The story you are about to hear is true.
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You're a detective sergeant, you're assigned a bunko detail.
An experienced confidence man has set up operations in your city.
From his first two victims, he gets more than $8,000.
You've got one good lead on the suspect, his method of operation.
Your job, get him.
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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 Tuesday, December 9th.
It was windy in Los Angeles.
We were working the day watch out of Bunko Detail.
My partner's Ed Jacobs.
The boss is Captain Steve.
My name's Friday.
I was on the way into the office and it was 7.50 a.m. when I got to room 38.
Bunko Detail.
Oh, good morning, Joe.
Hi, Charlie.
How'd you make out yesterday?
Nothing.
No luck at all, huh?
Nothing's going to help as much.
Got the same description on the guy.
Used the same name, same MOA.
Didn't get anything we don't already know about him.
How about you?
Your luck any better?
No, about the same.
Checked out the building where the suspect rented office space.
He moved out three days ago.
No forwarding address.
Checked the hotel he was supposed to be stopping at.
Didn't pan out.
Give him time.
He'll stick his neck out again.
Well, it doesn't guarantee we'll reach him.
Too late to start when the complaints come in.
We're going to have to dig up a faster way of getting to him.
Hey, you got a match?
Yeah, sure, Charlie.
Here you are.
Thanks.
You bet.
Oh, by the way, what's this I hear about your partner?
What?
Ed Jacobs, I understand you're losing him.
Oh, yeah, temporarily, anyway.
What's the deal?
Well, he's going on a loan out up at the Academy.
Going to be an instructor up there.
Two months, anyway.
Maybe more.
When does this happen?
Tomorrow, the 10th.
What are you going to do for a partner?
You and Ken going to work together?
No, the captain's bringing in a new man.
Young fella.
He's been working in the business office.
You mean the big Irish kid works the early morning?
No, no, this boy's been working days.
Name's Bill Lockwood.
I asked for him as soon as I found out I was going to lose Ed.
You know him?
A little bit, yeah.
You remember Ben Romero?
Yeah, sure.
Well, Lockwood's a nephew of Ben's.
Sister's boy.
Tall, red hair.
Oh, yeah, I've seen him around.
Seems to be a nice enough kid.
A good record, isn't he?
Well, the captain thinks so.
Figures he ought to work in pretty well.
Oh, by the way, have you seen Ben's wife lately?
Yeah, I did a couple weeks ago.
She seems to be doing all right.
Still misses Ben, of course.
Yeah, I imagine.
Her little boy's sure getting big.
Looks a lot like his dad, too.
Miss him quite a bit yourself, huh?
Yeah, Charlie, I guess I do.
Well, I better get on my horse.
I got some checking to do.
I hope the Lockwood boy works out for you.
Well, I think he'll do all right.
Can't say I'd be crazy about the idea myself.
What do you mean?
Breaking in a new man.
No detective experience.
When I go out to pick up a thief, I like to figure I've got some good backing.
I mean, a partner I'm used to.
Tough enough watching out for yourself, let alone a green youngster.
Well, somebody had to do it for us.
That's the way it goes.
Yeah, I suppose.
I remember when I first started, it didn't come much greener than me.
Partner did all the work, took all the chances, helped me every foot of the way.
He never mentioned it once.
I never forgot that.
He's a good cop.
What was his name?
Ben Romero.
In our particular set up, before a man's eligible to apply for duty in the detective bureau,
he has to have a minimum of five years' experience as a police officer, either assigned to radio
patrol, traffic duty, or some other general assignment.
After the initial five years of service, the men go through a screening process to determine
which department and which job they'll fit into best, some position that they seem to
show a natural aptitude for.
If a man applies for duty in a division of the detective bureau, and if he's accepted,
he's assigned a partner to work with the day he goes on the job, generally a working detective
with some experience.
In the case of Ben's nephew, Bill Lockwood, he put in his first five years working Wilshire
traffic and also doing radio patrol in Hollenbeck and 77th Street divisions.
After spending another 11 months in our business office, Captain Steed put in a request for
him, and he was transferred.
When I heard Ed Jacobs was going to be loaned to the police academy as an instructor, I
talked to Captain Steed about Lockwood, and he assigned him as my new partner.
The changeover happened in the middle of one of the toughest investigations we'd had in
months, a bunko artist who was working hard at the business opportunities racket.
The following morning, December 10th, Bill Lockwood reported in for work, and we drove
out to check a potential lead on the suspect.
