The star you are about to hear is true.
The names have been changed to protect the innocent.
You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned to burglary detail.
A dozen churches in your city are victimized by a team of experienced safe burglars.
You track the suspects for weeks. You finally apprehend three men.
Your job? Convict them.
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.
It's beginning to end. From crime to punishment.
Dragnet is the story of your police force in action.
This Sunday, March 5th, it was cloudy in Los Angeles.
We were working the day watch out of burglary detail.
My partner is Ben Romero. The boss is Captain Wisdom. My name is Friday.
I was on the way back from the record bureau and it was 11.30 p.m. when I got to room 25A, the interrogation room.
Excuse me, Ben?
Yeah, Joe?
Got a minute?
Yeah, sure. Wait here, Bryson. Back in a minute.
All right.
Yeah?
Let's go out in the hall.
Uh-huh.
How are you doing with Bryson? Did he tell you anything?
No, he wasn't medicine. How about the other two men?
No, nothing. They're sitting tight, waiting for their lawyer to show up.
Had all three of them checked through R&I. Bryson's a two-time loser, third degree, GTA.
His two partners serve time for robbery.
We shouldn't have too much trouble putting them away. We've got a good enough collection of physical evidence.
Well, maybe.
You heard from the crime lab yet?
No, not yet. I'd feel a lot better about it if we'd get by to the cop house.
Let's call him again, then.
Yeah, why don't I go in the room? Go ahead.
Keep your seat, Bryson. We've got a few more questions for you.
Oh, excuse me. I thought you had it all squared away by now. I thought you were going to sack and leave by now.
We're afraid not, Bryson. You haven't even given us a story yet.
Well, I told you I didn't have anything to do with it. It seems pretty obvious I didn't. I thought you'd take my word for it.
Didn't you think of any reason why we shared? You lied to us once already, didn't you?
I didn't lie to you. I told you the truth. I didn't break into that church. I didn't have anything to do with it.
On the way in here, we asked you if you'd ever been arrested before and you told us no.
Our record bureau says you're a two-time loser.
Oh, well, I'm sorry about that, Sergeant. I really am. When you picked me up, I guess I got a little nervous.
I didn't mean to lie to you. I was just a little mixed up, I guess.
You've got a little time to settle down. You ought to be able to tell us your story now. Just relax and take your time, huh?
Why?
Well, what did the other two fellows tell you? Miller and Henry?
Well, what difference did that make to you?
Well, it might make a lot of difference, Sergeant.
Well, you just tell us your story. That's all we ask.
What were you doing at the scene of the burglary? What business did you have there?
You weren't mixed up and you've got nothing to hide.
I haven't got nothing to hide. I just don't want to involve a lot of innocent people, that's all.
Anything you tell us is going to help you, you know that, huh?
All right, Sergeant. It's strictly confidential, huh?
Well, one of those other fellows you picked up tonight, the dark-head fellow, his name is Tony Miller.
He's engaged to marry my sister.
Yeah, well, I think that is a little...
Well, please, give me a chance.
All right.
I'd like to lay it all out for you.
Go ahead.
Well, ever since my sister got engaged to her, I've been worried about it.
I never liked him to begin with.
Lately, I've been keeping an eye on Miller, him and that friend of his, Henderson.
I knew they were up to something, and then I read in the paper about that string of church burglaries,
the guys breaking into churches, nothing else to say.
Yeah.
Well, I had an idea as to Miller and his friend.
How do you mean, boy? What made you think it was him?
I had an idea, that's all. I couldn't prove anything. It was just a hunch.
You must have had some reason to expect him.
Nothing definite, no. I just knew something was wrong, that they were up to something.
Well, then, early tonight, I saw a friend of Tony Miller.
He was the one that buys my neighborhood.
I talked to him a while, and finally he told me that Miller and Henderson were out working a deal.
He said they were going to break into a church over on 8th Street and knock over the city.
Well, how come this friend of Miller is like you were on it?
Well, I guess he thought I was a pretty close friend of Tony's.
He knew Tony was going to marry my sister.
Anyway, when I found out about it, I got over to that church as fast as I could.
I wanted to find Miller and Henderson and try and talk them out of it.
I didn't want any guy who was going to marry my sister getting into trouble like that.
You know, maybe going to jail for burglary.
