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The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
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You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned to homicide detail.
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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.
It was Wednesday, October the 6th. It was sultry in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out of homicide.
My partner's Ben Romero. The boss is Thad Brown, chief of detectives. My name's Friday.
We were on the way out from the office and it was 10.45 a.m. when we got to Ortega Street.
Number 1285.
Second floor?
Yeah, room 14.
They all smell the same, don't they?
What's that?
It's a Roman house.
No, these are the odd numbers here. It must be down that way, huh?
Yeah, here it is. 14.
Yeah, just a minute.
Taking his time.
Try it again, huh?
Yeah, yeah, all right.
Yeah?
Police officers. Your name Henry Ross?
Get out of here! Get out of here!
All right, come on.
What is this? What do you want?
Ben?
Yeah, I got him.
What is this? You guys really cops?
Come on, get up.
No fooling. No fooling. You really cops?
I thought you were faking.
We showed you our identification at the door.
I thought you were faking. That's the truth.
There's a couple of guys out there to mush me up. I thought you were them.
Your name Henry Ross?
Yeah, that's right.
I thought you were one of those moochers I had a fight with in the bar the other night.
Said he was going to get a pal and come back in and take care of me.
Yeah?
Yeah. I ain't got no reason to fight with cops.
I didn't do my room any good. Landlady's sure going to scream.
All right, come on. You want to finish up dressing?
I want to talk to you downtown.
What's it about, officer?
Missing person. No briefing when we get downtown.
Well, it's hard with me.
Would you take these handcuffs off, please? It's kind of hard dressing with them.
All you have to do is put your shoes on. You can make out.
All right. I don't know why you had to slap handcuffs on me.
I didn't know you were a cop.
You mind if we check through your things, Rowe?
Huh? Why?
You mind?
Oh, go ahead if you want. I got a night.
You know, if you'd have spoke up at the door, that wouldn't have been a fight.
I thought you were that mooch in the bar and his friend.
I thought you were looking for trouble.
You about ready to go?
Yeah. I'd like to brush my teeth off, you know, Mike.
I got a real moth full of cotton this morning.
All right. What do you keep your toothbrush?
It's over here. I'll get it.
No, I'll get it. Never mind.
You hear it?
Yeah. First shelf. It's in the glass.
Yeah, I got it.
Won't you trust me?
Here you go.
Want some toothpaste?
Yeah.
All right.
Here you go.
Turn on the water tap, huh?
Hey. Nothing, Joe. It's pretty clean.
Of course I'm clean. What'd you expect?
Anybody could have made the mistake. I didn't know you were a cop.
Henry Osworth Ross. Is that your full name?
Yeah, that's right.
I hardly ever use the Osworth, though.
It's a real lousy name, huh?
What's the fetch on all this, Officer?
We told you, missing person. Want to talk to you about it.
I don't think I can help you.
Nobody I know is missing.
How about Paul Davis?
Davis? Yeah, I know Davis.
I don't know if his name is Paul, though.
Been gone a long time, huh, Mr. Davis?
Yeah, that's right.
Anything wrong?
Something wrong, you think?
We figure murder.
After going over his room thoroughly, we took Henry Osworth Ross back to the city hall, to the interrogation room.
He was a slightly built man, dark hair, brown eyes, swarthy complexion.
He was a longshoreman by trade.
Among his friends and acquaintances, he was known as a heavy drinker and a man with a violent temper.
Ben and I questioned him for a half an hour and got nowhere.
He sat across the table, relaxed, scraping at a thick callus on his hand with his fingernail.
I'll tell you the truth. I just don't know what you're getting at.
I think I know a guy named Davis, and that's about as far as it goes.
Sure that's all you've got to tell us?
Of course I'm sure.
Now look, I've got a right to call a lawyer if you're going to sit there and throw a lot of charges at me.
We're not throwing charges at you, Henry. We've got a missing persons case. We'd like to have you cooperate. That's about it.
Well, maybe I'd like to, but I can't.
Paul Davis is just a name to me. Maybe I know him. I don't know.
You got that report there, Ben?
Yeah, just a minute.
Here you go.
Thanks.
Well, here's the way it goes, Henry.
Yeah?
According to his wife, Paul Davis left Los Angeles by auto a little over four months ago.
He was driving up to Oakdale, California to take a job with a dairy company up there.
He never got there. He's been missing ever since.
So? What's the pitch?
