Brings you drag, man.
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 to homicide details.
A small boy is reported missing from his home. His age, nine years.
Howe play is suspected. Your job, find him.
Dragman, 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 to an actual case transcribed from official police violence.
From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Dragnet is the story of your police force in action.
It was Thursday, December 22nd. It was cold in Los Angeles.
We were working the night watch out of Homicide Division.
My partner is Frank Smith, the boss is Fab Brown, two detectives.
My name is Fred.
I was on the way into work and it was 3.55 p.m. when I got to room 42.
Homicide.
Hi John.
Frank.
What's going?
Oh nothing, pretty quiet.
How's your mother?
Oh, her cold is still hanging on. Bad cough. Doctor has never treated her.
My kid's got the same thing. Must be some kind of a virus going around.
Yeah, maybe so.
Did you get all the reports on that Webster case yet?
Yeah.
Yeah, I'll take care of it.
I'll get it.
Homicide Friday.
This is Levinson, unit 11J1. Got something for you.
Yeah, I got everything.
Darnie and I are out here on Hollis Avenue, 4656, during the track down of 9 year old boy.
What's the story?
Kid's missing, suspicion of foul play.
Yeah, how long has he been gone?
About two hours, looks like a job for homicide.
How do you figure?
A kid was last seen playing in the backyard of his home.
Yeah?
He was checked over the yard.
Did you find anything?
Blood stains, lots of
They look new.
Frank and I left the message for Chief of Detectives Fab Brown.
Then we went over to the crime lab, picked up Ray Pinker and drove out the Arroyo Sequel freeway to Hollis Avenue.
It was an average neighborhood.
Number 4656 was a one story green stucco residence situated on the corner of Hollis Avenue and Harrison Drive.
Beyond the backyard was a tract of undeveloped land, covered with scrub oaks.
Harry Levinson from Highland Park Juvenile was waiting for us in front of the house.
Back this way, fellas.
You coming, Ray?
I got my bag.
Who notified you the boy was missing, Harry?
My mother said she went down to do some Christmas shopping.
About 11 this morning, left the boy home.
Came back about two this afternoon, he was gone.
What's the name?
Johnstone.
The kid's name is Stanley, nine years old.
The gate opened like this when you got here?
Yeah, we haven't touched a thing.
There's a stain over here, Mr. Pinker, along the edge of the walk there, you see?
Yeah, I see.
Quite a few stains, huh?
Looks like it might be blood.
Try some benzidine on him.
There we are.
See what happened.
Where's the kid's mother now, Harry?
She's in the house, Dorothy's talking to her.
She talking to any of the neighbors?
Yeah, the people next door, the ones on this side.
They couldn't tell us anything.
How'd it go, fellas?
Yeah, Harry?
These spots, I covered a benzidine, they're turning blue.
Blood stains are.
Can't say for sure whether it's human or animal.
You have to go back to the lab to look through?
Yeah, my lab's got a precipitant test.
Anyone have a glass of vial in my bag, will you?
One of these?
Mm-hmm.
Here you are.
Thanks.
Take some of these flakes off the test.
There we are.
How soon can you type the blood for us, Ray?
The precipitant test won't run more than 20 minutes.
It'll take three, four hours for any blood grouping, though.
That's it.
Anything else you want to check?
Let me see, anything else?
Yeah, right here under this tin can.
Anti-shell.
22, huh?
Yeah, it might die, it might not.
Mark it and dump it in the sand well, will you?
Sure.
There you go.
You got a missing blood catheter, little boy, Harry?
Yeah, Dorothy did, about half an hour ago.
Here's a description right here.
Thanks.
Mother know about the blood stains?
No, we didn't tell her.
She's weighed enough already.
She has no idea what might have happened to her, boy, huh?
No more than we do.
Checked all the friends, relatives.
We're covering the neighborhood.
No trace so far.
Not much to go on.
Blood stains, empty cartridge.
That could mean a hundred things.
Any ideas, Freddy?
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.
Ray Pinker went back to the crime lab to start the precipitant test and the blood grouping.
Levenson and his partner, Dorothy, from Highland Juvenile, stood by.
We called Chief Detective Thad Brown, and he ordered up a special detail to aid in the search for the missing boy.
