All language subtitles for Dragnet S03E26 Frauds (DR-36).DVDRip.NonHI.cc.en

This is the city.

Los Angeles, California.

Like a young child it's growing.

Always trying to
flex its new muscles.

Bunker Hill in downtown Los Angeles was the
site of many stately Victorian mansions.

They house the city's
early society families.

Now, they're being torn down to make
way for the Bunker Hill development,

a planned complex of
modern skyscrapers and parks.

Up until 1956, buildings in the city
were not permitted to exceed 13 stories.

New construction methods
enabled earthquake prone

Los Angeles to
reach for new heights.

Within the last 10 years, over
a hundred high-rise structures

have been built, adding a new
dimension to the city skyline.

The city and its people are
a constant source of change.

In my job, I try to keep up.

I carry a badge.

The story you are
about to see is true.

The names have been
changed to protect the innocent.

It was Tuesday, July 22nd.

It was hot in Los Angeles.

We were working the day
watch out of Frauds Division.

The boss is Captain Ron Frankel.

My partner is Bill Gannon.

My name is Friday.

David Williams,
credit manager for the

Summer's Department Store
chain had asked for a meeting.

The firm's auditing
section had just completed

an examination of
Mr. Williams' books.

The audit had revealed
a merchandise shortage

of nearly $100,000.

Well, that's it, Joe,
in black and white.

According to the auditors, I've failed
to bill $100,000 worth of merchandise

that's gone out of our
stores in the past six months.

Any theories, Mr. Williams?
Any idea how it's been done?

Yes, somewhere along the line.

Records of credit card
sales are being destroyed.

Now, when a customer charges
something there's no way I can

bill him if I don't
get the sales slip.

- You do the billing for all five
stores, is that correct?
- Right.

When a Summer's
customer buys anything on

credit, we bill him out
of charge sales office.

You came through
it on the way in.

How many people work
out there in charge sales?

66 including eight supervisors
and I know what you are thinking.

- Was that so?
- Every store suffered losses.

If someone's tearing up the sales records,
they can't be in five places at once.

They're probably working
for me, right out there.

- No, sir, not necessarily.
- Oh? Why?

Well, you've got five stores.

A lot of people could be involved in this
and it says right there in your folder,

the average loss has been $15,000
with a merchandise every month.

That would keep one
person busy just logging it off.

I guess you're right
especially if he had to

be at work every day
covering up his tracks.

We'd like to see the personnel records
on those 66 people in charge sales.

Fine. You can work
here in my office.

All right, sir. Thank you.

Only there will be
67 sets of records.

Sir?

Mine will be right
on top of the pile.

11:15 a.m.

Bill and I checked 67
sets of personnel records.

Williams and the
majority of his clerks in the

charge sales office were
long-time employees.

Five had been hired
within the last year.

We sent routine wires to former employees
of five persons in the charge sales office.

Awful little things,
these credit cards.

- You're one of the supervisors,
are you, sir?
- That's right. Fred Wayman.

Mr. Wayman, we're police officers.
This is Bill Gannon. My name is Friday.

Oh, we heard about the big
flap up front. What's the matter?

Somebody counterfeiting
credit cards?

- Why do you say that?
- The rumor is all over the
store.

- Have you ever worked in one of
these places?
- No, I can't say I have.

- You?
- No, sir.

It's like punching a
time clock and a jungle

drum, a hollow log.
You know what I mean?

No, sir, not exactly.

Fun playing and it comes
out thunder at the other.

Whisper a trade secret downstairs
you got a sonic boom four stories above.

That's a department store.

- Well, then you know why we're
here.
- I know what the auditors think.

Someone's getting rid
of sales slips before we

can post them to the
customers' accounts, right?

Well, that's the theory.

Any idea how a person might
go about that, Mr. Wayman?

All I can tell you is
how the system works.

Here. This is a sales book
we use for training purposes.

There's an original, a duplicate, and a
tissue copy of each sales slip in the book.