All we've been able to find is Davis' car, the 36 Ford Coupe, 7 Tom, 792.
It was sold a month ago up in Lodi, California.
But Davis didn't sell it. A man by the name of Carter signed the pink slip at the time of the sale. Henry Carter.
Sorry. I don't mean anything to mean.
Well, as Carter made it look like Paul Davis had signed the Ford over to him, we checked it out. Davis' signature was Ford's.
That's so. It's supposed to have something to do with me.
Did you ever use the name Henry Carter?
Of course not. Ross. It's the only name I go by.
Never had your name changed?
No.
Never used an alias?
I told you, no.
I wonder if you'd mind taking a look at this.
Here you go, this here.
What's this got to do with me?
The pink slip to Paul Davis' car.
See these signatures on the back here? Transfer of ownership. Recognize either one of them?
Paul Davis and Ray's car.
Well, doesn't mean anything to me. Is it supposed to?
It should, yeah.
Why?
The signatures are both in your handwriting.
How about it, Henry?
How about what? I don't even know what you're talking about. You're trying to give me the treatment. What's this all about?
I'm trying to locate Paul Davis.
I'm not even sure I know the car.
I think you better level, Henry. Our handwriting man checked both the signatures. It's your writing.
Well, then maybe you better get a new handwriting man. I never saw that slip. I never wrote those signatures. Anybody can copy handwriting.
Well, I've got something else for you, Ross. I'd like to have you check it over, see if you can identify it.
What is it?
It's a letter. I want to take a look here.
Does that mean anything to you?
No, nothing. I hope you're not going to tell me this is my handwriting.
That's what the report says.
Oh, it's crazy. I never wrote like that in my life.
All the writing characteristics match up. Same as the signatures on the pink slip.
All right. Maybe they are the same. I didn't write either one. I never wrote like that in my life. Here, let me show you how I write.
No, it's all right, Henry. Ben, you want to pull the package tomorrow night?
Yeah, okay.
I don't savvy one bit of this, Sergeant. How about laying it out in here?
You can see the name at the bottom of the letter. It's signed Henry Carter, same as the pink slip.
Well, that doesn't mean anything to me.
This letter was sent to the wife of Paul Davis about nine weeks ago.
And it says here that Davis supposedly was too busy to write his wife, so he had this Henry Carter send a letter.
He also writes in here that Davis sold his car to Carter.
Somebody trying to cover up, huh?
Yeah, we think so. We think it's Henry Carter.
This Davis guy has been gone about four months?
That's right.
You said you thought Davis was murdered. How come?
Just an idea.
Eight men had disappeared from around here in the last 14 months, just like Davis.
Six more up in the San Joaquin Valley the same way.
They took off alone on auto trips. We've never seen again. Not a trace.
Pretty funny.
Here you go, Joe.
Thank you.
You've got your record here, Henry, from Baton Rouge.
Sent the Sheriff Plemons for it.
Huh?
Huh? Look, do we have to drag all out again? It's past.
Just one thing we had to check, Henry.
You told us that you never use an alias, is that right?
All right, I have. I didn't know what you were getting at.
I didn't think I was going to use dragging out dirty laundry again.
I asked you if you ever used the name Henry Carter.
Okay, I've used it. It's a common name. There's a lot of Henry Carters around.
We only know one if it's your description.
I'm clean. You know that.
Want a smoke, Henry?
No.
Joe?
No, thanks.
Well, let me have one, will you?
Here you go.
Thanks.
You've got a match here.
You know, we rode this thing for four months.
All over the state. Here.
Thanks.
I'll tell you what we got, Henry. We'll let you make up your own mind.
It's not my writing.
On June 4th, Paul Davis left Los Angeles and his car headed for Oakdale.
Late in the afternoon, he stopped for gas at a service station just beyond San Fernando.
The attendant says a man was with Davis. You fit that man's description, Henry.
Yeah? Well, I've seen monks like that in court.
They get on the stand and can't even remember their own name.
A couple others. You and Davis stopped for a hamburger just outside of Gorman.
There's a man there. He remembers you, too.
He stopped again in Bakersfield. He picked up a quart of oil for the car.
You and Davis had a coke the last time you were seen alive.
That makes me a killer, huh?
A month after that, the pink slip to Davis' car came through DMV up in Sacramento.
That was for the transfer of ownership from Davis to Henry Carter.
Both in your handwriting.