Frank and I questioned the boy's mother, Mrs. Ruth Johnstone, a woman in her early forties.
She seemed fairly calm under the circumstances.
Mr. Johnstone, 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.
When was the last time, Miss Johnstone?
You don't have any children, do you, Sergeant Friday?
No, ma'am.
Well, there comes that time in every young boy's life when he feels that it's time to leave home, go out on his own.
Usually happens somewhere around eight to ten.
Yes, ma'am. I think I know what you mean. I'm 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, packed a few of his things and left.
How long was he gone, ma'am?
No time at all, about two hours.
I was worried about him, but my husband said to leave him alone.
Said every boy had to go through that stage.
Well, then you think he's gone away from home again this time, do you?
Yes, I think so. He's been gone about four hours now.
I have a funny feeling about it.
Did you and his father happen to 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'm getting worried.
Any place around that you might like to visit, a hobby shop or a playground, something like that, where you might be?
Yes, there's Jensen's model shop, Little Helen Woods, but I've already called there and he hasn't been seen all day.
I called all of his friends and they have no idea either.
We'd like a list of all of his friends and the places that he was known to frequent, ma'am.
Yes, all right. I'll give them to you.
Where do you suppose he is?
Where's your husband now, Mrs. Downstown?
At work. George works for the city. He's a fireman.
Uh-huh. What house is he stationed at?
Engine Company 12. He's working the A platoon. He'll be home tomorrow morning.
I haven't told him that Stanley's gone.
Was there any chance that the boy might be down at the firehouse with his father?
No. He's telling them he's down there anymore. No, I don't think he's there.
I'm awfully worried. May I call my husband?
Yes, certainly. You go right ahead.
I know George will be worried. Stanley's been gone too long.
Hello. May I speak with George Downstown? This is Mrs. Downstown. Thank you.
I hate to call George at his work.
That's all right. Does your husband own the gunman?
Yes, he does.
What caliber would you know?
The 45 automatic. He's got it in the... George? Well, this is Ruth.
George, is Stanley down there with you by any chance?
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. Yes, you too. Bye.
I didn't think he'd be with George.
Oh, that 45, is that the only gun in the house, home?
Yes. Why are you asking about guns? Is anything happening 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.
Lady, 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.
Would you look at it, please?
Yes, will you have to unwrap it?
I'll do it myself.
I think I can reach it. We had to hide it, let me see.
Well, here's the paper it was wrapped in.
It sounded like a found at the store. You see, here's the gift card and the box the gun came in.
Rifle.
Uh-huh. Could I look at the box, ma'am?
Thank you.
How about it, John?
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 this 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 Hollis Avenue and 10th Street. Service station on the corner.
You want a dime, John?
No, I got one. You watch the chief's browner.
There you go.
2667, please.
2667.
Graham Labticker.
Hi, Ray. Joe Friday.
Yeah, Joe. Any sign of Johnstone, kid?
No, not yet. How are you coming?
Nice to see you.
Nice to see you.
We're not a blood group, now.
You know what type the Johnstone boy had?
Well, he didn't want to upset his mother.
He thought I'd wiggled the last thing in the neighborhood.
Check with the family physician. That way you won't disturb her.
Yeah, we figured on that.
Take a minute, Ray.
I'll be out, Ray.
The box is full.
I'll be right out.
Ray, it's half-bound out here now. Check you later, huh?
Right, Joe.
I'll be right out.
Gentlemen, how's it going?
I just checked with Ray Pinker.
Yeah, I know. It's human blood. What do you think?
We talked with the boy's mother, Mrs. Johnstone.
Sounded a gun missing.
Yep.
Caliber's the same as the empty case in Levenson's, found 22.
You said the gun was missing.
Yeah, the Johnstones are going to give it to the boy's Christmas present.
My head is hidden, but it's gone now.
Any idea who took it?
Well, over at work, they left the Christmas wrapping behind. I think they did it with the kid.
22 riflemen, nine-year-old boy. When are they going to learn?
First, it's carbide cannons on the Fourth of July.
The city issued ordnance after ordnance, but a few thousand kids around the country had to lose their eyes, fingers, hands,
before the parents could give 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.
