Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to see is true.
The names have been changed to protect the innocent.
This is the city.
Steel, wood and stone.
It's a big animal with a big appetite.
It takes a lot to keep it going.
You waste a lot, you use a lot.
600,000 kilowatt hours every day.
It's carried in over high voltage lines from Boulder Dam, 400 miles away.
They pipe in the water from the high Sierras.
The city swallows up a half a million gallons every 24 hours.
And there's the business of transportation.
Some of it's handled this way.
Street cars and buses carry a million paying customers every day.
In my job, the customers ride for nothing.
I'm a cop.
It was Thursday, November 28th.
It was raining in Los Angeles.
We were working the night watch out a homicide.
My partner's Ed Jacobs.
The boss is Captain Lorman.
My name's Friday.
It was 1135 p.m.
And we got to 1640 Norwich Avenue.
The call had come in from the superintendent of nurses, Mercy Hospital.
According to her, nobody seemed to know how it happened.
The hospital nursery was left unattended for 90 seconds.
In those 90 seconds, a newly born baby was taken from his crib.
We didn't know who'd taken him.
We didn't know.
There was only one question in our minds.
How long could a three-day-old baby survive in the hands of a kidnapper?
We checked with a nurse on duty, and she took us down the hall to Dr. Walsh's office,
chief of staff of Mercy Hospital.
This is my partner, Sergeant Jacobs.
How do you do?
My name's Friday, Central Homicide.
I just got here a few moments ago myself.
I'm afraid I don't know too much about it.
Well, we were notified a three-day-old baby's missing.
Is that right?
Yes, one of the Stryker twins.
They were just born Tuesday morning.
Where'd the baby disappear from, doctor?
The nursery.
Can't understand that hospitals never had anything like this before.
Well, who was in charge of the nursery when the baby disappeared?
Nurse O'Connor.
She's back with the superintendent of nurses, quite upset.
I suppose you'd like to talk to her.
Yes, sir, we would.
This way, please.
I just can't understand it.
I never heard of such a thing.
How could a baby disappear like that?
Have the parents been notified?
The father's on his way in now.
We haven't told them yet.
This way.
When did they first notice the baby was gone?
I understand it was around 11 p.m.
Sergeant, go ahead, doctor.
The nurse who was on duty when the baby disappeared.
She told us she came on duty about 11 p.m.
She said that the baby must have been taken between 11 o'clock and 1110.
She said she'd stepped down the hall about 10 feet to answer the telephone.
Her mother had been ill.
And when she got back, the baby was gone.
We asked her if she could see the nursery door when she answered the phone.
She couldn't.
She told us that she couldn't think of anyone who was around the hospital at that time of night
who could have taken the Stryker twin.
We asked to see the nursery.
We asked if all the visitors had left the hospital before the time the Stryker baby was reported missing.
According to the superintendent of nurses they had.
Nurse O'Connor told us that the baby's blanket was also missing.
She told us all her blankets were stenciled Mercy Hospital.
Ed and I checked and found the only way the abductor could have gotten in and taken the baby
was through the door at the right.
Dr. Walsh told us that after 10 p.m. only the main entrance to the hospital remained open
and that there was a nurse on duty there at all times.
Midnight. A three-day-old baby was missing from his crib in the hospital nursery.
That's all we knew.
How did it happen? Why did it happen?
We counted the possibilities.
The baby could have been taken for ransom.
Somebody wanted revenge on the Stryker family and decided on the baby as the best means.
Maybe somebody just wanted a child.
Somebody mentally unsound. A maniac. A deviant.
Maybe an accident at the hospital.
Somebody wanted to cover up. Possibly one of the parents or their families had a motive.
Maybe somebody just wanted the child dead.
We checked the office. Got an APB on the Stryker baby and a description of the blanket and clothing.
Details were alerted at the bus depots, railroad terminals, the airports, all public transportation facilities.
Steps were taken to notify doctors, hospitals, sanitariums,
anybody and any place where a three-day-old baby might be taken.
The entire area around Mercy Hospital was canvassed.
No further information.
The baby's crib was dusted for prints. No leads. No physical evidence.
The investigation continued.
When George Stryker, the father of the missing baby, arrived, Ed and I talked to him in Dr. Walsh's office.
We asked him if any member of his family or one of his friends could have had any reason to remove one of his twins from the hospital.
He told us no.
He gave us his assurance that in case anybody should contact him regarding money for the return of his baby,
he would notify us immediately.
Hi. Hi.
Want to have a look back here? I think we got something.