On the way, I laid out the case for him.
Nothing on the men in R&I, huh?
No record at all?
No, not as far as we know, Bill.
Checked Brereton up at Sacramento, CII.
Nothing doing there.
He couldn't help us.
What have you been going on?
His description?
Yeah, that and his M.O. and his name.
He uses a different alias on each job.
Russell Preston.
That was the last name he used.
I see.
He usually starts by putting a want ad in the paper, is that it?
Well, he rents himself an office first, usually pretty expensive when well furnished.
Then he hires a good-looking secretary, has her put a want ad in the daily papers for
him, and he's in business.
How do the ads read?
The usual?
Yeah, typical thing you see in the daily paper.
Business opportunity for people with vision, good investment, high profit supply now, you
know.
Then he gives his address and phone number.
There's nothing clever about it, but people still go for it.
He give them any replies, do you know?
Well, we figure he got between 20 and 30 on that last deal he pulled.
Seems all he has to do is land one victim out of the bunch with enough money, and he's
got it made.
He took his first victim here for 5,000, second one for 3,200, both elderly women.
Took them for their last dollar.
About the way he sets up the deal with these different businessmen, Joe, I don't think
I got it quite straight.
Well, how do you mean?
Well, say the owner of that manufacturing plant that Russell Preston lined up.
Yeah.
You say Preston went to the plant, introduced himself as a business advisor, told the owner
of the plant he had some people with money to invest.
He convinced the owner it was legitimate.
Yeah, that's right.
And Preston had his two victims shown through the plant and convinced them they ought to
invest their money in the business.
Yeah, that's it.
Do you mean to say the plant owners were acting in good faith?
Well, they were all checked out, Bill.
Everything about them.
They all have good business reputations.
They didn't know any more about the deal and the victims.
They needed more capital for their business, and they figured this was it.
This Preston or whatever his name is sure must have a line that won't stop.
He's got everything that goes with it.
Nice clothes, well-mannered, good-looking.
He doesn't try to high-pressure anybody.
Tells them if they have confidence in him, he'd be glad to invest their money.
If they hedge it all, he shows them right through the office.
Pretty good pitch.
Prices sold on him, he's got them over a barrel.
It's about the size of it, yeah.
Funny, there's no record on him.
Sure sounds like he's had a lot of experience.
What are the other names he's used, you remember?
Well, just two of them we know of.
Russell R. Preston and George A. Fairchild.
I guess the newspapers have been checked out, huh?
The ones he ran the what-ands in?
Yeah, they've all been talked to.
All their personnel have been notified to watch for ads of that type.
It'd be one way to get a lead on him if he tries again.
What about the buildings where he rented office space?
Couldn't the people there help any?
Well, they confirmed his description.
They picked up samples of his handwriting, that's about it.
He only rented the offices long enough to cover his deal, about two weeks.
Let's see, what hundred block is this, Bill? Can you see over there?
Let's see, yeah, 1700.
Well, we want the next one, 1811.
Who's this woman we're gonna talk to?
Vivian Castle, is that right?
Yeah, I'm not sure if she's the right girl or not.
Got the lead from an employment agency.
Chances she might be the girl Preston hired to be his secretary, I don't know.
Well, good parking place up there ahead, huh?
Yeah, that's good. You can pull up anywhere along here.
That's fine.
Two doors down, Joe. Real estate office, 1811.
Yeah, I see it.
Good morning.
Good morning.
Can I help you?
Police officers, ma'am, we'd like to talk to a Miss Castle, Vivian Castle.
Oh, I'm Vivian Castle.
Here's our identification. This is my partner, Officer Lockwood. My name's Friday.
How do you do?
What is it you want, officers?
We'd like to find out if you know a George Fairchild, ma'am.
Fairchild? No, I don't know anyone by that name.
How about a Russell Preston, Miss? Does that mean anything to you?
I used to work for Mr. Preston, Russell Preston.
About how long ago was that?
A month, month and a half ago.
Where does he have his offices?
He did have them on South Grand near Eighth, the old Belmont Harris building. Why?
Would you mind describing Mr. Preston for us, ma'am? Just a general description of him.
He was about 40, 45 years old, brown hair, a little gray.
Nice build. Seemed to be a very nice man at first. Always dressed so nice.
He's wore a dark blue suit. Seemed to be very nice.
Checks out so far, Joe.
Would you mind telling me what it's about?
We'd like to locate Mr. Preston, ma'am. You any idea where he is now?