That was the same story. This time it's guns for Christmas.
Oh, no, it's your thing, you thief, but we're not sure yet.
Listen, Friday, there's a city ordnance against giving a gun to a kid. Now you know that.
Yeah, I know that.
There's a missing boy and a missing gun. There's blood on the ground and an empty shell. That's enough for me.
We're going to stay where it is, Chief. Something's got to break.
Yeah, I hope it's not the house or that kid's parents.
Hi, Chief. Have a good look before you Friday.
Dale, what have you got here?
Found a gun, a new 22 rifle. I'd say it's been fired recently.
Where did you find it, Levinson?
Back up there in that scrub oak behind the Johnstone house. Mrs. Johnstone identified it.
Probably took it down to crime lab.
Thanks, Harry. Is Miss Johnstone okay?
She's pretty sick now.
Tell me you came up with something else.
What's that?
That's another one missing, an eight-year-old boy.
Six thirty p.m. We talked with Officer Killaby about the other missing boy.
He told us that his name was Stephen Martin, eight years old. His family had just moved into the neighborhood.
It seemed that no one besides the Martin family knew that the boys played together.
Mrs. Martin told us that Stephen told her that he was going out to play and 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 Martin boy and put out a missing broadcast.
We called the Johnstone family doctor. He told us that Stanley's blood was typo.
At seven p.m. we talked again with Mrs. John Martin.
Are you sure Mrs. Johnson doesn't know where the boys are?
She has no idea, Mrs. Martin.
Oh, this is terrible. Just awful. I feel there's more to this thing, something you're not telling me.
There's no use to upset you until we know a few more things for sure, ma'am.
Then you are holding something back.
Well, please try not to worry, Mrs. Martin. There are certain questions we have to ask, routine questions, and any kind of investigation.
Is there anything else you want to know?
Yes, ma'am. What's your boy's blood type?
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, huh?
Yes, ma'am.
Well, I think I have it written down in Stevie's baby book.
Yes, yes, here it is. The card is old.
Typo, thank you. I wonder if I can use your phone.
Oh, yes, of course. It's in the hall.
Be right back, Frank. Yeah.
Hello?
2667, please.
2667.
Greenlight finger.
Hi, Ray. It's Friday.
Yeah, did you get the blood types on the two missing boys?
Yeah, both Typo.
So were the stains, Joe. Typo.
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8 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 hunts of the missing youngsters.
8.30 p.m. It was getting colder. The citrus growers were warned to expect a freeze.
We went back up the block to see Mrs. Johnstone.
Her husband had quit work early and returned home. We talked with him.
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 Frank and I felt there was no cause to add to their distress at this particular 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 released parents.
At 8.40 p.m., Frank and I left the Johnstone house and went to the home of Mr. and Mrs. John Martin.
Mrs. Martin, you said your husband worked at the market.
Yes. He telephoned about 15 minutes ago and said he was closing up right away.
He'd be here any minute.
I do wish Stevie would call or come home.
It's so cold out tonight. All he had on was a thin cotton jacket.
Try not to worry. We're doing everything we can. You'll be all right.
I don't know why his father's such a sensitive man.
And the boy was so close. I know he's terribly upset.
Yes, ma'am. Are you sure there's no place you might have forgotten?
Someplace where the boy might be?
No. No place. No. If anything's happened to the boy, it'll just kill John.
Mrs. Martin.
This is the door. I'll get it.
Thank you.
Joe?
Yeah, Harry?
Yes, ma'am.
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. He's acting strange. I've never seen him like this.
How do you mean, Mrs. Johnston?
He just came in the front door and said, hello, Mom, and then he sat down in a chair and stared at the floor.
He talked to his father and me.
Mind if I talk to him?
No, go ahead. I asked him about the little Martin boy. He wouldn't tell me a thing.
Where is he now?
Right over there in the living room.
Oh, yeah.
Looks all right.
Yeah.
Son. 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?
Yes, ma'am. Stanley?
Come on, boy, look at me. Come on, now, get your head up.
That's better. You had your mother pretty worried, you know that.
You want to tell us where you've been?
I wish I could try to get him to eat a little something.
You hear that, son? You want something to eat?
Stanley, there's another little boy up the street who hasn't come home.
