All language subtitles for Dragnet S01E15

This is the city— Los
Angeles, California.

In 1920, the population
was 576, 673.

Today, Los Angeles is the third
largest city in the United States.

Nearly three million
people live here.

From every nation, Los
Angeles draws its bloodline.

When some of that blood
is spilled, I go to work.

I carry a badge.

It was Tuesday, August 1
6. It was hot in Los Angeles.

We were working the
day watch out of Homicide

Division. The boss is
Captain Hugh Brown.

My partner's Bill Gannon.

My name's Friday.

We’d just come back
from a bomb investigation.

It turned out to be a hoax.

The story you are
about to see is true.

The names have been
changed to protect the innocent.

How'd it go, Bill?
No bomb? No bomb.

This heat keeps up, the
whole town's gonna blow.

Yeah. I signed us in. Good.

For me? From the fifth floor.

Credit union. Pink slip on my
car. Paid off your loan, huh?

Finally. Now I gotta see
Bob Fennell again. What for?

Another loan. Now I have to get
it fixed. Transmission went out.

Friday, Gannon. Yes, sir.

Close to quitting time, I know, but here's
one to go on. I'll sign you out. Yes, sir.

1104 Westgarden. Dead body.

Don't know what I'm gonna do with all
the overtime I'm piling up. Buy a yacht.

4:23 p.m. Before
we left P.A. B.,

we made the notifications,
and then we headed

across town for the
Westgarden address.

1 104 Westgarden was
located in a quiet residential

neighborhood 15
minutes from the office.

It was 4:40 p.m.
when we got there.

Friday and Gannon.
Homicide. Fisher, 1 L-36.

The body's in the bedroom. Here's
your D.O.A. slip. Right. Thanks, Fisher.

Who's she? Mrs. Sunshine
Pound. She put in the call.

Right. Ask her to stand by,
will you? Right, Sergeant.

Thank you.

Joe, Bill. Hi, Blake.

What've ya got? Two gunshots.

Where?

Head and the heart area. Those
two slugs weigh more than she did.

Tiny little thing. Yeah.
Who covered the body?

- Woman out there in the front room.
- Let us know when you pull the slugs.

- Right, Gannon.
- All right, Ed.

Besides the usual shots,
I want two lateral, two

vertical and one head down—
And in color. Okay, Sergeant.

Can't weigh over 90 pounds.
Beautiful girl, Joe. A living doll.

Not anymore.

You're Mrs. Sunshine
Pound? Beg your pardon?

You're Mrs. Sunshine Pound?

Had you tuned out.
Yes, that's correct.

Police officers, ma'am. This is
Sergeant Friday. My name's Gannon.

Oh, the shame of it all.

Lovely girl like Reiko.
Who could do such a thing?

- What's her full name, Mrs. Pound?
- Reiko Hashimoto.

Twenty-six years
old. She married?

She was. Her husband was
killed seven months ago in Vietnam.

- He was a sergeant in the army.
- What was his name? Would you know?

Frank. Frank Hashimoto.
They were a lovely couple.

He was an army career man,
brought Reiko over from Japan.

He was nisei, born and
raised right here in Los Angeles.

- Did you hear any shots, any disturbance?
- No. Not a sound.

- Where do you live, Mrs. Pound?
- Just down the block. 1181 Westgarden.

Friday, see you a
minute? Excuse me.

We're gonna move
the body, Joe. Bill.

Be right back.

Looks like there
was an exit wound.

Wanna check it? It'll keep.

See you, Joe. Right, Blake.

Find out anything yet?

She's dead, and she was pretty.

Poor Reiko. Poor little thing.

The Hashimotos have
any enemies that you know

of? Anyone who might
do a thing like this?

Not a soul, Sergeant. They
were delightful neighbors.

Kept pretty much to themselves.
Oh, they were friendly,

but they loved their home—
Always sprucing it up.

And isn't it lovely? Reiko
was so neat and tidy.

You say she was from Japan. She
have any relatives in this country?

- Yes. One. Her mother.
- Would you know her name?

