peggy Kane, supposedly Kenneth Morrow's girlfriend. We found her waiting outside the music room. Yes, Ken and I went around together for a while. He was a real nice boy. Did you see each other quite a bit, Peggy? Oh, for about five or six months. Yes, we got along fine. Just after Christmas was the last time I went out with him and we double dated. Mm-hmm. Did he seem all right to you then? I mean, did he act different at all? Well, a little different, yes. Not silly, you know. He just wasn't like he used to be. How do you mean? Well, he didn't talk the same. Ken was a real nice boy most of the time. I guess he started getting in with the wrong crowd. He began to swear, you know, bad talk, things like that. When did all this start, Peggy? Do you remember? Just before Christmas, I think. I'm not sure. Poor Ken. Was there anything else you might have noticed? I don't know. Ken used to be pretty good about his studies and all of a sudden it seemed he just didn't care. Sometimes he'd come into the library, we used to study there, and he'd make a lot of noise. Just changed, that's all. For a while we didn't see each other there anymore. Well, why was that, Peggy? We just didn't come down. I called his house a couple of times. His folks said he was at the library. I didn't say anything to him. Well, did Ken have many friends here at school? Do you know that? Not many, no. I see. Of those he did have, who would you say was closer to him? Gee, I don't know, Sergeant. There were half a dozen of them. Ken used to be with all of them. No one boy in particular. Well, Bob Lavelle maybe. I saw Ken in Bob's car a few times. Does Lavelle go to school here? Yes, he's a senior. Ken used to work with Bob down in the cafeteria after school, but he got in the mix up, he was fired. Bob was fired? No, Ken. He was rude to one of the ladies down there who does the cooking. Bob still works there. Would he be at the cafeteria now, do you know? Yes, I think so. The fountain's open until about 3.30. And you think that this Bob Lavelle was about the closest friend that Ken had, huh? I think so. The only one I know, anyway. Have you talked to Ken's folks? Yeah, we have. I feel so sorry for him. Gee, I think I have to go now, Sergeant. I have a chemistry class. Just one more question, Peggy. Last time you went out with Ken on this double date, who was the other couple? Do you remember? I don't remember their names. They were some kids I never saw before. Ken knew them. It wasn't much of a date. Where did you go? We started for the show, but Ken changed his mind. He wanted to go to the beach and park. He was acting funny, talking all the time, saying silly things. The other boy was the same way. Were they drinking? No, I never saw Ken take a drink. I couldn't smell any liquor on his breath. I don't know. It was such a silly thing. What was that? Well, maybe it's just my imagination, but Ken and this other boy had a real terrible musty smell about them. I kidded them about it, and they said they'd been to a tea party. That's where they got it. They kept talking silly like that all evening. I see. Was the musty smell all over the car or just on the boys? All over. It kind of made me sick, but they didn't seem to mind it. Look, I'd like you to think real careful, Peggy. Have you ever come across that musty smell on anybody around the school here? Yes, I have a couple of times. Makes me sick. What is it? Who did you notice it on, Peggy? Bob Lavelle. Ben and I went back to the principal's office and checked the record on Robert Lavelle. He was 18 years old, and he was scheduled to graduate in June. The registrar told us that there was a good chance that he wouldn't be graduated because his marks had been poor for the better part of the year. They dropped even lower during the present semester. Lavelle had played football the year before and had made third string on the All-City team. He was well liked by his teachers. For the last two years, he'd worked part-time at the school soda farm. We went down to interview him. Nice setup, huh? Yeah. Cafeteria, soda farm. Wasn't like that in my day. It must be the boy there behind the counter. Oh, yeah. Let's sit down. How about that, Joe? What's that? That sign hanging up there. Idiot special. Five scoops of ice cream, marshmallow, bananas, chocolate, strawberry flavoring, whipped cream topping, maraschino cherries, chopped nuts, and onion. No, you're reading over. That's on the hamburger sign there. Oh. Yeah? You want something? Chocolate soda. Could you make it with vanilla ice cream, please? Chocolate soda with vanilla cream. Are you Bob Lavelle? Yeah, that's right. Police officers, Bob. We'd like to talk to you. Oh. Well, I'm pretty busy right now. Got to clean up. We close in a few minutes. I'll make you soda right away. You say chocolate? Yeah, that's right. Well, we'll make it brief. Did you know Ken Morrow, Bob? Oh, yeah. He used to work here. Did you spend much time with him outside of school, I mean? Not much. Went to a couple of shows together. It's about all. I'm kind of rushed now. When was the last time that you saw him? You remember? A week ago, I guess. Too bad about Ken. How about the night he was in the accident? Did you see him then? No, I didn't know him too well. He went around with a different