A couple of weeks later, Mrs. Davis got that letter.
A month ago, Davis' car was sold to a dealer in Lodi.
Yeah, yeah.
We found the dealer, Ross. Showed him your mug shot.
He says you sold him the car.
That all?
It's just the main part. There's more.
We've been on the road a lot. We followed you from here to Sacramento and back, Henry.
Every stop, every detour took us a long time.
Yeah, I guess it did.
What do you say, Ross?
Nothing.
Any way you want it, Henry.
You got on the smoke?
Yeah.
Here you go.
Thanks.
Here.
Yep. I guess you worked hard on it, huh?
All over the state.
That's right.
Must be pretty hot up in the Valley some at that. Dusty, huh?
We may, yeah.
I've never been up in the Valley in the summer. It's too hot for me.
They got people who saw you there.
What's it prove? Ten people and some writing samples.
You can't build a case on that. You know it, don't you?
We're gonna try.
You think I murdered Davis?
You, Sergeant?
Yeah.
You think I murdered those other guys, too, huh?
What was it, 10, 12 of them?
We're asking about Davis.
You think I killed him?
Tell me the truth. You think I murdered Davis?
Yeah, I think you did.
Well, then you know as well as I do, there's only one way to prove it.
Find his body.
1.15 p.m. Ben and I took Henry Ross out and fed him some lunch.
Then we took him back to the City Hall to the interrogation room where we continued to question him.
It was relaxed and he talked a great deal about everything but the disappearance of Paul Davis.
He didn't seem anxious to get away, made no demands for an attorney to represent him.
For a full hour, he did most of the talking.
He told us about the different homicide cases he'd read up on.
He asked us about the 12 men who'd disappeared in the past months in the same manner Paul Davis had.
Was there any trace of him at all?
Did we have any leads?
How do we think we were going to find him?
Well, we finally got around to asking him if he'd submit to a lie detector test.
He seemed taken by the idea and agreed to it almost immediately.
Ben called Sergeant Berger and made arrangements for the test.
We made up a list of key questions.
At 5 p.m., we took the suspect to the third floor of the Old City Jail where Sergeant Berger gave him the polygraph test.
On the way back to the office, Ross complained he was hungry.
We stopped and bought him coffee and donuts.
We got back to the interrogation room a little after 6 p.m.
The questioning continued.
Ross didn't seem to mind at all.
He kept talking. We let him talk.
8 p.m., he was still going strong.
You remember the Wilson case back in 34, don't you, Sire?
Woman killed a whole family.
Big case, you remember.
Yeah, it was pretty tragic.
Is that a hobby of yours, Henry, collecting murder stories?
No, no, I just read them, remember.
I guess I can remember every big murder case in the last 15 years.
That's how?
Yeah, I spot all of them.
I guess it is kind of a hobby. I get a big kick out of it.
I got it, Ben. Excuse me, Henry.
Oh, sure.
Interrogation room, Friday.
Oh, yeah, Berger.
Hmm?
No, how many?
Uh-huh. Yeah.
Okay, thank you.
You know, there's one thing I get a real big kick out of.
It's detective magazines.
Mystery stories, the way they make out the murderer.
How do you mean?
You know, they always build it up into something big.
Somebody's always killing somebody else for a million dollars.
Maybe over some woman, some beautiful woman.
Same way with the movies.
That's where they get it all mixed up.
I'm like a follower, Henry.
Oh, sure you do.
Every time some guy writes a murder story,
he's got to build up a big reason for the killing.
A lot of money, beautiful woman.
Revenge, maybe. Always got to be a big reason.
Motive, motive, that's what they say.
Well, generally works out that way, doesn't it?
Why?
I bet you there's a thousand murder cases in your files
without any reason at all.
Some people kill, that's all.
I've heard about lots of them.
They just want to kill and they go ahead and do it.
Maybe for a few bucks, maybe for nothing.
They just do it.
That's all.
Sure, you know that.
Like this thing you've been talking about.
Ten, twelve guys disappear.
They got a few bucks, maybe they got nothing.
Somebody plows them under and that's all.
No big reason.
They just do it.
So twelve guys are gone.
It doesn't mean anything.
That's how you got it figured on him.
Huh?
A phone call a minute ago there.
It was a man who gave you the lie detector test.
Oh, that right. How'd it go?
He just finished going over your graph.
He got sixteen positive reactions.