I know Miller's been in jail before. I suppose you knew that.
Yeah, I knew it, but that was before he was engaged to my sister.
You met Miller and Henderson at that church, didn't you?
No, I was too late. They had already broken into the place.
I went around the back of the church, and I saw one of the stained glass windows was broken where they'd gotten in.
I climbed up on the sill, and I could see them working inside.
It was some kind of a small back room. They were working on the safe, both of them, Miller and Henderson.
I see. What did you do there?
Well, I tried to talk them out of it, man. They wouldn't listen.
I suppose you can prove your strength.
I mean, that friend you met in the bar, the one who tipped you off about the burger, and you think you're willing to back up this story?
Well, I'm not sure, Sergeant. He might lie. He might not want to get involved.
How about Miller and Henderson? They're backing up, won't they?
If you weren't involved in the deal, there wouldn't be any reason for them to implicate you with...
Well, Tony Miller thinks it's my fault he's in jail. He hates me.
You can't take his word for anything. Probably the first thing he'd do is lie about it, and Henderson too.
Well, who are you going to corroborate your story?
Well, maybe nobody, but it's the truth. I swear to you, it's the truth.
I'll tell the same thing in court if I have to. They've got to believe.
You're asking a lot, aren't you?
That's the way it happens, so help me.
Yeah.
Now tell me the truth, Sergeant. You know I didn't have a hand in it.
If it goes to court, they couldn't convict me, could they?
Come on, what do you think?
I think you're a liar.
To the working detective, the one logical way to appraise a known criminal is by his record.
You estimate him the same way you check a particular make-up automobile, a racehorse, or a radio set by past performance.
By refusing to buy his trumped-up story, we didn't figure that we were doing this suspect Charles Bryson an injustice.
Bryson was 37 years old. He'd spent 13 of those 37 years in prison, either the county jail or the state penitentiary.
His criminal record dated back to the time he was 20 years old.
Besides serving numerous shorter terms for lesser offenses in the county jail, Bryson had spent two terms in the state penitentiary for burglary.
Despite the efforts of the probation officers, the adult authority, and the rehabilitation officials to help him, he seemed content to go along in his criminal career.
In this particular case, the series of church burglaries.
We had good reason to believe that Bryson and his two accomplices, Miller and Henderson, were the guilty men.
All three of them were booked at the main jail in suspicion of 459 P.C.
The next morning, Ben and I checked in at the crime lab.
Lee Jones, you around?
Yeah, I'm here. Come on back.
How about that? They gave the place a new coat of paint.
Yeah, sure needed it.
Good morning, fellas.
How you doing, Lee?
That set of burglary tools those thieves were using in that church last night, just finished checking them over.
I might have two or three things for you.
What have you got, Lee?
Have a look over here.
You find a set of tools. I take it the thieves had a lot of practice.
All three of them had records. How about some of the other physical evidence you got there?
One thing at a time, John.
Most of all these tools here, small sledge, you see Jimmy, kinch bar, screwdriver.
I think we can hide them in with at least six of those church burglaries.
I think we can do it for certain.
Couldn't work with Rieken, Vich?
I think so, the jury's listening.
Oh, you got it worked out, Lee? Tool markings?
That's part of it, yeah.
I want you to take a look at this kinch bar here.
They did a lot of their work with this.
I guess I don't have to tell you there aren't two identical kinch bars in the world that could leave the same exact markings on a piece of woodwork or on a face.
There aren't a pair of tools in the world that could leave the same markings on anything.
Yeah, we know the case. You're sure during Poverty that the thieves used this kinch bar here on six of the jobs they pulled?
That's the idea. I compared specimen markings of every one of these tools against the markings made at the point of entry on six of the churches these thieves broke into.
In every case, the markings matched perfectly.
These are the tools that made them, no doubt about it.
The screwdriver, the set of windows, and the kinch bar.
Sure won't hurt our case, honey.
Can you tell me something else, Lee?
I examined the end of the kinch bar with a microscope, checked the screwdrivers in these tools.
The tips of each one of them are contaminated with particles of paint, different kinds of paint.
I've already compared these paint transfers with samples of paint taken from the exterior of those churches that were broken into.
Each one of them, they match all the way.
The color of the paint, the age, degree of oxidation, the lead content compares perfectly.
Now come over here, something else.
What have you got there, Lee?
