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About this Episode
A groundbreaking police procedural drama that follows Sergeant Joe Friday and his partners as they investigate crimes in Los Angeles. Known for its realistic portrayal of police work, the series emphasized methodical investigations and factual storytelling, setting a new standard for crime dramas.
Hosts & Guests
Transcript
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Here at Detective Sargent, he resigned to robbery detail.
A store clerk has been murdered, shot to death in a robbery.
A hold-up man has described his tall, well-dressed.
He escapes in a taxi cab.
Your job.
Get him.
Oh, no.
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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 from official police files.
From beginning to end, from crime to punishment,
Dragnet is the story of your police force in action.
It was Friday, August 17th, it was hot in Los Angeles.
We were working the night watch out of robbery detail.
My partner's Ben Romero, the boss is Captain Walker.
My name's Friday.
It was 8.35 p.m. when we got to the church of St. Damien.
The vestibule.
That must be her playing the organ.
Yeah, I don't see any stairs.
Wonder how you get up there to the loft.
Looks like that might be the sect in the one there.
Well, let's ask it.
Excuse me, sir.
Yes.
We're looking for an Ernestine Matthews.
Understands he's the organist here at the church.
Well, that's her playing up there now.
Playing over a few pieces for Sunday.
Could you tell us how to get up to the choir looser?
Surely, through that door over there,
follow the stairway straight up.
Can't miss.
Thank you.
Your husband a long time.
What's that?
Flaming stairs to a choir looser.
Saying a lot in church and as a kid.
Boyce and Brennan.
All right.
Can you find this from the other boy's team?
Yes, did you want this?
Are you Mrs. Ernestine Matthews?
Yes, did you come about to do a choir looser?
No, ma'am.
Police officer.
Oh, can I help you?
It's about your husband who is Matthews.
Bird, what about him?
Is Bird done something?
He was hurt, ma'am.
Well, I don't understand.
Bird's working at the store.
What do you mean he was hurt?
There was a hole there.
Dear God, my husband.
Have you heard that?
Yes, ma'am.
What is he?
I've got to go to him.
Is he in pain?
No, ma'am.
What are you trying to say?
Oh, God, tell me the truth, which hospital is he in?
It took him to Georgia Street, he helped him all he could.
Not trying to tell me the truth, but it's dead.
Not trying to tell me that, are you?
I'm sorry, ma'am.
In the past 16 days, seven armed robberies
had been committed apparently with the same man.
The suspect was described by victims as tall, heavily
built, and very nervous.
He was armed.
It's cold logic that every suspect who's
armed in the commission of a robbery is a potential killer.
It's a fact that's been proved a hundred times over.
The man we were after had proven it again.
We used every means at our disposal to identify him
through the stats office, the record bureau,
latent fingerprints, throw informants and witnesses.
We'd gotten not an APB on him containing
his description and his method of operation.
We'd maintain state-outs.
We hadn't reached him in time.
Early that evening, a downtown grocery store
had been held up.
One of the clerks, 31-year-old Bert Matthews,
failed to empty the cash register quickly enough
and the bandage shot him three times through the chest.
He died almost instantly in the hold-up man escape.
It was only one witness.
Another clerk who had been on duty in the store
with Matthews at the time of the hold-up.
His name was Jess Talman.
He was brought to the city hall where
we questioned him further.
Do you see Bert's wife?
Does she know?
Yeah, we dropped off at the church on the way in,
go over to her sister's place.
Still can't get her through my head.
One minute, I was talking to Bert.
Next minute, he was dead.
It's kind of hard to take, you know?
I'd like to go over that description of the hold-up, man.
You were pretty upset out there.
The store, do you feel up to it now?
Yeah, I'm OK.
All right, I'll just take it easy.
Tell us everything you remember and take all the time in here.
Well, I know he was a big guy.
Over six foot.
Anyway, I'm sure that he had a good bill, too.
Wasn't skinny.
How about his face, Jess, to get a good look at it?
Yeah, I did.
It was thin and he kept working it around.
You know, twitching like guy was bloody nervous.
Can you tell us anything else about it?
He was young, about 21, I'd say, at dark color eyes.