I wish I did. I'd call the State Labor Commission.
He seemed like such a nice man. I've never been so disappointed in my life.
How do you mean, Miss Castle?
He owes me two weeks' pay, $65 a week.
Hired me as a private secretary.
Good jobs aren't hard to get now, either. He can't say he was giving me a break when he hired me.
Are you from the Labor Commission? No, ma'am, we're not.
Could you tell us how long you worked for this Mr. Preston?
Just three weeks. He said I was going to get paid every Friday.
Gave me the money for the first week, and that's all.
Kept waiting for my pay, but he kept putting me off.
Last week and a half, he didn't even show up at the office. I was there all alone eight hours a day.
Apparently, the building manager showed up and told me it was all over. Mr. Preston closed the office.
Didn't even have the decency to come in and say thank you, goodbye.
I just left.
And you have no idea at all where Mr. Preston is now?
No, sir, I wish I did.
Were there any office files, mail files, any way to get a possible line on him?
Not as far as I know. I didn't keep any files for him.
Matter of fact, I didn't do any work at all. Just a showpiece, I guess that's all he kept me there for.
There's no reason why he shouldn't pay me, though.
Are you sure you're not from the Labor Commission?
Did Mr. Preston ever have you place any want ads in the daily papers, Miss Castle?
Yeah, he did a couple of times. Ads for business opportunities, you know.
He was in the investment business, helped people invest their money.
Would you happen to know anyone who invested money with him? I mean, would you know them by name?
No, not by name. Quite a few people came through the office.
I know a few of them made deals with Mr. Preston. I wouldn't remember their names, though.
And you don't know any friends he might have had in town? Any of his business associates?
No, sir, not a one. I didn't know he had any associates.
How about where he was staying, Miss Castle? You must have known that.
Yeah, the first week I was there, I did. It was the only week I got paid for.
He was staying at a small hotel on South Flower.
I moved the next week, though. I don't know where he went after that.
Neither does the hotel. I asked them.
Well, during the time you worked for him, ma'am, did you ever have anything to do with Mr. Preston socially?
I mean, was it part of your job to go out to dinner with him, things like that?
I did once or twice when he asked me. I didn't think it was part of my job, though.
Mr. Preston didn't mention it either. Once we went out to dinner, just the two of us.
Another time we went out with my girlfriend, Norma. I had a terrible time. Mr. Preston was awful.
And how do you mean, Miss?
Well, he drank too much and was throwing his weight around, you know, the boss.
And he kept making a play for my girlfriend, Norma. I think he liked her quite a bit.
Sure was embarrassing, though.
Look, would you mind telling me what's the matter? Is Mr. Preston in trouble with the police?
Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid so. He's cheated some people out of quite a bit of money. It's not the first time, either.
Well, what was it? What'd he do?
Confidence gain. Selling interest in the company he had no connection with.
That isn't the limit. I guess it's my own fault. I should have known better. It's happened before.
Ma'am?
They hire you. They give you a beautiful office, nice, soft chair to sit on. They never give you any work to do.
You don't have to lift a finger. I finally got the drift.
Yeah.
Those are the kind you have to watch out for.
Bill Lockwood and I continued questioning the former secretary of Russell Preston, alias George Fairchild,
but she was unable to come up with any kind of a definite lead as to the suspect's whereabouts.
We left our card with the girl, and she promised to contact us in the event she came across any information regarding Preston.
For the rest of the day, we ran down three more possible leads.
They came from an informant, a head waiter in a second-rate nightclub, a small-time grifter with an axe to grind.
And they all figured they had the right answer, where to find Preston.
We checked out the three locations they gave us, a motel out near Santa Monica, a roaming house in Hollywood, a cocktail lounge in Highland Park.
Not one of the three paid off. Russell Preston, alias George Fairchild, wasn't known at any of the places, either by name, dress, or physical description.
During the next three weeks, along with Sergeants Charlie Riblet and Ken Scarce of Bunko Detail,
Bill Lockwood and I ran down every possible lead on the suspect.
Hotels, the Wanda Head Departments of the Daily Papers, managers of downtown office buildings,
secretarial employment agencies, small businesses advertising stock for sale.
They got us nothing. Despite all the precautions and all the legwork, on January 6th, we got a call from a Mrs. Marie Barrett in the Westlake Park area.
She owned and managed a toy shop just off Wilshire Boulevard.
Bill Lockwood and I drove out to talk to her.
Yes, and they told me it was the opportunity of a lifetime, a big opportunity.