These are the shoes that two men who found inside the church were wearing.
These are the fun impressions of boys from Litton Prince listed off the floor in front of the faith inside the church.
We know him on that church floor, set up the best impressions, and they feel pretty good.
Did you make the prints?
The boys from Litton Prince did, yeah.
Good impressions, you see here?
General size of the shoe, the main heel impression, the wear pattern on the sole here, the whole general characteristics of both pair of shoes matches up to a team.
How much is that going to mean to a jury, Lee?
It's going to mean a lot, for sure.
The same thing I've been telling you, the same thing.
I'd like to tell every cop in the department, if you can fight for nothing at the scene of a crime beyond a reasonable doubt,
then don't go flashing around looking for an object that's an exact duplicate.
Don't play Hoff, sir.
Any microscope will tell you there are no two things in this world exactly identically alike.
I don't care if it's a pair of shoes, a gun, a crowbar, or your two front teeth.
And that's all I have for Lee.
Is he going to have trouble?
I don't know, Lee, he shouldn't have.
You got the few of them, I have the few of the crime, that ought to be enough for the court.
Yeah, I hope so.
I don't sound sure.
I believe there's only one time I'm sure about things like Bryson.
Yeah?
When they check him in at San Quentin.
Two days later, Charles Bryson and his two accomplices, Henderson and Miller, were arraigned in municipal court
on a date set for their preliminary hearing.
Four days later, the preliminary hearing was held and the three of them were bound over for arraignment in Superior Court.
In the weeks that followed, before their arraignment and Superior Court trial,
Ben and I worked along with the District Attorney's Office preparing the case against the three men,
making statements, running down additional evidence, checking and rechecking,
piecing together the facts which we hoped would earn a conviction for each of the criminals.
We weren't positive that it happened.
The strongest part of our case was going to come out of the crime lab, the testimony of Lee Jones.
And we knew as well as Lee did that, generally speaking, juries are not too much in sympathy with scientific facts
when it has to do with physical evidence.
Generally, they don't follow technical cases too well.
We also knew that the three defendants had a good lawyer, a clever one.
Getting convictions wasn't going to be easier.
The trial opened in Superior Court June 2nd. Ben and I testified when we were called on.
On the morning of June 9th, the jury retired to deliberate.
Late that afternoon, we got a call from the Hall of Justice.
Yes, Mitty.
Uh-huh, yeah.
Both of them, huh?
I see, uh-huh.
Well, that's a lot of ideas.
That's right.
Juries back there, they came up with a verdict.
What's the story?
Anderson and Miller, they found them both guilty.
The first degree burglary.
Yeah, what about Bryson?
They let him go.
Well, maybe it was no great shock to us,
but after the time and effort we put in on the case, it was a disappointment.
The worst of the three criminals had been set free.
At the trial, Bryson had taken the stand and told the court the same cock and bull story he told Ben and I,
that he'd gone to the church, the scene of the burglary,
to plead with Henderson and Miller not to commit the crime.
Bryson had a good personality and a fast line of talk.
It wasn't hard to see how he could convince a jury that he was only an innocent bystander.
The biggest obstacle that stood in the way of convicting Bryson was that the prosecution,
the district attorney, according to law,
could not call to the attention of the jury Bryson's previous criminal record,
especially his two prior convictions for burglary.
To them, because of the limitations of the law,
he was presented as a private citizen with as much integrity
and as clean of any previous guilt as you and your neighbor.
Henderson and Miller were committed to the state penitentiary to serve sentences as prescribed by law,
and Charles Bryson, shortly after the trial, left the city.
Two months passed. Saturday, August 8, I started on my vacation.
Two weeks later, on August 22, I checked back in for work.
Hi, Joe. Good to see you.
Hi, Jim. What's been doing?
Oh, not too much. How did the vacation go?
Oh, pretty good, thanks. My mother and I went up north to visit some relatives up in Moone County.
It was a nice trip for her. She hadn't been feeling too well, you know.
Oh, that's too bad. Getting any fishing done?
A little, yeah. That's your beautiful country up here.
Is Ben well?
No, he took off today. He's been putting in some full days while you've been gone.
Oh, that's good. Anything special doing?
Oh, nothing too big. Just doing a chain store burglary out in the town.
I've been working along with Ben.
Yeah? Giving you much trouble?