That's about all that swear to Sergeant.
He had a hat on, I know that.
How about the rest of his clothing?
I wouldn't be sure about it.
Could have been a great coat, blue coat, I don't know.
I wouldn't want to give you a bomb stare.
Did you get a look at the gun?
I couldn't miss that.
It was a big one.
It wasn't shiny, it was kind of dark blue color.
I can see the guy now walking in the storm, pointing it at Bert.
What time was that again, Jess?
When the band had showed up.
Just about the 730.
Bert was behind the counter.
I was in the back, stacking the shelves.
The guy just walked in, pointed the gun, said,
give me the dough.
I heard him say that.
Bert was kind of surprised.
He just stood there for a minute.
The guy said, hurry up, give me the dough.
Bert said, OK, you can have everything.
Near reach to get the dough from the cash register.
That's when the guy did it.
Hit Bert right in the chest.
What happened, then?
Bert moaned a little and fell down on the floor.
I got some out.
I started running for the guy.
But he swung around at me with a gun and said, stay where you are.
Well, I didn't want to get killed.
I stopped.
You can't blame me for that, can you?
Did you follow the memory left?
When you see he backed out of the store.
And when he got to the sidewalk, he jammed the gun.
And he's pocketed, ran down the street.
I ran out after him, saw him jump and he'd
tax a cab and take off.
Did you get the cab's number?
Well, there's too far away for that.
Please tap way down the block.
I know somebody else must have been driving it, though.
How do you know that?
The cab's already moving when the whole up guy jumped in.
He got in the front seat.
How do you know it was the front seat and not the back?
The way those cab doors open, you know?
Front doors swing out to the left, back when swing out to the right.
That ties in, Joe.
He used the same memo on those hold-ups last week.
He got anything else to add, yes?
And you think we ought to know?
It's about the size of it, Sergeant.
You don't think I'm yellow, do you?
What do you mean?
I mean, because I stopped when he pointed the gun at me.
I guess I should have grabbed him, but that gun looked as big as a cannon.
A space that I'm not that much of a hero.
I'll put in with you, Jess.
Neither am I.
Along with the team of men from homicide detail, we continued our investigation of the
hold-up and killing.
Ballistics reported that the slugs taken from the body of Bert Matthews had possibly
been fired from a 38-calibre cult revolver.
The slugs were in good condition for identification.
All the possible suspects picked from the mug books by the victims had been checked out.
All of them had been cleared.
Fingerprints left for the bandit at the scene of his latest crime were checked out.
No make.
We tried to check the tax you can't have used in the escape.
We got nowhere.
Tyler Reddick here from 2311 Racing, another checkered flag for the books.
Time to celebrate with Jamba.
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Let's Jamba.
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The morning after the math he was killing, we got a call from Sheriff's homicide who went
across the street and checked with Inspector Bowers.
Either one of you remember that case about six months ago, the Harry Solomon killing?
Oh, yeah, I'm just factored.
Pretty vague right now.
You're manhanded at Carnegie?
Yeah.
Let me lay it out for you.
It's just possible with Mike Tyin with that killing you fellas at last night.
What's he doing?
Harry Solomon was a taxi cab driver.
The night of February 26th, somebody saw him pick up a fare at sunset in Highland about
10.30 p.m.
That's the last time he was seen alive.
Yeah, I think I remember.
The next morning, we found Solomon's body and a ditch out in the valley, 238 slugs in
his head, found his cab a few yards up the road, abandoned.
Killer used a 38, same kind of gun you'd done last night, yeah.
Here's something else that Ty's in.
Yes.
A description of the passenger, Solomon picked up at sunset in Highland, a night he was
murdered.
The last ferry ever handled.
White male American.
Over six feet tall, heavy build.
Age, 2021, dark eyes, had a dark suit on the hat, matches up, all the way down to my,
you had a robbery motive figured on the Solomon killing, didn't you?
That's right.
Except for a $5 bill hidden in his wallet, Solomon didn't have a penny of his receipts
for the night.
It might have been another reason behind the killing besides that, yeah.
Just belly possible, Solomon might have known the holdup man, the guy who killed him.
How do you think it?
