The story you are about to hear is true.
The names have been changed to protect the innocent.
You're a detective sergeant.
You're assigned the homicide detail.
A small boy is reported missing from his home, his age nine years.
Foul play is suspected.
Your job, find him.
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.
Was Thursday, December 22nd.
It was cold in Los Angeles.
We were working the night watch out of homicide.
My partner's Ben Ramell, the boss is Thad Brown, Chief of Detective.
My name's Friday.
I was on the way into work and it was 3.55 p.m. when I got to room 42.
Homicide.
Hi, Joe.
Ben.
Well, here's the file on the Webster case.
And brought all the file ups in there?
Yeah.
I'll get it.
Homicide Friday.
This Levenson, unit 113J.
Got something for you.
Yeah, Harry, what's doing?
Now, Dorothy and I are out here on Comis Avenue, 4656, trying to track down a nine-year-old
boy.
Yeah, what's the story?
The kid's missing, suspicion of foul play.
How long has he been gone?
About two hours.
Looks like a job for homicide.
How do you figure?
The kid was last seen playing in the backyard of his home.
Yeah?
We checked over the yard.
Did you find anything?
Blood stains, lots of them.
They looked new.
Ben and I left a message for Chief of Detective, Stad Brown.
Then we went over to the crime lab, picked up Lieutenant Lee Jones, and drove out the
Arroyo Seco freeway to Collis Avenue.
It was an average neighborhood.
Number 4656 was a one-story green stucco residence situated on the corner of Collis Avenue and
Harrison Drive.
Beyond the backyard was a tract of undeveloped land covered with scrub oak.
Harry Levinson from Highland Park Juvenile was waiting for us in front of the house.
I'll get my bag.
Who notified you that the boy was missing, Harry?
The mother.
Said she went out to do some Christmas shopping about 11 this morning.
Left the boy home.
She came back about two this afternoon.
He was gone.
What's the name?
Johnstone.
The kid's name is Stanley, nine years old.
Was this gate open like this when you got here?
Yeah, I haven't touched the thing yet.
I hear the stains over here, Lieutenant Jones, along the edge of the walk.
See?
Yeah.
Let me see.
Quite a few stains, huh?
Yeah.
Looks like it might be blood.
Ties of benzidine on them.
There we are.
See what happened.
Where's the kid's mother now, Harry?
In the house.
Dory's talking to her.
Did you talk to any of the neighbors?
People next door are the ones on this side.
They couldn't tell us anything.
There it is, fellas.
Yelly.
These spots I covered with benzidine, they're turning blue.
Blood stains all right.
Can't say definitely whether it's human or animal blood.
You have to go back to the lab to run it through.
Yeah, biological precipitant test.
Hand me one of those glass files on my bike, will you?
Yeah, sure.
Okay, here you go.
Thanks.
I'll scrape some flakes off her test.
There we are.
How soon can you tap the blood for us, Lee?
Precipitant test won't run more than 20 minutes.
It'll take three or four hours to run a blood grouping, though.
That's it.
Anything else you want to check?
Levinson?
Anything else?
Oh, yeah.
Right here in my handkerchief.
Empty show.
That marker over there by the rose bush, that's where I found it.
From a.22, huh?
Yeah.
Might tie in, might not.
Mark it and dump it in this envelope, will you?
Mm-hmm.
Here you go.
There you go.
Did you get a missing broadcast on the boy here?
I already did about a half an hour ago.
Here's a description here.
Thank you.
Does your mother know about the bloodstain?
No, we didn't tell her.
She's worried enough already.
She has no idea what might have happened to her boy, huh?
No more than we do.
She checked all her friends and relatives.
We're covering the neighborhood in a craze so far.
Not much to go on.
Bloodstain.
Empty cartridge.
Yeah, it could mean a hundred things.
Any ideas for me?
Just one, and I don't like it.
4.30 p.m. Thursday, December 22nd.
The neighborhood search for nine-year-old Stanley Johnstone continued.