Here's where the salesman
imprints your credit card.

When you buy something
the duplicate copy is yours.

The tissue stays in
the salesman's book.

The original is
treated just like cash.

At the end of the day,
the store adds them up.

The next morning
they're sent up here.

We post them to your
account and send out the bill.

- No original, no bill. Is that
what you are saying?
- Right.

If the original sales slip is torn
up, lost, whatever, we're in trouble.

What about the tissue copy,
the one in the salesman's book.

Eventually, they'll get around to an
audit, I suppose, but it will take time.

Well, now, if an item is big
enough to require delivery,

wouldn't there be
additional records?

In the delivery
department, not here.

All we're interested in is that original
sales slip and where to send the bill.

- All right, sir, do you mind if
we look around?
- Help yourself.

Well, thanks for
the information.

I heard the story it was standing
short about a hundred grand.

- That's a lot of loot.
- Yes, sir, it is.

Where did you hear that?

Like I said, jungle drums.

Three supervisors in the
charge sales office were men.

We talked to all three.
They agreed on two things.

Their co-workers were honest
and it would be no trick at all

to destroy incoming sales slips.

Excuse me, are you a supervisor?

The only woman supervisor.

I'm Helen Zimmerman.

Ms. Zimmerman,
we're police officers.

This is Bill Gannon.
My name is Friday.

Eight months ago, they
promoted me from file clerk.

Is that so? Then
maybe you can help us.

Is it possible for anyone
in this department

to destroy an
incoming sales slip?

Of course.

Anyone could
tear up a sales slip.

Who'd be the wiser but
for what reason? Why?

Does your company
sell fur coats?

Of course, we do.

What's the most expensive
one in the inventory?

About $10,000.

Well, now, if the guilty party had an
accomplice or a dozen accomplices

using stolen or falsified
credit cards, they

could all get rich in a
hurry, don't you agree?

I'd never thought
about it that way.

We checked the personnel
records, Ms. Zimmerman.

Five of your girls have been
hired within the past year.

Any particular reason
for the turnover?

An excellent reason.
The best I can think of.

- Oh, what's that?
- Marriage, Sergeant.

People do it all the time.

Credit cards for the Summer's
Department Stores were prepared

by a plastics firm in East Los
Angeles that specialized in the trade.

The company's correspondence
was stored on microfilm.

We talked to the general
manager, Mr. Robert Weston.

We get hundreds of orders
every month from that one account.

They want new credit cards, replacements
for cards that have been lost or stolen.

- You name it.
- Where do the orders originate?

We're authorized to
accept only one signature.

- Whose?
- The credit manager, Dave
Williams.

Yeah, thanks a lot, Carol.

- Well, what's the good word, did
you find the thief?
- No, sir, not yet.

Well I've been on the
phone with the auditors.

They said they worked on the
tissue copies from the sales books.

They got a team out in the
West L.A. store right now.

Called in a couple of big items,
they might have something.

Like what, Mr. Williams?

Ten days ago, a woman
using the credit card of an old

preferred account bought a
fur stole, price $1,200 plus tax.

The name on the
card was Henderson.

- Henderson? That would be one of
Ms. Zimmerman's accounts, right?
- Right.

Naturally, the salesman called
in to verify the $1,200 item,

Helen checked, the
account was good.

- Only one thing haywire.
- What was that?

The sales slip
hasn't shown up yet.

I pulled the Henderson
file immediately.

There's a letter in
here three weeks ago.

Henderson registered
a change of address and

requested another credit
card for his daughter.

He even gave us her
description; blonde,

25 years old,
five-feet-six. Take a look.

- Did you authorize the card?
- I didn't.

Here's my correspondence
for a month for

the people who
manufacture our credit cards.

I checked every letter I signed.

There's no mention of
this particular Henderson.

Who gets the cards when they
come back from the manufacturer?

They go to the
supervisors for mailing.

I think we better have a
talk with Ms. Zimmerman.