Solomon had been a cabbie for 14 years before he was murdered.
And this holdup man's M.O. using cabs for a getaway car, it's possible he might have
been a cab driver at some time, brother.
I mean, if the killer got in the cab and told Solomon, Solomon recognized him with suspicion.
I could have been reason enough for him to kill Solomon.
I know there's a lot of goods and ifs and maybes in it, then I thought you might be interested.
I would check it out first thing.
How are your men coming on the Solomon thing?
The fog does this pretty slow.
Well, we'll keep you posted on anything new.
We can help, but we know.
Right, bye.
Two sets of 38 slugs.
What do you think?
Let's ask the crime line.
We're put in a request to Russ Camp and Ballistics to check the 38 slugs found in taxi driver
Solomon's body against those found in the body of grocery clerk Bert Matthews.
Then we contacted the special agent at the taxi camp company.
We asked him for pictures of all their drivers employed by the company during the past year
who were six feet in height or over.
He told us that they'd have a file ready for us the following morning.
They drove back to the office and checked in with Russ Camp at the crime line.
He was examining the 38 slugs under the comparison line.
Just a few more men, Phil, let's have a chair.
Yeah.
Now, much luck so far.
No.
Well, that's it.
No, no, Meg.
These slugs come from two different guns.
That night, two more armed robberies were committed.
One at a liquor store, the other at a cafe.
In both cases, the hold-up man escaped in a taxi camp.
The description of the man who robbed the liquor store massbed out of the bandit
who shot and killed Bert Matthews.
The big switch came when we checked the cafe hold-up.
There, the victims described the suspect as short and fat with dark blonde hair
and a deep scar on his chin.
During the robbery, this suspect has become so nervous that he dropped his gun
but he'd succeeded in getting outside and escaping in a taxi cab before it could be apprehended.
The gun was taken back to late with fingerprints in check.
It was clean.
Russ Camp checked it through ballistics.
Some days, like this, fellas, what do you mean?
That cab driver Solomon was shot with a fake gun.
That cab driver Solomon was shot with a 38.
Bert Matthews was shot with a 38.
Different one, though.
This gun the band had dropped tonight.
It's a 38, too.
Yeah, we know that. What are you getting at?
It doesn't match either case.
The next morning, we started working one of the few leads we had left.
We drove down to the taxi cab company and collected the pictures of all the drivers
that they employed during the past year,
who were six feet in height or over.
They were 87 of them.
We started checking them out.
It's what the working detective calls legwork.
It's slow and it's tedious.
You're not sure it's going to amount to anything, even, but the time you're finished.
Two nights later, the taxi cab band had hit again.
His first repeater, a restaurant on South Figaroa.
He'd robbed the same place less than three weeks before.
Ben and I interview the manager, a Mr. Cavallo.
Telling his sergeant I can't take any more of it twice in one month.
Yes, sir.
Could we talk back there in one of the booths?
Oh, yeah. Come on.
You've got a good look at the bandage, Mr. Cavallo.
Two feet from him.
Memorize his face from the first time.
It's not joke, you know.
So I have no time for the customers, and two busy open their cashpots for that thief.
There.
Sit down.
Thanks, sir.
Well, in your positive, it's the same animal robbed you before.
There's no question there.
No, no, I'm positive.
And he used the same M.O. too.
Yeah, sure.
M.O.?
What's that?
Oh, excuse me.
I mean, he used the same approach, the same method of operation.
Everything was the same.
The man, the gun, the taxi cab, everything.
You didn't get the number of the cab.
I looked for it.
I didn't see any.
Must cover it up some way.
Mm-hmm.
But we've got some pictures here, Mr. Cavallo.
I'd like to have you look at them.
Just tell us if you recognize any of them.
Well, I won't do any good.
Mm-hmm.
I already did that.
They showed me pictures the last time.
This is a different lot, sir.
Oh.
All right.
Quite a few of them.
I'd like to have you check each one of them carefully.
If you would, just take your time.
Well, we can't sit here without coffee.
Natalie!
Well, I wouldn't.
Natalie!
I don't care for you.
Yeah, I don't be silly.
I can't work without eating.
Natalie!
Yeah!