Yeah, what's that mean?
You lied, Henry, sixteen times.
That right.
You better tell him to get a new machine.
I lied all the way through.
Mind telling us why?
Yeah, why?
I guess I knew you'd find out.
Let's go get something to eat first, though I'm hungry.
We better talk a little more, Henry.
Let's go. I'll tell you why we're eating.
Bring a pencil with you. Draw your map.
Map of what?
The canyon. Where I buried it.
You are listening to Drag Mitt.
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Wednesday, 9.55 p.m. Ben and I took Henry Ross across the street,
bought him a Coke at Mac's place,
then we took him next door to the Melbourne cafeteria.
It was almost closing time.
Ross got himself a cottage cheese and pineapple salad,
bacon and liver with onions, rye bread, banana pie and coffee.
Ben had a hot beef sandwich, mashed potatoes and coffee I had the same.
At the back of the cafeteria, one of the bus boys was mopping the tile floor.
It was a strong smell of disinfectant.
How about that table over there, Sergeant? That all right with you?
Yeah, it's okay. Doesn't make any difference.
It's fine.
Want some water?
Yeah, yeah, please.
All right, I'll get some.
Oh, boy, living onions.
That sure smells great, huh?
Yeah, I can't take those onions so well.
They repeat on me.
Not me, I can eat any.
Salt and pepper?
Yeah, thanks.
Boy, I'm sure hungry. I haven't eaten much today.
Did you get a sandwich made with rye bread?
No, grain bread.
Oh, you should have gotten the rye, real German rye bread.
Smell that, real nice and fresh.
Here you go, Ben.
Oh, thanks.
Oh, thank you.
You know, all that talk really sharpened up my appetite.
Boy, this food tastes good.
Do you want a gel?
Yeah, thanks.
We brought a pencil along, Henry.
You want to start taking notes?
As good a time as any, I guess.
You know, the whole thing just comes right back to what I was trying to tell you there in the office.
Yeah, what's that?
Well, you know, all about those phony mystery stories.
Oh, yeah.
Every time there's trouble, there's a big reason behind it.
It's phony, that's all.
Yeah?
Sure, it's Paul Davis, for instance.
I guess I knew you'd find me out.
I knew this morning when you picked me up, you had it figured.
Must have been a big job, huh?
Finding me?
Pretty big, Henry, you know.
A lot of mileage.
How'd it happen?
Well, there again.
Just like I was saying.
Ain't no big reason behind it.
I needed a few bucks from this Davis camera, huh?
I guess he was it.
Pass me a ketchup, will you?
Oh, yeah.
Here you go.
Get the lid off.
There you go.
Thanks.
Where'd you meet Davis, Henry?
Oh, I was hitchhiking out in Ventura.
I'm not a dime on my jeans.
I was going up to Maricopa.
I thought I had a job up there and Davis came along.
He picked me up.
You ever know him before that?
No.
Stranger.
He says he's going to Oakdale.
Little guy gave me a ride.
Go ahead.
Well, we stopped for gas in San Fernando.
I saw you had a few bucks in his wallet,
and I guess that's when I got the idea.
About what?
Killing him.
Now, maybe that gives you an idea of what I was talking about.
You don't need any big reason to kill somebody.
Davis had 18 bucks.
Now, suppose I told that to a writer.
Somebody killing a guy for 18 bucks.
That wouldn't make much sense, huh?
He'd tell you, never sell.
You need a million dollars, beautiful woman.
Good morning.
Yeah.
Where'd you kill him, Henry?
Just outside of Bakersfield.
Little canyon there.
I got Davis to buy a fifth of sherry in Bakersfield.
He drank some on the way.
Pass the saw, huh?
Yeah.
Here you go.
Thanks.
Living's no good without plenty of salt.
How'd you kill Davis, Henry?
That's a funny thing.
He drank some of the wine, got a little sleazy.
I was just outside of Bakersfield.
Dark by that time.
I spotted this little canyon.
I figured it was the goodest place as any.
So I get some, pull out to a side road,
had a few more drinks,
and I spotted this little shack out there in the middle of nowhere.
Exactly where was this, Henry?
Watt & Sawyer's maybe two miles north of Bakersfield.
We got to the shack, finished the wine, went to sleep.
Both of you?
Mm-hmm.
And that's where the funny part comes in.
I guess I killed Davis, all right.
But I didn't mean it.