He's been going a couple of weeks. Not getting any better.
I'm beginning to feel the pressure a little.
How's it stand? Any leads on the suspect?
Just one. Yeah?
That guy by the name of Charles Bryson.
When our suspect Charles Bryson left Los Angeles after his trial some three months before,
we had reports that he was headed east for the city of Memphis, Tennessee.
In subsequent leaks, we had word that he was also seen in St. Louis, Missouri,
where police officers had him under surveillance as a possible suspect in a robbery there.
On or about August 10th, the St. Louis police lost track of Bryson.
A week later, the newest series of burglaries began throughout Los Angeles.
The P.C.M.O. matched that of Bryson down to the last detail.
The places burglarized were chain stores, supermarkets generally.
The method of entry was the same, prying open a back window with a pinch bar, a similar tool.
The manner in which the safes were opened in the various business places that matched, too.
So did five sets of foot impressions found at the scene of five different burglaries,
each of them made by a man wearing tennis shoes.
The operation corresponded exactly to the way Bryson worked.
But there was one big hit in the investigation.
Nobody could be sure Bryson was back in town.
No one had seen him. No one had heard from him.
Monday, August 24th, 8 a.m.
Got us running in circles so far, Joe. I can't figure it.
I bet lunch money is Bryson, but we can't even start to prove it.
How about the people in town Bryson runs with? They all been checked out?
They're the ones we know about, yeah, his friends, relatives, always know him hanging out.
We've been over it every inch of the way.
Everybody knows, they're not saying. There's no trace of him.
Yeah, that's a possibility. Maybe we're wrong.
Go ahead.
What do you mean maybe we're wrong?
Well, the only lead we've got is the M.O. Bryson isn't the only thief who operates that way.
It could be another man using the same system.
Yeah, we've thought about that.
You ran a check through the stats office?
Yeah, uh-huh.
The only known burglars in our records who operate like Bryson are either in jail or out of town or they're dead.
We checked it through a couple of times. It keeps coming out the same way.
Bryson's the only strong lead we've got.
Yeah, but I got it.
Burglary Friday.
Yes, sir.
You know, sir, Sergeant Taber's out right now. Is there any message?
Well, I guess about ten minutes.
Yes, sir, right. I'll tell him. Thank you.
You sure there's no more on all these jobs, not just Bryson, huh?
All the way. That's what's gotten me stumped.
If the guy is pulling these jobs in the Aysen town, somebody should have spotted him.
He's changed stores he's hitting. We've had to take out the home for ten days.
I've got every informant we know watching for Bryson. I'm not a sign.
Hopefully you'll let him go to the gym so they'd call back.
Oh, thanks.
I got this telepathy this morning. I've been in touch with Sergeant Clinton.
Might be a line on Bryson.
I see.
The answer on that mail watch we asked him for.
Uh-huh.
What angles this, Ben?
You remember Church, Burglary's Miller, and Henderson, through the Senate with Sergeant Clinton?
Oh, yeah. You asked Clinton for a mail watch on both of them, did you?
Yeah, I figured there was a chance Bryson might write to him.
Looks like it got us a lead.
What do they got there?
It's from the Warden's office.
So it says, uh, regarding your request on information concerning Charles Bryson,
on August 22nd, Anthony Miller, our number 172156J, received a letter from a person signing himself George Cameron.
Contents of letter suspicious.
Cameron, does that mean anything to you?
I just checked Bryson's package again down there on the R&I.
Cameron was his mother's maiden name.
Bryson's used it as an alias before, quite a few times.
Uh-huh.
How about the return address on the letter, Ben? Los Angeles?
Morning Post Office, General DeLevot.
Monday, 10 a.m., we alerted the Post Office detail and arranged for a mail watch on all incoming letters through General Delivery
addressed to Charles Bryson, George Cameron, or to another of the suspects known aliases.
A week passed. No sign of Bryson, no trace of any of his correspondence through General Delivery.
Another week went by.
Two more chains for our burglaries.
The MO in each case was the same, but matched closely to Bryson's known working habits.
But despite our precautions and the close check we maintained on his friends and his known hangouts,
the suspects still remained unseen and unheard from.
On September 9th, an informant of Ben's called us at the office and told us he thought he'd seen Bryson the night before.
Yeah, Matty, where was that?