What's that?
Gill and I were with a night watchman out and back. The side of the hospital faces on Stacey Avenue.
There's two doors there. They both face on the street.
Yeah.
And one of them's open. Come on.
Together with Olivas and his partner, Gill Encinas, we went back and examined the side door which faced on Stacey Avenue.
The latch was obviously faulty. It took only a slight pressure to open it.
We traced an imaginary path from the open door to the nursery.
Well, there wasn't much doubt about it.
It could have been possible for an abductor to enter the hospital, make his way to the nursery,
take the baby from his crib in the absence of the nurse, and leave by the same door without having been seen.
The door and latch were wet. It was impossible to get prints.
The entranceway and the immediate area were rechecked.
Storekeepers and residents along Stacey Avenue were requestioned.
We got nowhere.
When the abduction story broke the next morning in the papers, the calls started to come in.
People in every section of the city thought they'd seen the missing baby.
Each call was carefully checked out. None of them paid off.
10 a.m. We got back to the office.
I must be getting old, Joe. I can't seem to take those all-night sessions like I used to.
Yeah, I'm pretty tired, too. I don't know, I think I drank too much coffee again.
Me, too. Sour stock.
Hi, fellas.
Hi.
Has Statt's office come up with that run for us yet?
No, they're still working on it.
It's starting to rain again outside.
You said night dismissed it, huh?
Yeah.
How'd that San Badoo call?
Oh, they called back. They picked up the woman when she got off the bus.
They checked her and the baby out. She lives in San Badoo, and the baby belongs to her.
Nothing else, huh?
No, all checked out. See you later, huh? Come on, Gil.
We'll see.
Is Sergeant Friday in here?
Yes, sir. Come on in.
They told me the business office to come down to see you.
Yes, come right in, sir.
Thanks.
My name is Wallace. I'm a desk clerk down at the hotel on 11th Street, Bluebird Hotel.
Yes, sir.
I got some information that I'd like to talk to you.
All right, sir. This is my partner, Sergeant Jacobs.
How do you do?
Good to know.
What's the information about Wallace?
Well, I got hold of a paper this morning, read about that baby missing.
I imagine those people are pretty worried about the kid.
I guess they'd like to get all the information they can.
Yes, sir, they would.
Looks like that hospital's in a jam, wouldn't you say?
What's the information about, Wallace?
I guess those parents could sue the hospital if they wanted to, I suppose.
Well, now, all we're interested in is finding the baby. Can you help us there?
I don't know for sure.
What are you trying to tell us? Have you seen the baby?
Well, I may have. Do you happen to know if they're offering any reward for information?
Well, I don't know where it would come from. The father's a working man.
Now, don't get me wrong, Sergeant, I don't expect anything for any information I give, but, well, I don't make too much at the hotel, you know.
If they wanted to show their gratitude in some way, just thought I'd mention it, they might want to thank me in some way.
Yeah, well, they'll thank you, Wallace. Don't worry about that. Now, what's the information?
Well, you know, I didn't mean anything by that. Anybody be glad to help out in a case like this.
What I come to tell you is a woman and a young baby checked in the hotel last night when I was on duty.
What time did they check in?
I think it was about midnight. The woman didn't have any baggage or anything.
One little blanket around the kid. When I saw that story in the paper this morning, I got suspicious.
Was the woman still registered at the hotel?
She was when I left. That was about an hour ago.
What name did she register under, you remember?
No, I don't, but it's in the register. You can check if you want to.
Where is the hotel?
Eleventh and Charleston, right on the corner. I'm sure it must be the kid you're looking for.
Say, I hope you haven't got me wrong.
How do you mean?
Oh, about the reward, you know. I don't expect anything. You have to be a heel to take money for this.
Hope you haven't got me wrong, huh?
No, sir, we haven't got you wrong.
1035 a.m. Together with the desk clerk Wallace, we drove to the Bluebird Hotel on 11th Street.
We checked the cards at the desk and found the woman had registered under the name of Mrs. Harold Parks.
The clerk on duty told us, as far as he knew, she was still in the room.
It's a great place to bring a three-day-old baby, isn't it?
Well, at least it's dry out of the rain.
This way, Sergeant.
Fisher did.
You want to try it again? Maybe she's asleep.
Mrs. Parks? Mrs. Parks?
You got that pass key there?
Yes.
All right.
Nobody here.
Ed, you want to check in there?
All right.
Ed.
Yeah, nothing here.
What do you got there?
Have a look.
Friday, November 29th, 11 a.m.