Oh, brother, get a whiff of that, huh?
Why do these monks have to mop up while people are eating?
I'll be through in a minute, Henry.
Fine.
How'd you mean Henry didn't mean to kill him?
You already told us you had the idea.
Well, sure I had the idea.
Let me explain, huh?
We both went to sleep in this shack. Davis and me.
Guess that must have been all about 9 o'clock at night.
I don't know what it was.
Maybe the wine, I guess, but I started having nightmares.
Yeah, now maybe this part sounds like a story, but it's the truth.
I had all these dreams.
I woke up, but they're still there.
What was that?
Faces.
Faces, that's all I could see.
There was a full of faces.
I guess I was really still asleep.
Yeah, go ahead.
Oh, I picked up a two by four and started swinging at them.
They're faces.
Funny thing, too, I knew every one of these faces.
How do you mean?
People I killed.
There were only a dozen of them, really, but it seemed like there were a hundred of them
all around in the air.
Well, I grabbed that two by four and I started swinging.
I was cold and sweating all at the same time, and I kept on swinging.
And I saw Davis' face and I swung hard, kept swinging.
Didn't he make a sound?
His eyes closed, kept on swinging at his head.
Well, when I come to it, there he was, lying on the floor.
Seemed to take those other faces away.
They didn't bother me after I killed Davis.
What did you do with him, Henry?
I pulled him outside the shack, dug a hole and buried him.
Burned his clothes, took his car and money and drove off.
I'll show you if you like where I buried him, I mean.
How about these other men, Ross, these faces you saw?
Hmm? Oh.
Hey, uh, why don't I get a little more coffee?
It's all gone.
I'll get it.
You don't?
No, no thanks.
What about it, Ross, the other men?
Well, I don't recall them too well.
It's what you said in the office, 10 or 12 of them.
A couple in Sacramento, the others down through the valley.
Like I say, there was no big reason for killing them.
It just happened that way, that's all.
What did you do with them, you remember?
Generally, yeah.
There's one of them that stands out.
A guy by the name of Slattery,
some kind of salesman, a real crybaby.
Where'd this happen?
My woman picked me up in his car outside at Chuck Schiller.
It was nighttime, he must have been feeling pretty good.
I made him stop on a side road.
I hit him with a piece of angle iron and he cried like a baby.
Buried him in a field, there he is.
One of the faces that I saw.
That's funny, huh?
It shows you how psychology works, huh?
Yeah, what'd you do with his car, Slattery's, I mean?
Go over down to Mexico and throw it there.
I guess that's what I should have done with Davis' gun.
Here you go.
Oh, thanks.
These killings are yours.
You got any more you want to tell us about?
I told you already.
Ten or twelve of them, they're pretty much the same.
When was the first one?
Oh, maybe 18 months, two years ago.
The first one wasn't any harder than the last.
It's just like I was telling you before.
Everybody builds up murders.
It's supposed to be a big thing, hard to do, all those phony stories.
I'd just hit a guy a couple of times with something, that'd be it.
A real small thing.
Didn't change me any, that's why I say it's all built up.
You ever been treated for any mental sickness, Ross?
No, why?
You ever been examined by a psychiatrist?
No.
After you killed these men, did it bother you at all?
Not in just that one dream.
Time-lapse with Davis.
That's about it.
Sure good meal, Sergeant, thanks.
Yeah, okay.
You ready, Ben?
Let's go.
All right.
We go back upstairs, huh?
Yeah, do you want to give us a statement?
All right.
I had an idea you'd find me.
I guess I always knew that you'd find me.
Let's go, Henry.
Guess I proved my point anyway, huh?
It's all built up, huh?
Murder, killing somebody, those phony stories.
It's all built up, it's cheap.
No, you got it wrong, Henry.
Huh?
Wait till they read you the bill.
The story you have just heard was true.
Only the names were changed to protect the innocent.
On January 7th, trial was held in Superior Court,
Department 86, 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.
Friends, the makers of Fatima have done everything possible
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We've got a lot of work to do.
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Henry Ellsworth Ross was tried and found guilty on two counts of murder in the first degree
and received the death sentence. While he indicated that he had murdered the other ten
men, he refused to give any further information regarding the killings or what he had done
with the bodies. Ross was executed in the lethal gas chamber at the State Penitentiary,
San Quentin, California. 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 portions transcribed from Los Angeles. Now more excitement with Counterspy on NBC.