- Not here you won't.
- Oh, why not?

- She left 20 minutes ago.
- Is that so?

Yeah, she said she
wasn't feeling well.

3:15 p.m.

I called Helen Zimmerman's
apartment in West Los Angeles.

The operator told me the
phone had been disconnected.

- Any luck?
- Negative.

We talked to Mr. Henderson.
He hasn't moved.

He doesn't intend to and
he hasn't got a daughter.

She died 20 years
ago at the age of five.

3:40 p.m.

On the way to Helen
Zimmerman's last known address,

we stopped at the Summer's
Department Store in West L.A.

How can people think
of furs on a day like this?

Listen, a woman can
think of furs anytime, pal.

Yeah, the wife has been nagging
me for years to get her a new one.

Is that so? What
kind she got now?

- Squirrel. I gave it to her for
a wedding present.
- Squirrel?

Well, three of them, not just one, Joe. You
know, chasing each other around her neck.

Each squirrel biting
the other one's tail.

- Mm-hmm.
- It's real pretty, Joe.

Bonjour. Bonjour, gentlemen.

I'm Henri, manager of the salon.

Yes, sir. We're police officers.
We'd like to ask you a few questions.

Oh, yes, of course.

- It's about Ms. Henderson's
stole, n'est-ce pas?
- I beg your pardon?

Yes, sir. We'd like a description
of her if you can give us one.

Of course. One
moment. Sil' vous plais.

- What did he say?
- He said he'd be right back.

The manager told us the
woman who bought the stool was

in her mid-20s, blonde,
well-dressed, about five-feet-six.

Her French was atrocious
but she knew furs.

She spotted this one right away.

Beautiful garment.
What is that, mink?

- Heather dyed squirrel.
- Anything else about her, sir?

Oh, her attitude.
I was repelled.

Do you mind explaining that?

I don't know if I can.

She was brassy.

That's it, she was brassy.

- Very coarse woman.
- Is that right?

Oh, I can spot a brassy
woman a mile away.

Well, thank you very much, sir.

Well, anytime, at your
service. Just ask for Henri.

What is the price of this
Heather dyed squirrel?

- $300.
- Uh-huh.

Well, thank you
very much, Henri.

Well, this is it. Nothing.

Two weeks ago, I was in
El Centro visiting my sister.

Helen packed up
and left just like that.

Did Ms. Zimmerman
leave a forwarding address?

No. No word, no number.

Oh, I found an envelope under my
front door with an extra month's rent.

Nothing else.

When you last saw her, did
she seem worried or upset?

I was coming to that.

Yes, she seemed very upset. It
was the night before I left town.

She came down and had coffee.

I asked her if something
was wrong. She said no.

- How was the apartment
furnished?
- Oh, it was just lovely.

Helen had beautiful
things. Very expensive.

How about friends?
Anybody come to visit her?

Oh, indeed. Helen is attractive.
She dated three, four times a week.

Never any trouble though.

Did you ever meet
any of her friends?

One boy in
particular. Real nice.

I thought for a while Helen
and he might get married.

- He'd know where she is, I bet.
- Do you have his name?

He was here just before Helen
moved out. Funny thing though.

What is, ma'am?

Well, he had
another girl with him.

The prettiest blonde I ever
laid eyes on, a real knockout.

Maybe that's why Helen left,
couldn't stand the competition.

- What was the blonde's name?
- Oh, I saw her. I never met her.

But you met the man?

Nice as he can be.
Good-looking too.

Works at the same
store Helen does.

- Summer's Department Store?
- Downtown.

His name is Fred Wayman.

5:30 p.m.

We returned to Summer's
Department Store.

- Still hardheaded, huh?
- Yeah, I've got to.

The wife's downstairs
buying the store out.

- Did you find Helen Zimmerman?
- No, sir. She moved two weeks
ago.

Two weeks. Yeah,
I remember that.

She took the day off, said her
folks were flying in from back East.

- Is Fred Wayman around?
- Why?