We were unable to locate the woman who had registered at the hotel under the name of Mrs. Parks.
There was no sign of the baby.
The blanket we found in the room was identified by hospital personnel as the same type used in the nursery.
The room was checked for fingerprints and any other physical evidence.
We found nothing.
People in adjoining rooms were questioned, but they could give us no information.
The desk clerk gave us a description of the woman who used the name Mrs. Parks, and we got out an all-points bulletin on her.
Her hotel registration card was checked for handwriting and fingerprints.
Captain Lorman ordered an immediate canvas of all hotels, apartments, and rooming houses in the central area.
Three p.m. Friday. The search went on.
Yeah.
Yeah, checked out all right.
Okay, Tom, thanks.
D'Amelie?
Brian, check out that Wilshire call. Another phoning.
Hi, fellas.
Hi.
I might have something for you, fellas.
Yeah.
Gil and I were making the rounds of the hotel's out-of-long Pico.
We stopped at a drug store for a cup of coffee just two blocks from the hotel where the woman with the baby stayed.
Druggus told us a woman who looks like this Mrs. Parks came in around 1.30 a.m., bought a whole raft of stuff.
What kind of stuff?
Baby things. Bottles, diapers, dextrose, oil, powder. You know, all that stuff.
Are you sure of the woman's description?
He gave us the woman's description before we'd even mentioned what this Mrs. Parks looked like, right down to the color of her coat.
Would she have the baby with her when she bought that stuff?
Druggus said no. She even asked him if she could buy a quart of milk from the drug store fountain.
Asked the Druggus to warm it up for her.
Does he have any idea where the woman came from, where she went?
No, but he said if she came back in again, he'd call us right away.
He's going to notify the other clerks and they'll keep us posted if anything turns up.
I'll get it.
Homicide Friday.
Yes, ma'am.
How's that?
Ah, yes. Could you all on just a moment, please?
You got a pencil, eh?
Yeah.
Thank you.
Yes, go ahead.
Yes, ma'am.
Uh-huh.
I see.
Two, three, four. Uh-huh.
All right, yes, ma'am. Yes, right away. Thank you very much.
Another one?
Sounds good.
Woman in the Echo Park district. She's got some neighbors named a Salazar.
Yeah?
She says Mrs. Salazar brought a baby home with her last night. She swears it isn't their baby.
What makes you so sure?
Well, she said the Salazars have dark hair, dark eyes. Both have dark complexions.
What's wrong with that?
Well, the baby she brought home is blonde.
Come on, let's go.
Ed and I got in the car and drove to the Echo Park district.
This could be the real thing or it could be like a hundred other calls we'd received in the last 12 hours.
When Ed and I arrived at the Salazar home on Wonderland Avenue, we noticed several other cars parked in front of the house.
Yes, sir. Come in, please.
We'd like to speak to Mr. Salazar.
Yes, sir. That's me. Come on in.
Come on inside. Let me fix you a drink.
You're late, huh?
Want to take a hat?
No, thank you. We're police officers, Mr. Salazar. I'd like to ask you a few questions.
Oh, what's the matter? We making too much noise for the neighbors?
No, it's not that, sir. I'd just like to ask you a few questions.
Is there someplace where we can talk?
Well, I have to take care of the guests. You know, we have this party here.
My son was baptized today. My first son. That's why we're having a party.
Well, we're sorry to interrupt, Mr. Salazar. It's pretty important. Won't take very long.
Well, all right. I guess they can get along for a few minutes.
Back in the kitchen, probably the quietest place.
This way.
Papa, ¿dónde te vas? Venga aquí. Te chamo mucho de menos.
I miss you, too. You go ahead. Have a good time. I'll be there in a minute.
Muy bien, papa. Muy bien, papa.
We're having a very nice party. You sure you won't have a drink?
No sir, no thanks.
We talked with the husband, Frank Salazar, for 35 minutes.
He told us that his wife, Roberta, gave birth to their baby in Arizona and came back by plane a few minutes after 3 a.m. this morning.
We asked to talk to Mrs. Salazar and he said she was taking a nap and would be down shortly.
We asked to see the baby.
There he is. Big fella, huh?
Yeah.
What do you think, Joe?
I think he's got a twin.
At 5 p.m., Harlan Stahl of Leighton Prince arrived at the Salazar home.
The footprints of the missing child taken at the time of birth were compared with the prints from the child the Salazars had.
They were identical.
5.20 p.m., Ed and I talked with Mrs. Salazar.
I don't think I understand what this is all about, officers. What has my baby got to do with all this?