Coffee, three cups.
Okay.
And now where do I start?
Well, these right here, if you just check these over, please.
Uh-huh.
Uh-huh.
No, not him.
Uh-huh.
Not him either.
Oh, thank you.
Thank you.
Uh-huh.
Well, it's hot.
Uh-huh.
No, not that one.
No.
Is that all?
No.
Have some more here.
Uh-huh.
Oh.
Hey, that's an ugly looking guy.
I don't look at that scar.
Can you look for me?
No.
Better check with a skipper.
When we're finished here.
It's been a couple hours.
I know.
That allows you no good, safe.
Sorry.
Right here.
This one.
That's a guy.
You sure?
I opened my cash box twice for my notice face on a million.
Morris Copeland.
Age 21.
Description matches.
Let's go, Ben.
Thanks, Mr. Klow.
Well, it's only 40 minutes since the robbery is probably not even home yet.
What can you do?
We'll wait up.
10.30 p.m.
We parked down the street from 5.27 Dayton Avenue,
a two-story white-stuck apartment house.
We checked the names on the mailboxes.
Morris Copeland wasn't on any of them.
We rang for the manager.
Copeland?
Morris Copeland now.
He doesn't live here.
Never heard of him.
I wonder if you'd take a look at this, man.
Hmm.
The picture, man.
Have you ever seen this man before?
Let me get over here in the light.
Let me say no.
No, it doesn't live here.
And you've never seen him before?
No, I didn't say that.
I just said it doesn't live here.
And you have seen him before?
I believe in my town, yes.
Now, in fact, I'm sure of it.
The friend of Mr. Tolbin's apartment 5 comes to visit Mr. Tolbin every now and then.
Is this Mr. Tolbin in now, man?
We'd like to talk to him.
No, right not.
He works nice.
Never comes home for doing him.
Yeah, he's a cab driver.
You are listening to Dragnet, authentic stories of your police force in action.
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10.45 pm.
In the presence of the manager, we made a search of the apartment registered in the name of Ralph Tobin.
The man who was supposed to be a friend of the suspect Morris Copley.
We found nothing that would tie either of them up with the robberies and the killings.
Before the manager returned to her apartment, we instructed her to say nothing about our being there in case Tobin or Copley returned.
We called the office and told them we'd receive an identification on Morris Copley.
They checked them both through R&I, neither had any criminal record.
They got on an APB on Copley.
We waited. Midnight came.
Nothing happened.
1 a.m.
130. Still no sign of either man.
145.
Somebody's coming around back to your room, kitchen door.
Maury, you back of rain?
Hold it right there, mister.
Police officers.
Oh, fine.
Why is this a stick-up police officer?
I'm just playing you.
What's it all about?
What do you want?
You Ralph Tobin.
That's right. This is my apartment.
You know what Morris Copley?
Copley?
Yeah, I know him.
You're looking for him. He's not here.
We know that. We're raising.
I wish I knew. I'm looking for him too. He owes me money.
Copley's a pretty steady visitor here, is that right?
He was, though. I lent him that $65.
I haven't seen him since. He took off.
When was that?
When?
About two weeks ago.
Yeah, just about.
Look, you mind if I sit out on a little nervous.
Go ahead.
Kind of sensitive, you know?
Why are you looking for Maury?
I'd like to have you repeat what you said when you came in that door.
What I said?
I asked you your word, didn't I?
You know what I mean before that?
I said, don't think I know what you're getting at officer.
You said, Maury, you're back already?
Not what you said.
Yeah, I guess I did. I guess I thought Maury came back
to pay me the $65.
You didn't make it sound like you got over and I got the idea you were expecting.
Expecting.
I haven't seen Maury in two weeks, maybe three.
You took me for $65.
All right, that's enough small talk, Mr.
Now, Copley's in deep.
You're going to match him if we don't get a straight story.
Can's a beer in the refrigerator.
Let's have one around.
Get the beer.
Where's Copley?
I'm going to swear in the Bible if you want me to.
I don't know.
Look, if Maury pull anything heavy, I'm not in on it.
Ben, you want to check with a manager.
Ask her when's the last time she saw Copley here.