crowd. They reached me a bag of those cashews, huh, Joe, on the card there? Yeah. There you go. Oh, thanks. Want some? Crisp. No, no thanks. The nuts or the dime, Officer? Right there on the counter, Bob. Oh, yeah. I gotta get going soon as I close. I have to get out of town. We talked to some of Ken Morrow's friends around the school, Bob. They tell us that he used to drive around in your car with you quite a bit. Just a couple of times around school. You hadn't been with him for about a week before the accident. That's right. Just what I told you. You want a little whipped cream on that? Yeah, yeah, a little. How about a cherry? Good. Good idea. There you are. Thank you. Too late to fix a hamburger? Yeah, I really gotta close up. It's getting a little late, officers, I'm gonna have to close up right now. We'll make it fast. Did you notice anything different about the Morrow boy in the last few weeks? Anything peculiar at all? No, he was the same as ever. I didn't notice anything. All right, look, Bob, we're gonna lay it out for you. Did you know he was using marijuana? No, I didn't know anything about it. Do you have any idea where he might have gotten it? I wouldn't know that. Look, you mind if I lock up the counter now? I'll come around the other side. Sure, go ahead. I didn't know that about Ken, officer. I wouldn't know where he got his stuff. You sure he was using marijuana? Well, we found some in his car, we found some more in his locker upstairs. That's tough. Anything more, officer, I gotta hurry. Well, it's just routine, Bob. We did the same with the other boys we talked to. We'd like to check your locker. You don't mind, do you? I gotta get out of town. I'm late now. Your locker's just upstairs, isn't it? It won't take that long. It's important to me. I gotta get out of town. We've got our car outside. We'll drive you down. We'll be down there in no time. No, I've already got a ride. Can't you check it tomorrow? It's not gonna take a minute, Bob. Now, let's go, huh? All right. Say, I happen to remember. I didn't bring my locker key today. Can't tell. Yeah. Come to think of it, I don't know where it is. I guess I lost it. Well, we must have a passkey around here, don't we? I don't think so. Well, we'll ask at the office, huh? You're putting me in a jam, officer. That's gonna take time. I'm due downtown. I'm sorry, Bob, but we gotta check it. I got my locker all jammed up with stuff. It'll take us an hour. Office is down there, Jim. Yeah, all right, let's go. I don't know why you're picking on me. My locker's jammed. They can't get it open. Why are you picking on me? Let's ask in here. Go ahead, Bob. Close the door. Yeah. I got my key. I'll show you. Robert LaVelle took us to his locker and opened it. Hidden inside one of his gym shoes, we found four sticks of medium-grade marijuana. We took them, put them in an envelope, and sealed it. On the way downtown, the boy told us that he'd been buying this stuff for about six months and reselling it to some of the students at the high school. Said that he paid 50 cents apiece for the sticks and sold them for 75. He was an occasional user himself. Before we turned him over to the juvenile officers, he told us that a man named Ray Jensen supplied him with a marijuana. Jensen's address was a trailer camp in the southwest part of Los Angeles. We drove out and checked with the operator of the camp. He pointed out Jensen's trailer at the rear of the camp. That one, Joe? The blue and gray one? Yeah, this is good right here. Okay. Looks like Jensen's doing well, huh? Yeah, nice-looking trailer. Just a minute. Yeah? Weesawks. All right, open it up. Get out of here. Come on, watch it, Joe. All right, hold it, mister. Get out. Get out. All right, Jensen. That's good, Ben. I'll get him. Come on, get out. What's the pitch, huh? Where's your warrant? It's all over the floor, Jensen. Marijuana. Who tipped? One of those lousy kids, huh? Which one? You guess. You know enough of them. You can't have me for all that. I'm not the big guy. All right, then who is? I don't know. I'm only one of the mules. Where do you get your stuff? The big guy, the big tomato. That's what they call him. Yeah? Big man. Nobody sees him. I don't even know what he looks like. Neither do you. You let us worry about that. Come on. Big tomato, that's what they call him. You won't get him. He's smart. You won't get him in 89 years. Maybe not, but we'll get him. You are listening to Dragnet. Authentic stories of your police force in action. Now, here's an authentic report from Fatima cigarettes. 1949. Fatima more than doubled its smokers coast to coast. 