Well, he and the Zimmerman
girl have been seeing each other.

Maybe he can tell us something.

Well, while you're at
it, ask him about these.

- What do you got here?
- A few more bombs from the
auditors.

They had me check some more salesman's
tissues from the store in West L.A.

I figured I better
you fellas handle it.

Living room furniture, TV stereo
combination, 16mm camera and projector.

- Look at the dates.
- Third week in May.

- Two months ago.
- Check the names.

- All of them start
with M, N, O, or P.
- Wayman's accounts.

- $4,000 worth of merchandise.
- Is Wayman here?

He left at five o'clock.

Did you check his
files for those bills?

As soon as the door
slammed behind him.

- Wayman is a forger, has to be.
- How is that, sir?

According to his records,
every one of those accounts has

requested a new credit card
within the last few months.

My correspondence with the credit
card company doesn't list one of them.

How many of these items
have been posted and billed?

- None of them.
- Not a single item?

Not a single solitary
item on that list.

5:45 p.m.

Wayman's personnel file
listed his home address

as 1761 Pinto Street
in East Los Angeles.

We suspected he
might have moved.

I called his listed number.

- No answer?
- Disconnected.

- How late's the store
open at night?
- Nine o'clock.

People up here used to
go home at 5:00 though.

Once in a while we
work a little overtime.

Can we look at those files now?

I'm almost afraid to.

- This is kind of interesting.
- What do you got?

Proposed sales contract for
$3,200 approved six days ago.

- Are those Wayman's initials?
- F.W., right.

- Proposed contract for what?
- Bedroom furniture.

Martinson, Pasadena,
old preferred account.

Last purchase, eight months ago.

- Something else here too.
- I see it.

Request for a new credit card.

- Moved into West L.A.
- I think I'll pull this one.

- Why not give this Mr. Martinson
a ring?
- A couple of reasons.

First of all, a lot of people resent it
especially the old preferred accounts.

They think we ought
to know them by sight.

Henderson, the guy we talked
to this morning was an exception.

The biggest reason though is that it
shakes customer confidence in the store.

We asked him in about his credit card
and he might get the idea we're confused.

Can I help you find
something, Mr. Williams?

- Hi, Steve. What's keeping you
so late?
- I had a big day.

- I got about two weeks behind.
- Houseman, isn't it?

Yes, sir. We talked
briefly this morning.

- How well do you know Fred
Wayman.
- Pretty good. Why?

- Don't tell me you're going to
jail him too.
- What do you mean "too"?

A rumor is going around you got
Helen Zimmerman locked up already.

Wayman wasn't kidding
about that jungle drum.

- Pardon me?
- Did you ever visit Wayman's
home over on Pinto Street?

- Pinto Street? Where is that?
- East L.A.

Wayman lives clear over
on the other side of town.

Where over in the
other side of town?

11470 Ocean Drive, West L.A.

- Are you sure?
- I ought to be.

I drive him to work
three mornings a week.

And when you don't, I do.

Hello, Helen.

I used to anyhow. Hello,
Mr. Williams, gentlemen.

What's the matter,
boss? Surprised?

Well, yes, as a matter of fact.

Not nearly as much as I
am. I was halfway to Mexico.

- All right, Ms. Zimmerman.
- I know. A friend of mine is a
cop.

You're going to
read me my rights.

- Yes, ma'am.
- Go ahead.

If acting stupid's a crime,
I ought to get 20 years.

6:15 p.m.

Helen Zimmerman waived her right to have
an attorney present during questioning.

We talked to her in the
credit manager's office.

Fred and I have been dating since
the day he got her, six months ago.

You know me, old eager beaver.

No, ma'am, we wouldn't know.

That's true. Anyhow,
in April we got engaged.

Fred asked me
to keep it a secret.

It killed me but I
didn't tell a soul.

- Two weeks ago, I gave him his
ring back.
- You want to tell us about it?

It all started a couple of months ago when
Fred figured he owned me, body and soul.