Lee Jones went back to the crime lab to start the precipitant test and the blood grouping.
Levinson and his partner, Dorothy, from Highland Juvenile, stood by.
We called Chief of Detectives Thad Brown, and he ordered up a special detail to aid in
the search for the missing boy.
Ben and I questioned the boy's mother, Mrs. Ruth Johnstone, a woman in her early 40s.
She seemed fairly calm under the circumstances.
Miss Johnson, is your boy Stanley in the habit of wandering off without telling you where
he's going?
No, he's not in the habit of wandering off, but he has done it before.
Well, when was the last time Miss Johnson?
You don't have any children, do you, Sergeant Fidey?
No, they might not marry.
Well, there comes a time in every young boy's life when he feels it is time to leave home,
go out on his own.
Usually it happens somewhere around eight to ten.
I think I know what you mean.
I have a boy.
Well, then you know how it is.
My husband and I scolded Stanley one afternoon after school, and he was quite put out about
it.
But George and I were unfair.
Patrick filled his things and left.
Well, how long was he gone?
Oh, no time at all.
About two hours.
I was worried about him, but my husband said to leave him alone, but every boy had to go
through that stage.
Well, then you think that he's run away from home again this time?
Yes, I think so.
He's been gone about four hours now.
I have a funny feeling about it.
Did you and his father have some misunderstanding with the boy recently?
That's just it.
We haven't.
I don't mind telling you now that we're talking about it.
I am getting worried.
Well, is there any place around that he might like to visit, a hobby shop, a
shop that he likes?
Well, I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
Is there any place around that he might like to visit, a hobby shop, playground, some place
he might be?
Yes, there's Jensen's model shop, Little Sharon Burroughs.
But I've already called there and he hasn't been seen all day.
I've called all his friends and they have no idea who he is either.
We'd like a list of all of his friends and the places that he was known to frequent.
Yes, all right.
I'll get into it.
Where do you suppose he is?
Where's your husband now, Miss Johnson?
At work.
George works for the city.
He's a fireman.
What house is he staying at?
Engine Company 12.
He's working the A-partoon.
He'll be home tomorrow morning.
I haven't told him his family's gone.
Is there any chance the boy might be down at the firehouse with his father?
No, he seldom goes down there anymore.
Nor I don't think he's there.
I'm awfully worried.
May I call my husband?
Certainly, go ahead.
I know George will be worried.
Engine Company 12, please.
The family's been gone too long.
Hello?
May I please speak with George Johnson?
This is Mrs. Johnson.
Thank you.
I hate to call George at his work.
Yes, ma'am.
Does your husband own the gun?
Yes, he does.
What caliber do you know?
It's a.45 automatic.
You've got to knock.
George?
This is Ruth.
George, just hand me down the door.
I'm going to go get George.
Oh, no, I can't find him anywhere.
He wasn't here when I came home from doing my shopping.
There are two policemen here.
No, I said there are two policemen here.
No, dear, I'll call you if we don't find him soon.
All right, dear.
Yes, you too.
Goodbye.
I didn't think he'd be with George.
That.45, is that the only gun in the household?
Yes.
Why are you asking about guns?
Has anything happened that you're not telling me about?
No, ma'am, just routine checking.
We'll have to take a look at that.45 if you don't mind.
Maybe I should tell you we do have another gun in the house, but it's all wrapped up.
George bought it for Stanley's Christmas present.
What if we could see it, please?
Yes, well, will you have to unwrap it?
Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid so.
In the closet.
They had to hide it.
Let me see.
Well, it says the paper was wrapped in and Stanley must have found it.
It's gone.
You see, here's the gift card and the box of gun came in, the rifle.
I wonder if I could look at that box, ma'am.
Thank you.
How about it, Jim?
22 caliber.
Thursday, December 22nd, 5 15 p.m.
It was getting dark.
The search for the missing boy continued.
We checked the list of Stanley Johnstone's friends.
None of them or their parents had any idea of his whereabouts.
We talked with Levinson again.