Just can't believe it. Can't understand it. Why even took me out and showed me the factory?
Even the man around the place, they're making plastics. Showed me the whole plant.
You say the plant was out in Glendale now. Whereabouts?
It was right along San Fernando Road, maybe a mile or two before you get to the airport.
They showed me through the whole plant.
Who showed you through, Mrs. Barrett?
Owner of the place in this, Mr. Fairchild. Big place, making plastics of all kinds. Can't say I wasn't impressed.
What was Mr. Fairchild's first name? Do you remember?
George. George Fairchild and Associates. That was the name of the door to the office when I went up to see him.
Of course, I really didn't have a notion of investing any money when I first went up.
It was a newspaper, as you know, and I answer lots of kind of a hobby with me.
Yes, ma'am.
So I went up to see him and we talked. And as I say, I wasn't thinking of investing any money,
but Mr. Fairchild seemed like such a nice man. Seemed to have a good business head on his shoulders.
Well, ended up with me putting my whole savings account into the plastics plant.
Six thousand four hundred dollars, every penny of it. I haven't heard from Mr. Fairchild since.
I just don't know what to think. I can't understand it.
Do you have any idea where to contact this Fairchild now? Any address, telephone number?
Well, I called his office. It's in the Oxford Exchange Building.
There's no answer, though. They say it's disconnected. I've been trying for a week to contact Mr. Fairchild.
I mean, six thousand four hundred dollars. I just don't know what to do. It's all my savings. I don't know what to do.
Oh, excuse me, please. Customer. I can't afford to miss a sale now.
Yes, ma'am. You go right ahead.
Alan, will you help this lady, please?
Looks like he's scored again, huh?
I wouldn't doubt it. She seems to do a fair business here, huh? I mean, after Christmas and all.
Yeah, I suppose. Of course, the women go for it. You hang up a sale sign, you can't beat them off with a club.
That's right.
See this gadget here? Pretty clever, huh?
Yeah. Miniature Sherman tank. What's it do?
Watch.
Yeah, well, how about that?
Pretty cute, isn't it? Cannon's on the side, sparks coming out.
My nephew got one for Christmas. Got a lot of power. Treads will climb over just about anything.
Uh-huh.
Sorry to keep you waiting, officers. Customers have to be attentive to you.
Surely we understand. Now, about this money you gave Fairchild and Ms. Barrett, the sixty four hundred dollars, how'd you work that?
I mean, did you give them a check or how'd you do it?
Yes, I gave them a check. It was cash the same day I gave it to them. I found that out from the bank.
What was it you were supposed to get for your money, ma'am?
Interest in the plastics company. One fifth interest. Seemed like such a good idea at the time.
Did you ever discuss the deal with the owners of the plastics company? I mean, when Mr. Fairchild wasn't around?
No, I guess I never did. Mr. Fairchild didn't think it was a good idea.
Said he wanted me to get the most from my money. Said he was afraid if the company owners talked to me alone, they might argue me into taking less profit.
Didn't want me to talk to him at all if he was into round.
And you weren't suspicious of him at all, huh?
Mr. Fairchild? No. Very nice man.
There are a few things he did that made me a little uncertain, but he always explained everything to me. He always had a good reason for everything he did.
Nice man, clean cut, well dressed, beautiful manners. Never taken for anything but a gentleman. You'll see what I mean.
Where do you meet him? Yes, ma'am. Just a perfect gentleman. I don't know what to think. I can't call him a crook. He just isn't that kind.
Well, he took your money, Ms. Barry. Yes. What else would you call him?
Two eighteen p.m. When we got through interviewing the latest victim, Marie Barrett,
Bill Lockwood and I drove out to the plastics company on San Fernando Road where we talked to the owner and manager.
The story was pretty much the same. The suspect, using the name of George Fairchild, had called on them three weeks before, introducing himself as an investment counselor.
He told them he had clients with money to invest in a growing industry such as theirs, and they went for the story.
They told us Fairchild had come back two or three times with different persons whom he introduced as his clients.
They'd been shown through the plastics plant and given a sales talk. That's about all the company owners could tell us.
When we got back to the office, we checked their names through the regular business channels and found out they were reputable businessmen.
It was nothing to indicate that they had anything to do with the suspect's bunko operations.
Four thirty p.m.
Hey, Joe. Yeah, Bill. The girl out here to see us, the one who used to be Preston's secretary, Vivian Castle. Oh, yeah.