Uh-huh, yeah, right, we'll check it, thank you.
Bye.
Bryson's supposed to have been seen near Vermont and Beverly Boulevard last night, drinking in a bar out there.
You're pretty sure it was Bryson?
He thinks so, yeah.
Got the name of the place here.
We can check for the bar tender, see if he can identify Bryson's mug here.
Right, I'll get my top coat on.
I'll get it.
Where's the refraggy?
Yes, sir.
When was that?
Yeah, go ahead.
Uh-huh, I got it.
Yes, sir, right away.
Post office detail, Bryson called for a meal at the General Delivery half an hour ago.
Who is he? Did they follow him?
280 Glenmore, Apartment 6, he's there now.
You are listening to Dragnet, authentic stories of your police force in action.
September 9th, Tuesday, 1130 a.m., the burglary suspect Charles Bryson was placed under surveillance at the apartment where he'd gone immediately after calling for his mail at the General Delivery window in the main post office.
Three teams of men were assigned the job of following Bryson alternately, 24 hours a day.
We waited for a chance to get into his apartment and search it while it was empty, but it never occurred.
Somebody was always there, either Bryson or a tall, dark-haired woman, his common-law wife.
During the week that followed, the suspect was watched everywhere he went. He attempted no burglaries.
On the eighth day, the stakeout was removed. Three nights later, two burglaries were committed.
Both jobs bore the marks of the suspect's M.O., but we couldn't prove a thing against him.
We knew the setup we had was going nowhere. If we wanted to get Bryson red-handed, if we wanted a case against him that would stand up in any court, we had to find a new approach.
Lee Jones came up with an idea.
It's a technical name for its ampersand. I guess you heard of it?
I think I heard you making a name, Lantzberg.
That kind of luminous powder isn't it? It glows in the dark?
No, not exactly. Here, take a look at some. There you see. Colorless, odorless, no smell at all to it.
It's a coal-tile product. We call it crystal and hydrocarbon.
Now here's the point of the thing. When you take this ampersand powder and rub it into the surface of an object, it's completely invisible, its naked eye.
Never know it's there. Here, let me show you.
How about my coat sleeve there?
There you go. That's the powder all over it. Some in your hand too. Rub it in like so.
Now can you see or feel any of the powder while I put it on?
No, nothing there.
Now let me switch on this lamp here. This is a multivitual light. Now watch when I turn it on your arm, what we rubbed on the powder.
Look at your hand, Joe, like it's lighting up.
Yeah, my coat sleeve too. It's glowing.
How about it? Will it step rub off, Lee?
Try it.
You're spreading it all over yourself, everything you test. Anything harmful in it, Lee?
No. Now watch when I turn the lamp off. You see? Gone. Never even know you had it on. Only time it shows up is under ultraviolet light.
Well does it stay on you indefinitely, Lee?
No, the maximum is generally about, oh, say, 24 hours.
You guarantee it'll work, huh?
Well, all physics, Joe, under the proper conditions it's got to.
Just when I tell my classes up at the Academy, crooks and co-skills have one thing in common.
Yeah?
They show up better when you put them on in the right kind of light.
When we left Lee Jones at the crime lab, we figured we had the potential solution in our hands,
but there was still a lot to be done before we could go into any court of law with a case that we were positive was strong enough to convict Charles Bryson.
Number one, we had to get into his apartment when it was unoccupied, find the set of burglary tools he was using, and douse them thoroughly with anthracene, the same for the clothes he worked in.
Number two, we had to get Bryson into custody within 24 hours after he moved on the burglary job or the anthracene wouldn't work.
Number three, we had to find the loot taken in the burglary in his possession. Ten days passed before we got a chance to make good on the first step.
I get it, Joe.
Right. Burglary and Merrill. Yeah, Jim.
Mm-hmm, good. Fine, we'll be right out.
Good break, Joe. I'm Bryson.
What's that?
They hauled him in on a traffic warrant, speed him, put him into the main jail right now. Good chance to go through his apartment.
What about his wife? She's still up there.
She's on her way to put up bail for him.
Yeah.
Apartment's empty.
By the time Bryson was bailed out, Ben and I, along with Jim Tabor and Lee Jones, had combed through Bryson's apartment and finally uncovered a set of burglary tools and work clothes,
carefully hidden beneath the floorboards under a kitchen cabinet directly below the sink.