He'd been in touch with the detail combing the neighborhood.
They'd found nothing.
We went down to Collis Avenue and 10th Street, the service station on the corner.
One neck on you.
Oh, I got it. Will you watch the fan?
Yeah.
Okay.
City Hall?
2667, please.
2667?
Crime Lab, Jones.
Hi, Ali. Joe Friday.
Yeah, Joe. Any sign of the Johnson kid?
No, not yet. How are you coming?
Finished the precipitant test. It's human blood.
Yeah?
Working on the blood group now.
You know what type the Johnson boy had?
Well, I didn't want to upset his mother.
I thought I'd wait until the last thing we're in the neighborhood.
Check with the family physician. That way you won't disturb him.
Yeah, I figured on that.
Just a minute, Lee.
Yeah?
Yeah, ma'am.
Most is pulled up.
Okay.
Thad Brown's out here now. I'll check you later, Lee, huh?
All right, Joe.
Bye-bye.
All right.
Oh, here's the way, Jim.
How's it going?
We just checked with Lee Jones.
Yeah, I know. It's human blood. What do you think?
We talked with the boy's mother, Mrs. Johnstone, found a gun missing.
Yeah?
Calibers the same as the empty casing Levenson found. It's.22.
You said the gun was missing?
Yeah, the Johnstones were going to give it to the boys as a Christmas present.
They had it hidden, but it's gone.
Any idea who took it?
Well, they left the Christmas wrapping behind. I think it was the kid.
.22 rifle. Nine-year-old boy. When is he going to learn?
First, it's carbide cannons on the Fourth of July. The city issued ordinance after ordinance.
A few thousand kids around the country had to lose their eyes, fingers, hands before their parents had given us their full cooperation to outlaw them.
I know what you mean.
Sure you do. You and every other cop in the country became the heavies trying to clamp down on them.
It's the same story. This time it's guns for Christmas.
Well, I know what you're thinking, but we're not sure yet.
Listen, Friday. There's a city ordinance against giving a gun to a kid. You know that.
Yeah, I know, man.
There's a missing boy and a missing gun. There's blood on the ground and an empty shell. That's enough for me.
You're only going to stay with it. Something's got to break.
Yeah, and I hope it's not the hearts of that kid's parents.
Hi, Chief.
Been looking for you, Friday. What do you got, Harry?
Found the gun. New.22 rifle. I'd say it's been fired recently.
Where'd you find it, Levinson?
Back up there in that scrub oak behind the Johnstone house. Mr. Johnstone identified it. Luckily he took it down the crime line.
Thanks, Harry. Is Ms. Johnstone okay?
Pretty sick now. Dirty. Came up with something else. What's that?
There's another one missing. An eight-year-old boy.
Six-thirty p.m. We talked with Officer Dougherty about the other missing boy.
He told us that his name was Stephen Morrheim, eight years old.
His family had just moved into the neighborhood. It seemed that no one besides the Morrheim family knew that the boys played together.
Mrs. Morrheim told us that Stephen told her that he was going out to play and that he'd be home by six o'clock for dinner.
She told us that he was an unusually prompt boy and almost never overstayed his playtime.
We got a description of the Morrheim boy and put out a missing broadcast.
We called the Johnstone's family doctor. He told us that Stanley's blood was type O.
At seven p.m. we talked again with Mrs. John Morrheim.
Are you sure Mrs. Johnstone doesn't know where the boys are?
She has no idea, Mrs. Morrheim.
Oh, this is terrible. Just awful.
I feel there's more to this thing. Something you're not telling me.
It doesn't always upset you until we know a few things for sure.
Then you're holding back something.
Please try not to worry, Mrs. Morrheim. There are certain things that we're going to have to ask you, routine questions, in any kind of investigation.
Is there anything else you want to know?
Yes, ma'am. What is your boy's blood type?
It's a funny question. Do you think anything's happened to him?
Have you found him and you're not telling me?
No, ma'am, we haven't found him and we don't think anything's happened to him.