1950. Another record-breaking year. With more long cigarette smokers insisting on Fatima quality than ever before. In 1951, enjoy Fatima quality yourself. Yes, friends, in Fatima, the difference is quality. Quality of tobaccos. The finest Turkish and domestic varieties, extra mild and superbly blended. To give you a much different, much better flavor and aroma. Quality of manufacture. Smooth plump cigarettes rolled in the finest paper money can buy. Quality. Even to the appearance of the bright clean golden yellow package. Carefully wrapped and sealed to bring you Fatima's rich, fresh, extra mild flavor. Compare Fatima yourself. Fatima's now cost the same as other long cigarettes. But your first puff will tell you, ah, that's different. Yes, in Fatima, the difference is quality. Start enjoying Fatima quality yourself. Insist on Fatima. The quality king-size cigarette. Best of all, long cigarettes. Friday, April the 12th, 7 p.m. We searched the trailer and a stakeout was placed on it. And then we took Ray Jensen downtown to the main jail where he was booked for suspicion of narcotics, a felony. The next day, Ben and I went back and questioned him. We got nowhere. The only thing he'd tell us was that the leader of the marijuana ring was unknown to him. The Big Tomato, that's all he could tell us. We went back and started rechecking leads furnished just by some of the high school boys who had purchased narcotics from Robert Lavelle. They all ended nowhere. Meantime, the flow of marijuana into the schools and into the hands of the teenage students continued. We'd no sooner choke off one source of supply when two more would turn up. We knew that there was only one real solution. Find the gang leader and wipe out the entire supply and distribution setup. We stayed on it. Monday, April 22nd. Ben got a call from one of his informants that he had a lead on the source of marijuana on the east side of town. The informant's name was Willie Breck, a groundskeeper at a golf course near one of the city high schools. We drove out to talk to him. We located Breck by the clubhouse near the first tee. On the tee now, R. Cory, Richard Bridget. You remember my partner, don't you Willie Joe Friday? Oh yeah, hi. How are you, Willie? Kind of busy today, big tournament. Yeah, quite a crowd you got here. It's a nice turnout. You've been having trouble, huh? How to marry in town? Yeah, you think you can help us? Maybe I can. Dirty business, working high school kids with that stuff. It's real dirty. Any ideas, Willie? Don't know how much of it's true. It's all from the grapevine downtown. The boss is somebody they call the Big Tomato. It's funny when that. Any idea who he is? Couldn't say. He's getting lots of this stuff in though. Usual feed line over from Mexico. What else, Willie? I hear there's more on the way. Don't know when though. It's a proper high school trade. Guess they figure they got a good business. How they getting jump over, you know? No, but it's getting here. Almost any kid can get some over on this side of town. Imagine that. Kids in their teens. Weed hits. How about this Big Tomato, Willie? No word it though? Just one, pretty thin. Yeah. There's a connection. Lives over on Hauser Boulevard. Got his number here somewhere. Supposed to be the main connection for this Tomato guy. Oh yeah, there's his address. Third number there. It's a six. His name is Tony Childs. Is he supposed to handle all this stuff? Most would, I hear. Gets it off in the Big Tomato. That about it? That's it. Tony Childs. You got the address. Many thanks, Willie. When anything comes up, you'll call, huh? Sure thing. How's the job out here? Better than yours. I sure wouldn't want it. Working every day around joy poppers, mules, main liners. Somebody's gotta do it, Willie. Yeah, but not for me, Sergeant. Those doasters are all lice. Selling junk to kids. Guess you met the lowest, huh? No, not yet. We're looking for him. We went back to the office and checked the name and address of Tony Childs through R&I. No previous record. A stakeout was placed on his home and at his place of business. Childs himself was placed under 24-hour surveillance. A week passed. Nothing happened. Another week. Still nothing. There was no letup in the supply of marijuana finding its way into the city and into the schools. We couldn't see the beginnings of the racket, but we saw the end result. The percentage of juvenile users was still in the upswing. Wednesday, May 8th. We heard rumbles of another big marijuana buy in the offing. Either it failed to materialize or we missed it. Friday, May 10th. Ben and I took our turn shadowing the suspect, Tony Childs. Can you see him from here, Joe? Yeah. He's still in the barbershop. There's two guys with him. Yeah. Ten past four. We better check in, huh? Yeah, I'll call in, huh? Drugstore there. No telephone. Yeah, all right. I'll be right back. Narcotics, please. Thank you. Yeah, Johnny. This is Joe Friday. Yeah. Yeah, we got him paid. Okay, right away. Bye. What have you got? Tony Childs. They want him picked up right away. How come? Well, they just raided this place. They found 32 ounces of weed in his room. Supposed to have more on him. Let's go. Come on. What do you think, trouble? Don't be surprised. Childs, I'd like to talk to you. What's that? Police officers like to talk to you and your two friends here downtown. Can't make it, copper. I'm flying to Vegas tonight. We want to see you downtown first. Good luck. Don't push me, huh? Nobody's pushing you, Childs. We want to see you downtown. Now, come on. Let's go. Look out, Joe! You ready to wrap him, Sam? Watch him! That's it. Three of them. Okay. Not getting them? All right. Come on, you. I'm glad this doesn't come up often. Where's the barber? He ran outside. Rough one, huh? Yeah. What's your hunch, Joe? Think one of these three is the big tomato? I don't know. Let's ask him. A search of the barber's shop failed to reveal the presence of