Yeah, right.
Now, wait a minute, officers.
I want to cooperate.
Maury's in deep. That's his fault.
Not mine.
That's right, isn't it?
That's right. No, where is he?
I don't know. That's a truth.
I tell you something else.
I wasn't squaring. I saw Maury early tonight.
Six o'clock.
Came here and borrowed another five from him.
But you don't worry, is no.
No.
You said, sure, like a can of beer, if you don't worry.
It's still, I'll get it for you.
You sure you won't have one?
No, not me.
No, thanks. I don't want to.
There you go. Good cold beer.
I like it when I get nervous.
Oh, it comes me down.
Say, it's over.
Yeah, after?
You haven't taken your head off.
Oh, I was nervous because I forgot.
There. Your hair always been dark blonde.
And since I was a kid, yeah, why?
How about that scar in your chin? It's pretty deep, wouldn't it?
Beer's sure good. I ask you about the scar.
It's kind of embarrassing. I got a little high one night.
I fell off a merry-go-round.
Big night.
Now I've heard everything.
I had a robbery report a couple nights ago, Tobin.
Hold up, ma'am. It was just about your height and weight.
Yeah?
Dark blonde hair had a scar in his chin, too.
I'm afraid you got a wrong slide off, sir.
I work in a cab every night of the week, more than me.
Right, if we ever look at your car, son.
How do you know I had a car?
We didn't. Let's give it a look, shall we?
Why do you want to look at it?
We have a little angel height at it.
Of course not. I don't know.
Like Mory's, Oz, and Trouble Oz on the lamb.
You'll probably think it's funny when you check the golf compartment in my car.
Well, we...
You know, you will. Why is that?
Keep a gun in there.
You know how many camp drivers get shot?
A guy can't be too careful.
What kind of gun do you have, Tobin?
Revolver.
Regular revolver.
What caliber?
38. Why?
230 AM.
We searched his car, picked up his 38 caliber revolver,
and then we drove Ralph Tobin back to the office
where he was detained for questioning.
We had a stake out place in his apartment.
Russ Camp and Ballistics checked Tobin's gun against the slugs
which had taken the lives of Harry Solomon and Bert Matthews.
Was found beyond the question of a doubt that his gun had been used
in the Solomon killing.
We confronted Tobin with the evidence.
He started talking.
He told us that Copley was responsible for the murder of both Solomon and Matthews
that Copley had borrowed his gun for the Solomon job.
In all the robbers except one, he described himself only as the accomplice.
He drove the getaway taxi cap.
The only occasion he tried to handle the actual hold-up was at the cafe
where he became so nervous that he had dropped his gun.
Before he was booked on suspicion of murder, Tobin told us
that Morris Copley still had 238 revolvers in his position.
He insisted he had no idea where Copley was.
Ben handled the questioning while a stenographer took Tobin's statement.
I contacted Inspector Bowers and informed him of our progress.
11 a.m. I got back to the squadron.
All right, did you check back through that personal record we got from the cab coming?
Yeah, I got half an idea, I think.
Yeah.
See here on Copley's application for the job?
No, I'm sure we checked out all those references.
They don't go anywhere.
No, I mean this right here.
All right, yes.
Children, one daughter, aged four months.
This application dated May 6th.
That means his baby was born in February and Copley was working here then.
So it's 10 to 1.
The baby was born in a local hospital.
What I mean if we find the right hospital or the doctor they could lead us to.
Here's the phone book.
Let's go.
From noon until 4 p.m. we called every hospital sanitarium.
Clinic and rest home listed in the book.
The answers were the same.
No record of confinement, but a Mrs. Morris Copley.
I seem like a good idea.
How are you going now?
Well, we've got one more in the county hospital.
Well, this is Sergeant Friday Police Department robbery detail.
Yes.
If I could find out if you have any record of confinement for a Mrs. Morris Copley.
No, that's Copley.
See you in Charlie.
Yes, thank you.
You might have sent his wife out of town to have a baby in the hospital.
Yeah.
Mm-hmm.
11-18.
Thank you.
11-18 Rochester Copley's aunt.
Let's go.
4.30 p.m.