You know it as well as we do, Mrs. Salazar. That baby in there, it doesn't belong to you. It's not yours.
What do you mean it's not mine? Of course it's my baby, my husband's, and mine.
I just brought it from Phoenix last night. That's where the baby was born.
What are you trying to do to me?
That baby isn't yours, Mrs. Salazar. You know that. It was taken from the hospital. Now how about the truth?
You don't know what you're saying. You don't know what you're talking about.
It's my baby. He was baptized today. He went to my Salazar.
Well, this is a pretty serious matter, ma'am. The baby's footprints have been checked out.
The child belongs to a Mrs. Stryker. We want to know how you happen to have him.
A woman checked in at the Bluebird Hotel on 11th Street about midnight last night, Mrs. Salazar.
She had a young baby with her. You fit the description.
I didn't go to a hotel last night. The plane landed here from Phoenix. I came right home.
The hotel clerk remembers you. He can identify you, so can the druggist, the one you bought the supplies from.
We found the baby's blanket in the hotel room you rented. We have your description from at least three people.
Even the color of the coat you wore last night.
Now, look, Mrs. Salazar, why don't you put yourself in the place of the real mother of the baby?
How do you think she feels about her baby being taken away?
Mrs. Salazar?
It's going to rain some more.
Rain is nice, isn't it, officers?
We thought it might spoil the party, but it didn't.
All right. I'll tell you.
I'm tired.
I know you'll understand.
Yes, ma'am.
Eleven years next month, Frank and I were married.
I don't have to tell you, we want a baby.
Frank always wanted a baby, but no more than I did.
It's what we live for, a baby of our own.
Yes, ma'am.
Boy or girl, we didn't care.
But we didn't have one.
For eleven years, we've been living in a world
where for eleven years we didn't have one.
Then last February, the doctor told me,
he said I was going to have a baby.
I was going to have a baby.
Frank was so happy he didn't know what to do.
It's like that, you know, Sergeant, when you look for something for so long.
Yes, ma'am, I understand.
A month before the baby was born,
we thought it would be better if I went to my friend's place in Phoenix, Arizona, for the winter.
It's warmer there, you know.
Frank thought it would be nicer for me and the baby.
A week ago from today, that's when my baby was born.
Frank's baby and mine.
Your husband was still in Los Angeles?
Yes. He tried to come to Phoenix, but he had to work.
So I had my baby alone.
It was a boy.
My friend was with me.
She'll tell you it was a boy.
Yes, ma'am.
I remember waking up and calling for them.
I kept calling for them to bring my baby.
It was a long time, and I kept calling.
I wanted to see my baby.
I don't know how long it was, but the room was dark all the time, and I kept calling.
Then they finally came, and the doctor too.
And he's the one that told me.
The room was dark, I remember.
The shades were dark.
He said my baby was dead.
He just said the baby was dead, and he just didn't know why.
The baby was dead.
Yes, ma'am.
He looked just like his father. I know that.
But they told me he was dead.
I don't remember much after that.
I got out of the hospital, then I took the plane and came back here.
It was dark, and it was raining, but I walked around.
I walked up and down.
I was thinking what I could tell Frank.
What was there I could tell him.
The baby was dead, that's all I could say.
Then I walked past the hospital.
I walked into the little courtyard, and I could look up and see the babies in the nursery through the big window.
It was Mercy Hospital, ma'am?
Yes, and it was raining.
And I could see all the babies inside, warm and in their cribs.
And I wanted just one of them.
Just one.
I went in the side door and I found the nursery.
When the nurse was gone, I took him and left.
My baby.
I went to the hotel to keep him out of the rain.
I cleared a little, I took him home.
I took him home to Frank.
I took my baby home.
That's why you want my baby, isn't it?
Because I took him.
Because my baby died, and I took him.
Everything will be all right, Mrs. Salazar.
I think we can straighten it out.
Frank, what could I say to you?
Be all right, won't it?
Will it be all right?
Yes, I think we can straighten it out.
What was there I could say to you, Frank?
It'll be all right, honey.
It'll be all right.
I guess I'll go out and tell the people now.
And what can you say to them?
What can you tell them?
A mistake.
The party's over.
It was just a mistake.
The ninth trial was held in Superior Court, Department 89, City and County of Los Angeles, State of California.
In a moment, the results of that trial.
The suspect was examined by five different psychiatrists appointed by the court and found to be under an acute mental strain.
The trial was held in Superior Court, Department 89, City and County of Los Angeles, State of California.
The end.