He told me about
the credit cards,

how he forged Mr. Williams' name on letters
to the company that makes the cards.

He did the same thing back
in Missouri, a store in St. Louis,

and when his boss got suspicious,
Fred figured it was time to migrate.

- What did he ask you to do?
- The same thing he was doing,
only in my files.

He said it wouldn't look so hot if all
the action was under M, N, O, and P.

How did he pick his accounts?

Preferred customers only
especially if they didn't shop too often,

- less likely to be recognized.
- All right. Then what?

Well, next he'd phony up a letter saying
the customer wanted a new credit card,

the guy lost it or was
moving or whatever.

Then came the letter to
the credit card company.

You ought to see Fred do
your signature, Mr. Williams.

I could hardly wait.

When one of your girls passed around the
new cards to the supervisors for mailing,

Fred had put the
phonies in his pocket.

That's where you goofed, boss.

The girls never
bothered to check the new

cards against your
real correspondence file.

The system's has
just been changed.

Well, that's about
all there is to it.

When Fred bought things
or had somebody buy them,

he watched for the incoming
sales slips and got rid of them.

Any questions?

- Yes, ma'am, we have a few.
- I can anticipate a couple,
okay.

Number one, I kept my mouth
shut because I loved the guy.

I refused to help him
but I couldn't turn him in.

I thought I could
straighten him out.

Can you understand
that, Sergeant?

Maybe. What happened
two weeks ago?

Fred came to my apartment.

Your furnished apartment?

Everything I own I
got from my parents.

They're loaded and
I'm an only child.

All right. Go on, Ms. Zimmerman.

Fred walked in like
he owned the joint.

He had a blonde on his arm,
pretty enough to hate on sight.

Fred introduced me
as his new assistant.

- What was the blonde's name?
- Barbara Henderson. Temporarily,
that is.

Fred said from then on we'd be
working together, Blondie and me.

She'd do the shopping
and I tear up the bills.

If I didn't go along,
Fred would tear me up.

- I told him to get out.
- Then what happened?

Fred got tough, like cute
little fun and games delinquent.

He said if I called
the cops or if I didn't

get rid of the right
sales slips, he'd kill me.

- Was that why you moved?
- That's right.

- Does Wayman know your new
address?
- No, sir.

First, I just planned
to drop out of sight.

Then I got mad.

I decided to come back
to work in spite of Fred.

I checked the Henderson file.

There was the letter in Fred's
handwriting requesting a new

credit card for Henderson's
daughter, blonde, 25 years old.

The letter said Henderson was
moving to 11470 Ocean Drive.

- I got scared all over again.
- What did you do?

I shook a lot.

Three days later, the sales slip
came in for a $1,200 mink stole.

Fred could tell it
just by looking at me.

He came over and he spoke to me for
the first time since he left my apartment.

- What did he say to you?
- He gave me a choice.

I could tear up the sales
slip or make a reservation.

A reservation where?

The cemetery.

We drove Ms. Zimmerman
home and instructed

her to remain available
for further questioning.

7:30 p.m.

Apartment 107, 11470
Ocean Drive, we rang a bell.

There was no answer.

7:40 p.m.

We notified Captain Frankel that we were
staking out the Wayman apartment house.

10:30 p.m.

Wayman, alias George Henderson,
had still not returned to his apartment.

I wonder when they don't air
condition in lobbies in these places.

- How's your stomach?
- I can't feel it anymore.

It might be a good idea to start
that diet you're always talking about.

- Worst thing you can do, Joe.
- Dieting?

Why sure on an empty stomach.

11:45 p.m.

Still no sign of the suspect.

Have you ever wished you'd gone
into some other line of work, Joe?

I guess we all have, haven't we?

Take now, for instance. At
home, the kids are in bed.

The house is quiet.

My wife is just
sitting like we are.

Yeah.

Years ago, when I sit like this didn't
seem to bother me. Now, I hate them.