- It's Mrs. Watanabe.
- Do you know where we might find her?

Not exactly. I
only met her once.

I think from what Reiko said
that she has an apartment

someplace down in
Japanese Town— Little Tokyo.

- That's where Miko probably is,
staying with her grandmother.
- Miko?

Yes. Reiko's little
daughter. She's only five.

- Mrs. Pound, did Mrs. Hashimoto have
any men friends that you know of?
- How do you mean that, Sergeant?

- Well, I mean, being a widow,
did she go out with men?
- If she did, I never heard her say.

She loved her husband, and
although she was a beautiful girl,

I doubt very much if she
ever saw another man.

- Why would her daughter
be staying with her mother?
- I don't know.

- You covered the body with that bedsheet?
- Yes, I did.

I couldn't stand to
wait here for you people

with that little
thing lying in there.

- Yes, ma'am.
- I'm deaf, you know.

- When there's something
I don't want to hear, I turn off my aid.
- Yes, ma'am.

Poor little Reiko. There's
no way I can tune that out.

5:35 p.m. Bill called Captain
Brown and filled him in.

He asked for another two teams to begin a
house-to-house check of the neighborhood...

to see if any witnesses
could be turned.

The captain said they
would begin a search

for Reiko Hashimoto's
mother, Mrs. Watanabe.

I talked to Sergeant Dean
Bergman from Latent Prints.

Doesn't look too promising,
Joe. House is unusually clean.

The woman must have dusted and
waxed the place every 15 minutes. Yeah.

Got a few prints, but
right now I don't know.

I'll work for eliminations.
Thanks, Dean.

Alexander, Petrovich, Higbie and Hansen
are on their way out to give us a hand.

Good. Let's see if we
can turn a photograph

of the Hashimoto woman.
What's been dusted?

Everything in the
room except this table.

Inside of this chest
looks like a filing cabinet.

Same here. Everything's
in perfect order.

Must have been
quite a housekeeper.

Not a thing out of place.

Joe.

Reiko Hashimoto. Recent
picture, I'd say, wouldn't you?

She was pretty, Joe.

Let's check on that
slug in the bedroom.

- In there?
- No, it doesn't seem to be.

Went on through.
Under the house.

Wanna get the
flashlights? It's getting dark

out. Be easier to
find it in the morning.

It'll still be dark under
the house in the morning.

5:55 p.m. While I crawled

under the house, Bill
waited in the bedroom above.

He signaled to me
by tapping on the floor.

When I reached the area underneath
the bedroom, I returned the signal.

Okay. I'm bringing the
flashlight over the hole.

All right. It's on.

I see it.

How you comin'? Workin' on it.

Got it?

Got it.

6:10 p.m. Two teams
of detectives arrived...

to assist Bill and me in checking
the immediate neighborhood...

in the hope that we might
turn up someone who might

know something about
Reiko Hashimoto's murder.

We gave one of the photographs of Reiko
Hashimoto to Chuck Higbie and his partner.

Bill and I kept the other one.

Every house within a two-block
radius would be checked.

9:35 p.m. Three hours later, we were
no further ahead than we were before.

About all you can say is we took a
long walk on a warm summer evening.

Did you pull up anything,
Chuck? Woman whose property

backs up on this house thinks
she heard a couple of shots.

Thinks it was around
11:00, 11:30. Yeah?

She also said it could have been a
car backfiring. She's not sure, Joe.

Couldn't you pin her down on whether
they sounded like shots or backfiring?

Yeah, Joe. I tried.
She just wasn't sure.

You'd think people would
try to be a little more sure.

Anything else, Chuck?

Hansen talked to a woman
by the name of Cordell.

Lurlene Cordell. She lives a couple
blocks from here. 908 South Wallace.

What about her? She was attacked by some
guy driving a yellow Dodge pickup truck.

Said she reported it. Yeah?

Said the truck was full
of housepainter's gear.

She remembers a ladder
painted red and green.

Threatened her with a gun. She
didn't know the caliber. Anything else?

- Nope. That's about it.
- Then what's the connection?