Lee Jones contaminated each of the tools with the invisible anthracene powder and also the work clothes.
We checked the apartment for any possible loot taken in the burglaries, but we found nothing.
We put everything back exactly the way we found it, and then we left and went back to the office.
We stood by until 4 a.m. waiting for a call that had indicated that Bryson might be out on another burglary job.
Nothing happened.
The next night, up until 10 o'clock, it was the same routine.
At a few minutes past 10, we got a 459 call on a chain drugstore out on Alvarado Street.
Lee Jones had his portable ultraviolet light all ready to go.
Ben and I picked him up at the crime lab, and the three of us drove to the scene of the burglary.
It's great back here, Lee. Can I help you with the light?
I can handle it, thanks.
I had some wonder they figured you got in.
Safe stand at the corner.
Yeah, there's not too much of it left. You all set, Lee?
You got the extension cord for the light, with that on?
Yeah, right here. I'm just plugging it in.
Yeah, okay.
Okay.
All right, switch it on, will you?
Right.
Well?
Yeah.
Seems like it.
What have you got in the window there, Joe? Look at that.
Anthracene tracks all over, foot impressions there, tool marks on the safe,
blood prints on the floor, on the wall.
No question, they left plenty of trail.
All right, let's get them.
The next morning.
Lee Jones put in a call to the crime lab and ordered a photographer out to take pictures at the scene of the burglary.
Lee and the photographer had stayed at the scene to gather physical evidence
and take pictures of the anthracene prints and markings for presentation in court, 10.52 p.m.
Jones packed up the ultraviolet lamp and Ben and I took it along with us.
We drove directly to Bryson's apartment.
Nobody was there.
No, nobody in the bedroom either. How about that?
I don't know, I don't get it. Bryson's had plenty of time to get back here, over an hour.
What about his wife? The only time we know she left was when she had to go bathe him out in that traffic one.
Doesn't look like they pulled out, does it?
Is the closet full of clothes in there, a lot of their personal things around?
Yeah.
Sure looks like they were expecting to come back.
We might check with the apartment house manager.
He could tell us if they gave notice to move.
If...
Oh, let's see here.
What do you got?
A note here on the desk.
See, he says, um, Charlie, I'm sorry, but I told you it just doesn't work out with us.
When you read this, I'll be on my way east.
I don't want to be mean with you, I just think it'll work better if we forget each other, that's all.
Thanks for everything so long. Signed, Ruth.
Well, if she doesn't like him much either.
No, wait a minute.
What have you done?
Please stop this, Bryson. I'd like to talk to you for a minute.
Oh, I know who you are. I remember, what do you want?
Ben, do you want to tug him in, like?
Yeah, right over here.
Where is all this?
You said you wanted to talk to me, what's all about?
You all set, Ben?
Just a minute.
All right, okay, turn it on.
What are you doing?
What are you trying to do to me?
You've done it all to yourself, mister.
Lit up like a Christmas tree, Joe, it's all over in here.
There you go.
They're closing their hands.
What is it? There's light going all over them. What are you doing?
It's a chemical, Bryson. Harmless. Same stuff you left all over the drugstore tonight.
Pack up, Ben. Come on, let's go, Bryson.
I don't understand. What's this whole thing all about?
You'll understand it.
Here, I wrote for you.
Come on.
How's that, Joe?
Let's go, Bryson.
I guess I didn't know her.
Mr. Tramp, I guess I should have been smart about it.
Yeah, I guess so. Come on.
How could I know? She said she was in love with me. I believed it.
What am I going to say when they ask me? All our friends are all going to ask me.
They'll say, what happened to Ruth?
Oh, I'll tell you what happened this time.
What am I going to say happened this time?
What are you going to say to the jury this time?
The story you have just heard was true.
The names were changed to protect the innocent.
On December 10th, 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.
Charles Lang Bryson was tried and convicted on three counts of first-degree burglary.
This is punishable by imprisonment in the State Penitentiary for not less than five years.
However, due to his previous convictions on this and other felony counts, Bryson was judged and habitual criminal.
He was sentenced to spend the rest of his natural life in the State Penitentiary.
You have just heard Dragnet, a series of authentic cases from official clients.
The technical advice comes from the Office of Chief of Police, W.H. Parker, Los Angeles Police Department.