Well, you're older
and smarter, pal.

Older maybe and not smarter.

Now the Fred Waymans
are stealing from me.

Stealing what?

The most precious thing
in the world, Joe, time.

Hey, what are you
guys doing here?

- We want to talk to you, Wayman.
- Why not? I got the wildest pad
in town.

- Will that do?
- That'll do.

- You waiting long?
- Nope.

- Just put my gal on a plane for
Vegas.
- Is that so?

- I told you, didn't I?
- Not bad, huh?

Yeah, nice place.

- All right, Wayman.
- Fred.

Fred, you're under arrest
for grand theft and forgery.

- Oh, you're putting me on?
- I'm gonna advise you of your
rights.

You have the right
to remain silent.

If you gave up the
right to remain silent,

anything you say can and will
be used against in the court of law.

You have the right to
speak with an attorney

and have the attorney
present during questioning.

If you so desire and
cannot afford one,

an attorney will be appointed for
you without charge before questioning.

- Now, do you understand that?
- I understand and forget the
attorney.

I'm perfectly capable of representing
myself. My father is a lawyer.

My grandfather is a lawyer and
his father was a barrister in England.

But you're a clerk.

A well-read clerk, my friend,
who hasn't got a thing to hide.

- Care for a drink?
- No, thanks.

Well, since you haven't got anything to
hide, you won't mind if we look around.

Well, not at all. What
do you want to see first?

It's a nice looking TV stereo.

- Beauty, huh?
- Paid for, I suppose.

That will be just as soon
as they send me the bill.

Where did you buy it,
at the West L.A. Store?

- Yeah, why?
- Whose name did you charge it
under?

Henderson. Any law against that?

Joe, pretty fancy
looking bedroom.

Beautiful bedroom.

That partner of yours
has got real good taste.

Barbara did it all
herself. Real talent, huh?

Yeah. Nice furniture, isn't it?

This should be
Martinson of Pasadena.

Check your statutes, Friday. A person
can call himself anything they like.

But you and Barbara
liked Martinson?

I didn't. Barbara did.

I see. You didn't sign for
anything. Is that the idea?

Not for one stick of furniture in
the joint, here or any place else.

There goes your case, right?

- How many other apartments have
you furnished?
- Three.

For three beautiful friends.

Tell us about Helen
Zimmerman, Fred.

- What do you mean?
- Tell us about her.

Helen is a psycho. She's a
dummy. I'll prove it in court.

Why, Wayman?

Because she refused to
live in your mink-lined gutter?

What about this locked suitcase?

You got no right
to open that bag.

- Show me a search warrant.
- Check your statutes, Wayman.

You are arrested
inside your apartment.

A search is being made
incidental to your arrest.

The key clasp Clarence Darell.

Hey, look, you guys. We're all
gentlemen. We're all familiar with the law.

Now, there ought to be a
way we can get together.

I've got a lot of
loot. Do you dig?

$100,000 worth of merchandise.

I turned a lot of it for cash.
Take some and leave some.

We'll pass.

Credit cards, Los
Angeles, St. Louis, Missouri.

Winters there are lousy.

Sales slips, Pasadena, West L.A.

Yeah, I hung onto
those. They're research.

- Research for what?
- My book, in the back pocket.

It's almost ready
for the publishers.

"Famous Swindlers at
Large" by Frederick Wayman.

Yeah, a part of it
is autobiographical.

What part is that?

Chapter 19, the last one
in the book. That's me.

"If the criminal is clever and I
imaginative enough, crime can pay.

He need never get caught."

Good line, huh?

- You got a publisher in mind?
- Yeah, why?

- Well, you'd better send them a
note.
- What do I tell them?

He just lost Chapter 19.

The suspect was found
guilty of forgery and grand theft.

Punishable by
imprisonment in the State

Penitentiary for a period
from one to 14 years.

The suspect was found
guilty of forgery and grand theft.

The suspect appeared
as a witness for the state

against all
defendants in this case.