I didn't say there was. Just
giving you what we turned.

With all that, Higbie, we ought
to break it in about an hour.

- Something wrong, Joe?
- No, Chuck. There's nothing wrong.

A hundred pounds of young woman
was shot through the head and the heart.

10-to-1 she was
mauled by whoever did it.

She's got a five-year-old kid
and a mother floating around

somewhere in this city. They
don't even know she's bought in.

We can't buy a piece of
anything to pick up and run with.

Some case of arrested development
can walk into a home like this,

destroy a human life, waltz out and
leave nothing behind but his memory.

And you can't run
a make on that.

We're all tired. Let's
grab something to eat

and hit it again first
thing in the morning.

You go ahead. I'll see
you at the office tomorrow.

Wife's holding dinner. See
you in the morning, Joe. Bill.

Right. Thanks, Chuck. Come on, Joe.
Nothing more we can do here tonight.

I'll hang a while longer.
What's bugging you

you get in that first
lecture at the academy.

Yeah? What's that?
The business of not letting

yourself get personally
involved in a case.

Who says I am? I do. I know
it's a useless killing. They all are.

I know we haven't got eight
cents to go on. We seldom do.

But don't let this
one eat at you, Joe.

Here are the car keys.
I'll catch a ride with Higbie.

Thanks, Bill. Smoke a
cigarette and go home.

When a man signs on the job, a
lot of things come with the badge.

The risk, the pay,
the hours he works.

One thing that isn't regulation
issue: his personal feelings.

There's no way of regulating an officer's
thoughts when he's on an investigation.

He becomes hardened
to the sight of a dead

human being— to the
grotesque, the hideous,

to man's inhumanity— his almost casual
ability to murder, to take another's life.

Once in a great while,
an officer's knees bend.

If they buckle, he's
been on the job too long.

Reiko Hashimoto was dead. It was
our job to find who made her that way.

Bill was right. I smoked a
cigarette and went home.

Wednesday, August 1 7, 8:10 a.m.

Bill and I reported to the coroner's office
for the postmortem on Reiko Hashimoto.

Victim had been dead approximately
five hours before discovery. Yeah?

She'd been sexually
molested. Killer didn't

have to worry about
the shot in her heart.

This is the one that did it. The
other one was no vitamin pill.

8:35 a.m. We took the slug the

coroner had recovered
from the victim's head...

to S. I. D., Ballistics Section.

Ray Murray placed it under
the comparison microscope...

along with the slug we had recovered
from under the Hashimoto home.

They check. They were fired from the
same weapon. What's the caliber, Ray?

255 grains,
.45-caliber revolver.

Big gun. Yeah. For
such a tiny target.

9:00 a.m. We met with

Captain Hugh Brown in
the Homicide squad room.

The two slugs match up,
and that's it, huh? That's it.

You're sure about
the general location on

that Watanabe woman,
Hashimoto girl's mother?

Yes, sir. Mrs. Pound says she lives
somewhere down around Little Tokyo.

If she does, she's rolled up tighter
than a fortune cookie. We can't find her.

The story made all the papers this
morning. If she reads them, she'll know.

How about your
callbacks? Last night when

you made your house-to-house,
everybody home?

No, sir. Three houses were dark in the
Hashimoto block. Thought we'd tag 'em now.

Get to it. We gotta turn somebody else
who can tell us how this woman lived.

Being a widow, attractive, good
chance she might've had men in her life.

Maybe one of 'em rang
her doorbell with a .45.

- My guess is no.
- Let's find out anyway.

- Yes, sir.
- And, Friday...

- Yes, sir?
- Let's ease off on the hours
you and Gannon have been putting in.

I want to get the bum who
did it just as much as you two.

I also want to see you
on the job. Get your rest.

I'll admit this is one that's
liable to keep me awake nights.

They all do me.

10:20 a.m. Bill and I return
to Westgarden Street...

to check the three houses where
there was no answer the night before.

Two of the places said
they didn't know Reiko

Hashimoto and had
nothing unusual to report.

We tried the third and
last home on the block.