You know where he is?
His father and mother are worried about him, too, just like your folks were.
You've got to help us find him, son.
I killed him. I killed Steve with the 22. We were only 20, but I killed him.
How do you know you killed him? Maybe he's only hurting his eyes, ma'am.
No, no, he's dead. I know he's dead. The gun went off. We forgot we put bullets in it.
Where is he, Stanley?
He 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.
Do you want to show us where, Stanley?
Yes, sir. I'll show you. Please don't send me to jail.
9.15 p.m. Thursday, December 22nd. Nine-year-old Stanley Johnstone led the way up the hill behind the backyard of his home.
He showed us the wagon he'd moved the body in. His father came along with us.
About 50 feet from the crest of the hill, a boy pointed to a thicket of scrub oats.
There we found a small cave holding the body of Stephen Martin.
There was a single bullet wound in his chest just below his heart. He was dead.
He covered the body.
Stanley, how did it happen?
I knew my folks were going to give me a bone for Christmas. I knew where it was and I got it.
There was a box of bolts with it.
Were you pointing the gun at Stephen, son?
No, sir. No, sir, I wasn't. It was Stephen's turn to play with it.
I was chasing him. He tripped over that stump and he fell. The gun hit him in the stomach and it went off.
Now why do you think you killed him if you're telling us the truth here?
Honest, it's the truth.
All right, I believe you, son. Why do you think you killed him?
My gun. He's giving me life and I'm going to get it.
I said a little bit of Christmas. It's all my fault.
Where have you been all this time?
In the cave with Steve.
What were you doing in there, son?
I was cleaning. I was cleaning for God to make me a lie again.
After a thorough investigation, Frank and I were convinced that the shooting of Stephen Martin was accidental.
Ray Pinter's findings substantiated the Johnstone boy's story even to the smallest detail.
We put in a call to the coroner's office and 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 Martin home.
Mrs. Martin collapsed. The family doctor was called.
Frank and I sat in the living room to wait for John Martin, the dead boy's father.
Ada? Ada?
Mr. Martin?
Yes.
You're the police?
Yes, sir.
Where's Ada?
Where's my wife?
Has my boy come home?
Well, have you found him?
Yes, sir.
Where is he?
Steve? Stevie?
Where's Steve?
He's hurt, isn't he?
Yes, sir.
Where is he? I want to see him.
He's hurt pretty bad, Mr. Martin.
Where is he? I want to see him.
How bad?
Pretty bad.
He's... he's dead.
All right, if I go in?
Yes, sir, if you want to.
Will you go with me?
Yes, sir.
Don't make it any harder on yourself, Mr. Martin.
I want to see my boy.
Stevie?
Stevie?
Stevie?
Listen to me, son.
I've got a lot of nice things for Christmas.
Everything you wanted.
I could just have three new cars for the train.
No one would have searched that.
It really works, son.
I could just have been the street you wanted.
No one would have tried.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
Mr. Martin.
What happened?
It was an accident.
He was playing with a Johnstone boy up the street.
Playing with a gun.
It went off.
What... what would the other boy have made of it?
Family Johnstone.
It was an accident.
Mr. Martin, 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.
We went along with him up the street to the Johnstone home.
I'm Stevie's father.
Where's your boy?
I'm sorry.
Where's your boy?
He's right here.
Won't you come in?
All right, Miss Johnson.
You're the boy that was with Stevie?
Yes, sir.
What's your name?
Dan.
I'm sorry, Mr. Martin.
I know it wasn't your fault, Stanley.
I wonder if you'd do something for me.
Yes, sir.
I've got a lot of nice presents for Stevie.
I'd like one for you to have.
I want to give them to you.
Christmas Eve.
Well, Mom, I think that'd be a fine idea, son.
Come on, Frank.
Here.
Well, what's it all prove, Joe?
We 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 24th, the coroner's inquest was held in the county morgue,
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 Martin'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.
Technical advisors, Captain Jack Donahoe, Sergeant Marty Wynn, Sergeant Vance Brasher.
Heard tonight were Ben Alexander, William Johnstone, Sammy Ock.
Script by Jim Moser.
Music by Walter Schuman.
Hell, get me speaking.