Did she say what she wanted? No. Seems a little anxious. Officer, I'm glad I found you in. How are you, Miss Castle?
I'm all right. I was going to phone you, but I couldn't remember your number. Lost the card you gave me, so I decided to come down.
You remember talking to me, don't you, about Mr. Preston, my old boss? Yes, ma'am. Have you heard from him?
Well, no, I haven't. But you remember me telling you about my girlfriend, Norma? Mm-hmm.
I mean, the time Mr. Preston took me out, Norma and her boyfriend were with us. Yes, ma'am.
And the way Mr. Preston kept making a play for Norma.
Well, I saw Norma at lunchtime today, first time in weeks. Mm-hmm.
She told me she got a call from Mr. Preston. I told her I'd tell you all about it. She's got a date with him. When?
Dinner Friday night.
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Wednesday, January 6th, 4.50 p.m. We called Vivian Castle's girlfriend Norma Cummings and then we drove out to talk to her.
The Cummings girl told us that Russell Preston had telephoned that morning and made the date with her for Friday night at 7.30.
He said they were to have dinner at a nightclub out in the Wilshire district.
He also mentioned to her that he was staying in a hotel but she didn't know the name of the location.
We made arrangements for a stakeout at Norma Cummings' apartment.
The girl agreed to cooperate with us.
Thursday, January 7th, we checked with the personnel at the different restaurants, bars and nightclubs which Preston and the Cummings girl were to visit.
Some of them remembered Preston but as far as they knew he hadn't been back.
We left our cards with each one of them and we asked them to contact us if he should return.
Just after lunch on Friday, we got a phone call from Norma Cummings.
When was that, Miss?
Uh-huh.
Did you find out where he was?
I see.
Will you be there for the rest of the day?
No, I'm fine. Yeah, we'll call you back. Goodbye.
Yeah?
Cummings girl. She's at work.
She just had a phone call from Preston. She tried to find out where he was. No go.
What did he have to say?
That dinner date he had with her tonight.
Yeah.
He called it off.
Later that afternoon, we went out and talked to the Cummings girl.
She told us Preston explained on the phone that he had to cancel the date that night because of some business deal that had come up.
He told her he'd get in touch with her over the weekend. He didn't.
By Thursday of the following week, she still hadn't heard from him.
Two days later, on a Saturday afternoon, we got a call from one of the cocktail lounges Preston had visited.
The bartender remembered us being in there to inquire about the suspect and he'd saved our card.
He said Preston was there now with another man drinking at the bar.
We asked the bartender to try and delay the suspect as long as possible.
Then we got in the car and drove to the location.
It was too late. The bartender explained that he tried to delay the man that he thought was Preston, but he didn't have much luck.
The suspect had left a few minutes after the bartender had called us.
He'd been drinking heavily.
The man Preston had been with was still there.
He was sitting at an old upright piano in the back of the place trying to pick out a tune with one finger.
Bill and I went back and talked to him.
He gave his name as Fred Sandel.
Yeah, that's right. I was drinking with a fellow. Why?
What's the matter, Allison?
Have you ever seen a man before?
Yeah, once or twice.
In here?
No, no. The place up the street. 780 Club. I had a couple of drinks with him in there.
You know his name?
Well, what's the angle? You want him for something?
It's just a routine check. We'd like to talk to him.
Well, I don't know. I might know his name.
Yeah.
Well, what's the angle on the thing? You want him for something big?
We want to talk to him. That's all.
Did he pull eyes? Something like that? Hey, he didn't look like that kind of guy.
Blowsy thing. I never could have got that right.
How about it? You say you might know the man's name. What was it?
Well, I don't know. I'm not sure if I'm the one to not tell you.
How do you mean?
Well, I don't want to get anybody in trouble. I want to give out names.
What's the angle on him? You want him for something big?
It's big enough, yeah.
Oh. Well, his name's Preston, I think. That's the name he gave me, anyway.
I see him around bars in the neighborhood every once in a while.
How much do you know about him?
Oh, not much. I had a few drinks with him now and then.
Talked a little bit. That's about all.
What did you say your name was?
Sandel. Fred Sandel. What's the angle on this Preston?
We want to get in touch with him. You know where he lives?
I don't know. I might. I... You want him for something big, isn't that right?
Well, what's the difference? We want him.
Well, there could be a lot of difference. I... I mean, what's the angle?
If it's important to you and I helped you, you'd probably want to do the right thing, huh?
I don't know if I got you right.