I heard the entire story on the
news. It was his will, of course.

Whose will, ma'am?
Our Heavenly Shepherd.

When he summons his flock,
we must respond. Yes, ma'am.

- I wonder if we could have
your full name, please.
- Sister Agatha Edney. E-D-N-E-Y.

The Reverend Anointed Goodlang
of the Flock of Our Heavenly

Shepherd Tabernacle of
the Angels will vouch for me.

There's nothing to be vouched for, Miss
Edney. We just want a little information.

About my little departed
Japanese neighbor.

Yes, ma'am. Were you
home yesterday morning?

- I was. Until 9:00.
- You left the house at 9:00?

Tuesday Bible class begins
at 9:30. I do not drive a car.

I walk. I see. What time
did you return home?

Midnight. I stayed for the
church social and supper.

When was the last time you
saw Mrs. Hashimoto, ma'am?

I can't say. I seldom saw
her. She's not church people.

Can you tell us anything at
all about Mrs. Hashimoto?

Ever see any visitors come to
her house? Anything like that?

I rarely go outside of my
home, and then not to spy.

- Spying is the work of the devil.
- Yes, ma'am.

Does anyone else live here?

- Yes.
- Who would that be?

Our Heavenly Shepherd dwells
in the house of all who believe.

1 1:05 a.m. We began
a store-to-store check...

on all places of business in the small
shopping center in the Westgarden district.

It netted us nothing.

Noon. Bill and I began questioning
people who passed by the Hashimoto home.

We talked to the mailman,
the milkman, the paperboy.

We talked to anyone
who'd talk to us.

So far, the results were all negative.
- 30 p.m.

Oh, yes. A lovely woman.
I used to see her once

in a while doing her
gardening. Yes, ma'am.

I'm sorry I can't help
you. Poor little thing.

Well, thanks anyway. Yes.

Beginning to look hopeless.
Yeah. How many does that make?

Fifty-three.

Another woman. You
want to take her? Yeah.

Police officer, ma'am.
Am I under arrest?

No. I just want to ask you a few
questions. I'm not under arrest?

No, ma'am. I live at 1255 Wallace Street.
My husband gets home from work at 6:00.

Yes, ma'am. You talk to him.

Monday, August 29, 12:05 p.m.

We kept at it for 12
days, watching, waiting.

We didn't know exactly what we
were watching for. Maybe just a break.

Anything that might shed some light
on whoever murdered Reiko Hashimoto.

You sure you don't
want this last hot dog?

No, thanks. You go
ahead. You think I should?

Why not? I've had four.

Bill. I see it.

The ladder.

The woman Higbie talked to—
What was her name? Cordell?

Lurlene Cordell.
908 South Wallace.

That's three minutes from here.
I'll see if I can make it in two.

We were lucky. Lurlene
Cordell was at home.

Bill drove her back and parked
across the street from the Edney house.

Miss Cordell was positive it was the same
truck and the same red and green ladder.

We waited. Thirty
minutes went by.

I'd never forget that face in
a million years. That's him.

Police officers. Hold it right
there. You're under arrest.

What for? Forcible rape.

Get 'em up there.

The suspect identified
himself as Ben Roy Yoder.

He was advised of
his constitutional rights.

We asked that a black-and-white
unit take him downtown.

Bill drove Lurlene
Cordell back to her home.

I went to the Edney home
to again talk to Agatha Edney.

It was his will, and
his will will be done.

How long has Yoder lived
here? Three years now.

Why didn't you tell us before he
lived here? Ben Roy is my sister's boy.

He is fighting the
devil. He is on parole.

He said he is always
under suspicion by the

police, so he hid to
keep fighting the devil.

Kind of looks like
he lost, doesn't it?

3:30 p.m. Ben Roy Yoder was

booked under Section 26
1, 3 P. C., Forcible Rape.

We still had nothing to connect Yoder
with the murder of Reiko Hashimoto,

but because of the proximity of the
Edney home to the Hashimoto home...

and his M. O., Yoder
looked like a good bet.