His blood type?
Yes, ma'am.
I think I have it written down in Stevie's baby book.
Here it is. It's type O.
Thank you. I wonder if I might use your phone.
Yes, of course. It's in the hall.
I'll be right back then.
City Hall.
2667, please.
2667.
Grand Lab, thank you.
Hello, Ray. This is Joe Fridays. Lee there?
Just a minute, Joe.
Take two, Lee.
All right.
John speaking.
Checking back, Lee.
Did you get the blood types on the two missing boys?
Yeah, both type O.
So are the stains, Joe. Type O.
Eight p.m. Thursday, December 22nd. Still no sign of either of the missing boys.
Chief of Detective Thad Brown went back to headquarters to direct the search from there.
He dispatched another detail of 50 men to aid in the hunt for the missing youngsters.
Eight thirty p.m. was getting a little colder.
The citrus growers were warned to expect a freeze.
We went up the block to see Mrs. Johnstone.
Her husband had quit work early and returned home.
We talked with him for a while.
He could tell us nothing more than we already knew.
We still had not informed either of the families about the blood stains and the empty cartridge casing,
which had been discovered in the backyard of the Johnstone home.
It was more than possible that they had a right to know about our findings,
but Ben and I felt that there was no cause to add to the distress of the two families at this time.
If the two missing boys were found alive and well,
then the blood stains and the cartridge would be of no concern to the relieved parents.
At eight forty p.m., Ben and I left the Johnstone house and went to the home of Mr. and Mrs. John Morheim.
Mrs. Morheim, you said your husband worked in the market.
Yes, he telephoned about fifteen minutes ago, said he's closing up right away.
He'll be here any minute.
It was Steve who called, come home.
It's so cold out tonight.
All he had on was thin cotton jacket.
Well, try not to worry. We're doing everything we can. He'll be all right.
Steve's father is such a sensitive man. He and the boy are so close.
I know he's terribly upset.
Are you sure there's no place that you might have forgotten, some place where the boy might be?
No, no place. No.
If anything happens to the boy, he'll just kill John.
No. You sit still. I'll get him, Mrs. Morheim.
Joe?
Larry.
The Johnstone kid, he's been found.
He's home, Sergeant. He's come home. Thank God he's all right.
Where's he been, did he tell you?
No, no he didn't. His clothes are all dirty and he's acting strange.
I've never seen him like this.
How do you mean, Miss Johnstone?
Well, he just came to the front door and said, hello, Mom. He sat down in chairs, there at the floor, and would talk to his father and me.
Would you mind if I talk to him?
No, go ahead. I asked him about the little Morheim boy, but he wouldn't tell me a thing.
Where is he now?
Right over there in the living room.
Looks all right.
Is he in there?
Yes. Son, this is a police officer. He wants to talk to you. Don't be afraid, dear. He only wants to ask you some questions.
Son.
You see, Sergeant?
Stanley, order me, son. Come on, youngster, get your head up there. That's better.
You're rather pretty worried, you know that. You want to tell us where you've been?
We should try to get him to eat a little something.
You hear that, son? Want something to eat?
Stanley, there's another little boy up the studio who hasn't come home. You know where he is? His father and mother are worried about him, too. It's like your folks were.
We're going to ask you to help us find him.
I killed him. I killed Steve with the 22. We were only playing, but I killed him.
How do you know you killed him? Maybe he's only hurt now, isn't it?
No, he's dead. I know he's dead. The gun went off. We forgot we put bullets in there.
Where is he, Stanley?
I hit him. I was scared. I didn't want anybody to find him.
Where did you hide him, son?
In a cave up on the hill. I didn't mean it. He was my pal.
You want to show us where Stanley is?
Yes, I'll show you. Please, don't send me to jail.
Nine fifteen p.m. Thursday, December 22. Nine-year-old Stanley Johnstone led the way up the hill behind the backyard of his home.
He showed us the wagon that he moved the body in. His father came along with us.
Fifty feet from the crest of the hill, the boy pointed to a thicket of scrub oak.