Well, I mean, if you really want the guy, you know...
If it's important to you and I helped you reach him,
you'd want to make it square with me, wouldn't you? Huh?
And not that I'm asking for payoff. You understand that.
Yeah, we understand. Where's Preston live?
Well, I didn't say I knew where the guy lives. I didn't say that.
Do you know where he lives?
Well, I'm not sure. I might. I don't know if I'll tell you, though. I don't...
Why don't you want to stand by here, Bill? I better check in.
Yeah, fine. Okay.
Open the door!
Hush.
Hush.
Two six two five record.
Yeah John this is Joe Friday bunko like to check on a suspect John he gives the name
of Fred Sandel he's a WMA about forty five five foot ten hundred and seventy pounds Brown
Brown eyes, ruddy complexion, small scar just below the left ear.
Okay. Want me to call you back on that?
Yeah, would you please? I'm at Dunkirk 35016.
Right, I'll call you.
Thanks. Oh, say, John, could you switch me over to Bunko, please?
I'm calling from outside.
Yeah, sure. Hang on.
Thank you.
Yes?
Would you switch this call over to Bunko Detail, please?
Bunko Detail, surely.
Bunko, Ripley.
Joe Friday, Charlie. Anything doing?
Oh, yeah, Joe, quite a bit. That suspect, he's...
your suspect, he was Russell Preston?
Mm-hmm.
He's been picked up.
Yeah? Well, how'd that happen?
A radio car victim, Albathan South Grand,
drunk charge, I understand.
He was pretty well plastered,
wandering around the middle of the street.
Had quite a bit of money on him,
and brought him into robbery for questioning.
Are you sure he's Preston?
Yeah, description checks,
couple of sets of identification on him, too.
One for Russell Preston, one for George Fairchild.
Where they got him now?
Next door, interrogation room.
Ken Skirs is talking to him.
He's copying out into the jobs he pulled.
Okay, Charlie, thanks a lot. We'll be right in.
Right, Joe.
Bill, see you a minute.
Yeah.
You might as well check in.
Preston's been picked up.
Hmm? When?
Probably just after you left this bar.
Radio car spotted him, pulled him in.
How about that?
Yeah.
You worked two months on a case,
and just when we start to get close,
somebody else picks the guy up.
Yeah, that's right.
It's not very exciting, is it?
You know, I was just thinking, officers,
I don't want to be a hard head about this thing, you know.
I mean, if you want this guy Preston,
I'd be glad to help you find him.
I don't want to be a hard head.
Excuse me a minute.
Yeah?
John Hunter, Friday Record Bureau.
Oh, yeah, John.
I got a make on that name you asked for, Fred Sandel.
There's a warrant on him.
Glenn Theft Auto, got a pretty long record.
You want me to read it off?
No, that's all right, John.
Right. Bye.
Right, thank you.
What do you say, Sergeant?
Suppose we sit down and have a drink and talk things over,
and I'll show you where I think this Preston hangs out.
I mean, if we make the right deal, hmm?
Well, it's already been made.
You want to grab your top coat there?
We'd like to talk to you downtown.
Me? What for?
What are you talking about?
Glenn Theft Auto.
They want you, mister.
Well, wait a minute.
You made a mistake.
You didn't come in here looking for me.
You're not even the side of my case.
This ain't fair.
Get your coat. Let's go.
Well, but this ain't fair.
You come in here looking for Preston.
You didn't want me.
We do now.
Well, what kind of a deal do you call that?
You're looking for Preston.
You picked me up.
What's the angle?
There's no angle.
Some days you got to settle for less, that's all.
Come on. Let's go.
The story you have just heard was true.
The names were changed to protect the innocent.
On April 5th, 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, George Feneman.
Friends, I sincerely hope you'll remember tomorrow
what we've told you about Fatima tonight.
You remember we said that Fatima is the best
of all king-size cigarettes.
Well, we'd like you to try a pack
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I know you'll like them.
Music
You are eligible by imprisonment for not less
than one, nor more than ten years.
Music
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.
Technical advisors, Captain Jack Donahoe,
Sergeant Marty Wynn, Sergeant Vance Brasher.
Heard tonight were Martin Milner,
Marion Richmond, Vic Rodman.
Script by Jim Mosey.
Music by Walter Schuman.
Hal Gibney speaking.
Music
Fatima cigarettes, best of all
king-size cigarettes,
has brought you Dragnet, transcribed
from Los Angeles.
Music
Now it's Counterspy on NBC.