5:00 p.m. A search warrant
was obtained, and along with

Detectives Hansen,
Alexander, Higbie and Petrovich,

Bill and I drove out to the Edney
home to search for the murder weapon.

5:18 p.m. We laid out plans for
the search of the Edney home.

Higbie, you and Alexander take
the garage and the truck, okay? Right.

Hansen, you take the bedrooms.
Don, how about the kitchen for you?

You want to check the bathroom?
I'll work the living room. Right.

This is not a den of thieves
to be searched. We'll try

not to upset things any more
than we have to, Miss Edney.

I shall pray,
Officer. Yes, ma'am.

Not for you. For Ben Roy.

7:32 p.m. We searched the
entire premises three times.

Each time around, we'd
switch search areas.

Each officer would take a different
room than he had the time before.

Ten pounds of air,
Joe. All right. Again.

This time I'll take the kitchen. Each
man alternate with his partner again.

I'll work the bathroom again.
I'll take Yoder's bedroom.

You men are the
devil's disciples.

Yes, ma'am. You
men know no bounds.

You would search a heavenly
temple, wouldn't you? Yes, ma'am.

If we thought there
was a murder gun in it.

Joe. In here.

Missed it before. False
bottom in the drawer.

Found it underneath
in this torn paper bag.

.45-caliber revolver.

Been fired recently.

You know, if you
could cook, I'd marry ya.

Tuesday, August 30, 6:00 p.m.

Death bullets came from this
weapon. Striations match perfectly.

This is the gun that killed
the little Japanese girl.

Looked like it was wiped
clean. How do we tie it to Yoder?

I did that for you too. Ran the paper
sack through the anhydrine process.

Lifted several good prints.
They belong to Yoder.

Thanks, Ray. Joe.

It's been a real pleasure doing
business with you on this one.

6:10 p.m. Bill and I went

downstairs to Homicide
to check out for the day.

Friday, Gannon. Yeah, Skipper.

Just got a call 10 minutes ago.
Should interest you. Yes, sir.

She's out at the Hashimoto house, asked
if you'd drop by for a minute. Who's that?

Hashimoto woman's
mother, Mrs. Watanabe.

6:35 p.m. Bill and I drove out
to 1 104 Westgarden Street.

Mrs. Watanabe showed us into the
garden in back of the Hashimoto house.

I am so happy you could come.

It is for Miko. Yes, ma'am.

I have prepared green
tea and rice crackers.

Miko...

This is Reiko's daughter, Miko.

Thank you. Arigato, Miko.

Mrs. Watanabe? No, thank you.

The reason I did not call you before is
I did not know of my daughter's dying.

Miko and me, we were staying with
friends on a farm in Imperial Valley.

I finally read Rafu
Shimpo, Japanese paper,

and I learned of my sadness.

Yes, ma'am. Mrs. Watanabe,
we'd like you to know...

we believe we've caught the
man that killed your daughter.

Oh. So quick. You
have man in prison.

Why would he want
my daughter's life?

We don't know, Mrs.
Watanabe. Some men just kill.

Oh, yes.

In Japan we have
same, but not so many.

- Yes, ma'am.
- Miko, she has gift for you.

She know you work hard to find
the man who took her mother's life.

Miko...

Very nice tea, Mrs. Watanabe.

I'm so happy you
like it. It is from Japan.

She say it is her
most favorite doll.

Her name is Princess Michiko.

She wishes for you to have it.

Mrs. Watanabe, you
don't have to give us

anything. We're not
allowed to accept gifts.

Oh, the child will be
disappointed if you do not take it.

Please tell her thank you. Tell
her just the thought is enough.

Is it not a good enough doll?

You tell her, just like
her mistress— - Yes?

Princess Michiko
is a living doll.

The story you have
just seen is true.

The names were changed
to protect the innocent.

On November
20, trial was held...

in Department 185,

Superior Court of
the State of California,

for the County of Los Angeles.

In a moment, the
results of that trial.

The suspect was found guilty
of murder in the first degree.

Murder in the first degree
is punishable by death...

or confinement in
the state prison for life.