Together with Olson and Faxter from homicide detail, we drove out to 11-18 Rochester Avenue
in the Friendshaud District.
The house was vacant.
From a neighbor we learned that Copley's aunt had moved two weeks before.
We got her address from one of her friends in the neighborhood and finally located her at work in a beauty shop on Melrose Avenue.
We posed as traffic investigators.
The aunt told us she thought we could find her nephew Morris at home and address on East 13th Street.
6 p.m.
We located the house and parked the cars a half a block away.
As we approached the house on foot, we saw a light burning in one of the windows on the left side of the house.
Thanks to her, Olson covered the back.
Had a given signal laying at the back door, Ben and I went through the front.
Sempty.
Faxter.
Coming back here, Joe. Happy?
That's great. Looks like somebody passed them a tip off just in time.
Look at them messes, places in there.
We got out in the hurry, all right.
Hey, what's going on here?
What do you men think you're doing?
Police officers, you know what I mean?
There's Silvera, one of the neighbors.
You looking for the Copley's?
When they leave.
20 minutes ago, I guess, in an awful hurry.
What's your trouble?
You know where they were going.
Well, no, but you might try Mr. Copley's aunt.
She lives over in Rochester.
They're not there.
Well, do you try to sister sounds?
6.45 p.m., the neighbor Silvera,
directed us to the home of Morris Copley's sister.
A small frame cottage on the edge of Beverly Hills.
The lights were on the living room, but the shades were drawn.
Faxter and Olson made their way quietly around the back.
Ben and I went up the front steps and rang the bell.
Here.
What do you want?
You miss Copley.
Here.
What is it?
Police officers, ma'am.
I'm sorry.
Oh, he isn't here.
More, more, isn't here.
We know he's here.
Living room's empty.
Must be in the bag, you know.
You can't.
He's in the back room of the baby.
He's got a gun.
You can't go in there.
Where's the bedroom?
See him in the hall at that door.
He was sleeping.
I think he's awake now.
The baby's close to him.
The same bed.
He's popped up on pillows right next to it.
He's got that gun.
When they don't go in, please.
Where's the bed situated in the room?
It's right inside the door of the left.
Please don't go in.
He won't care what happens to the baby.
Ben, I'll open the door.
You get the light switch and cover me.
One night, baby.
You let us stay here.
I miss Copley.
Your baby won't get her if let's go.
All right.
Let's go in.
All right.
Come with you.
Grab the gun, Ben.
I got a joke.
All right.
Go begin him up.
Come on up.
Go.
There we go.
Just a little frightened, ma'am.
She's all right.
I kid you, Mary.
You tell him where to find us, didn't you?
I kid you for that.
Oh, he's right.
He needs to work.
Lousy day.
Nobody else knows she's the one who told you, didn't she?
No.
And who did who told you?
You're looking at her.
What do you mean?
Your baby.
The story you have just heard was true.
Only the names were changed to protect the innocent.
On December 16th, trial was held in Superior Court City in County of Los Angeles, state of California, in a moment the results of that trial.
And now, here is our star, Jack Webb.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
And now, here is our star, Jack Webb.
Thank you.
The working detective knows that there is one mark of identification that never changes.
A man's fingerprints.
The suspect may change his appearance in many ways, but his fingerprints always remain the same.
A mark of identity that cannot be changed.
When you compare Fatima with other long cigarettes, the difference is quality.
A mark of identity which never changes.
And Fatima is extra mild.
If you're a long cigarette smoker like I am, smoke Fatima.
They cost the same, but in Fatima, the difference is quality.
Smoke Fatima.
Morris John Copley and Ralph Edward Tobin were tried and convicted of murder in the first degree, two counts.
They were both sentenced to be executed in the lethal gas chamber of the state penitentiary, San Quentin, California.
You have just heard Dragnet, the series of authentic cases from official files.
Technical advice comes from the Office of Chief of Police, W.H. Parker, Los Angeles Police Department.
Fatima cigarettes, the best of all, long cigarettes, has brought you Dragnet.
Portions transcribed from Los Angeles.
Coming up, we the people tomorrow enjoy the life of Gryly on NBC.
It is Ryan C. Crest here.
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