There we found a small cave holding the body of Stephen Morhaime.
There was a single bullet wound in his chest just below his heart.
It was dead. We covered the body.
Stanley, how did it happen?
I knew my folks were going to give me the gun for Christmas. I knew where it was, and I got it.
There was a box of bullets with it.
Were you pointing the gun at Stevenson?
No, sir. No, sir, I wasn't. It was Steve's turn to play with it.
I was chasing him. He tipped over that stump there and he fell.
The gun hit him in the stomach and it went off.
Well, why do you think you killed him if you're telling us the truth?
I'm telling the truth? That's the truth.
Well, I believe you, son, but why do you think you killed him?
It was my gun. If Steve had still been alive, I didn't go and get it.
I should have waited till Christmas. It's all my fault.
Where have you been all this time?
In the cave of Steve.
What were you doing in there, son?
I was praying. I was praying for God to make him alive again.
After a thorough investigation, Ben and I were convinced that the shooting of Stephen Morhaime was accidental.
Lieutenant Lee Jones' findings substantiated the John Stone Boy's story even to the smallest detail.
We put in a call to the coroner's office and we acquainted him with the facts.
He designated a local mortuary to handle the body, pending autopsy, and granted us permission to remove the body to the Morhaime home.
Mrs. Morhaime collapsed. The family doctor was called.
Ben and I sat in the living room to wait for John Morhaime, the dead boy's father.
He was killed.
Edith? Edith?
Mr. Morhaime?
Yeah, Hugh the police?
Yes, sir.
Where's Edith? Where's my wife?
Did my boy come home?
Have you found him?
Yes, sir.
Where is he?
Steve?
Steve, hey?
Where's Steve?
He's hurt, isn't he?
Yes, sir, he is.
Where is he? I want to see him.
He's hurt bad, Mr. Morhaime.
Where is he? I want to see him.
How bad?
Pretty bad.
He's dead.
All right, I go in.
Yes, sir, if you want.
Will you go with me?
Don't make it any harder on yourself, Mr. Morhaime.
I want to see my boy.
Mr. Morhaime?
It wasn't to be, sir.
We got you a lot of nice things for Christmas.
Everything you wanted.
I got you the three new cars for the train.
That one with the searchlight on it really works, son.
I got you that new switch you wanted.
A lot more drink.
Oh, now you can have a big lay out.
And you know that new baseball mitt we saw?
I got it for you.
The cowboy outfit you wanted.
Mr. Morhaime.
Come on, Joe.
What happened?
It was an accident.
He was playing with a Johnstone boy up the street.
Playing with a gun.
It went off.
What was the other boy's name?
Stanley Johnstone.
Mr. Morhaime, where are you going?
I want to see that boy.
We had no idea what the dead boy's father had in mind.
We didn't feel that we should try to restrain him.
Ben and I went along with him up the street to the Johnstone home.
I'm Stevie's father.
Where's your boy?
I'm sorry.
We bought the rifle.
We were going to have time not to use it unless his father was with him.
Until he learned how to treat firearms.
Where's your boy?
Right here.
Would you come in?
It's all right with Johnstone.
You're the boy that was with Stevie?
Yes, sir.
What's your name?
Stanley.
I know it wasn't your fault, Stanley.
I wonder if you'd do something for me.
Yes, sir.
We've got a lot of nice presents for Stevie.
I know he'd want you to have them.
I want to give them to you Christmas Eve.
Mom?
I think that would be a fine idea, son.
Come on, Ben.
Well, once it all proved, you know, you don't give a kid a gun for Christmas.
The story you have just heard was true.
The names were changed to protect the innocent.
On December 24, 1948, a coroner's inquest was held in the county morgue,
city and county of Los Angeles, state of California.
In a moment, the results of that inquest.
At the coroner's inquest, it was officially recorded that Stephen
Morheim's death was the result of an accident.
Stanley Johnstone was absolved of any legal responsibility for his friend's death.
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.