any narcotics. Tony Childs and his two companions were found to have a dozen sticks of marijuana in their possession. They were treated for cuts and bruises at Georgia Street and then booked for suspicion of narcotics, a felony, at the main jail. Three other men found at Childs' apartment at the time of the raid were also booked. We got nowhere questioning any of them. As usual, we had the small fry, but the ringleader, the big tomato, was still in the clear. Still free to hire somebody else to run the marijuana supply line into the high schools. Three weeks passed. Together with Captain Kearney and Sergeant Barr, Ben and I rechecked our earlier leads. We ran down anything that even looked like it might be promising. Nothing panned out. Wednesday, June 5th, 5.30 p.m. We got a call from the main jail. Tony Childs wanted to talk to us. Ben and I went over to see him. Charles? I got something for you. Been playing the stooge long enough. If I'm good enough for jail, so's he. All right, what do you got? There's a big buy coming off. When you get him, tell him how long I've been in here. What kind of a buy? Mary, one of the biggest. It was set up before I got in here. Where's your mate gonna be? Bruno Street, down by the train yards. I'll draw you a map. Set up's the same. Car pulls up and honks a couple of times in an alley down there. Who's handling the buy? A big man. Don't waste any time. When is it? Tonight. We went back to the office and met with Sergeants Barr and Jacobson. 8 p.m. Ben and I took up our positions on the stakeout along with the rest of the men. We had a clear view of the exact location where the buy was to be made. We waited. 10 p.m. 11 p.m. No one showed. Midnight came and went. 1.30 a.m. Still no sign. At 18 minutes of 2, we spotted a man carrying a shopping bag emerge from behind a row of freight cars near the end of the rail yard. He made his way across the street to the alley. He stood back in the shadows. As soon as the car gets in the alley, we pull up and block it, hon. Yeah, that's right. Beck will do the same thing down at the other end. Headlights coming in the alley. Wait a minute. No, no, they're going on through. What's the time now? Four minutes to 2. We waited. 18 minutes passed. Still no sign of the car that, according to Charles, was supposed to be there for the big buy. We could still see the figure of a man with a shopping bag huddled in the alley. 3 a.m. Joe? Yeah? Car down there in the alley? Yeah. That's it. You want to start up? Yep. Just enough to block the alley. That's good. All right, come on, let's go. Come on. All right, kill your engine and get out of the car. Joe, look out! They can't go far. Come on. All right, let's get them out of there. Yeah. Here's three of them. Here's the guy with the shopping bag. All right, I got it. Fresh, not some cold. That's one. Easy there. Yep. Pull right over there, will you? Get his coat off of that. I got it. That's it. There we are. All three of them. Yeah. Hey, hey, look at this, Joe. Found one of them in this guy's hand. In the can, huh? Mm-hmm. Full of marijuana. Did you look at the labels on those cans? Yeah. Fancy solid packed to man. Yeah. There he is, a big tomato. The story you have just heard was true. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent. On October 3rd, trial was held in Superior Court, Department 89, City and County of Los Angeles, State of California. In a moment, the results of that trial. Now, here is our star, Jack Webb. Thank you. Jack, you're a great actor. You're a great actor. You're a great actor, and you'll be a great actor in the future. Thank you. Now, here is our star, Jack Webb. Thank you. Friends, if you're a long cigarette smoker, like I am, remember in Fatima, the difference is quality. Now, believe me, this difference is mighty important. So important that you'll always remember the first pack of Fatimas that you buy. Fatima's fast-growing popularity backs me up on that. But look, you can prove it to yourself by getting a pack of Fatimas tomorrow. And your first pack will convince you to go right on smoking them. Join me in the new thousands who enjoy Fatima's extra mildness. Fatima's rich, better flavor and aroma. You'll discover what all we Fatima smokers know. In Fatima, the difference is quality. John A. Stanson, alias the Big Tomato, along with his associates in the Narcotic Gang, was tried and convicted for violating the State Narcotic Act. He received sentences as prescribed by law, and are now serving their terms in the state penitentiary. The radio editors of the United States and Canada have named Dragnet the best radio program of its type for 1950. And Dragnet's Jack Webb, the most promising star of tomorrow. On behalf of Dragnet, I'd like to thank the radio editors of the United States and Canada and the editors of Motion Picture Daily, who conducted the voting in the 15th annual poll for Fame magazine. You have just heard Dragnet, a series of authentic cases from official files. Technical advice comes from the Office of Chief of Police, W.H. Parker, Los Angeles Police Department. Fatima cigarettes, best of all long cigarettes, has brought you Dragnet, and the other portions transcribed from Los Angeles. Later, here's Spellbound with Joseph Cotton on Screen Directors on NBC.