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Drag me.
Ladies and gentlemen, the story you're about to hear is true.
The names have been changed to protect the innocent.
You're a detective sergeant.
You're assigned a bunco fugitive detail.
A secretary tells you her employer has suddenly left town.
He says he's taken all the company records with him.
Your job?
Check it out.
It was Monday, May 18th.
It was cloudy in Los Angeles.
We were working the day watch out of bunco fugitive detail.
My partner's Frank Smith, the boss's captain, Didian.
My name's Frank.
We're on our way back from lunch and it was 146 pm when we got to room 38.
Bunco fugitive.
Sergeant Frank?
That's right.
They told me to see you.
Yes, ma'am. It's my partner, Frank Smith.
How do you do?
Good afternoon.
My name is Givens.
Claire Givens.
Do you like to sit down there?
Thank you.
All right.
Well?
Yes, ma'am.
It isn't anything when you put your finger on it.
At least it isn't anything I'm sure of.
It wasn't even my idea.
Coming to the police.
Mama said I.
I mean, my mother advised me to discuss this matter with you.
Honestly?
She's always claimed there was something funny about my job.
She said this just goes to prove it.
I'm sure she's mistaken.
Sure, Mr. Orleans wouldn't do anything wrong.
Mr. Orleans?
Oh, he's my boss.
My employer, Henry Orleans.
The thing is, he's disappeared.
Yeah.
All of a sudden.
I went to see him last.
Friday.
Friday, even when I left off, it was 5 p.m.
Have you checked with his home?
I don't know where he lives.
He never told him.
I see.
He's never gone out of town before.
Not since I started working for him.
How long has that been?
Seven months.
Seven months on the third.
What kind of business is he in?
Uranium.
Uranium stock.
Multiple Uranium investments incorporated.
That's the name of his company.
I see.
Well, don't the other employees have any idea or he went?
There aren't any other employees.
I'm the only one.
Oh, I see.
Have you talked to missing persons?
No.
No, haven't.
You see, Mama doesn't think he's missing.
She says he skipped out that he's a crook.
Does your mother know this, Mr. Orleans?
Only what I've told her about him.
They've never met.
She's been suspicious from the very beginning, though.
Better go follow him.
Well, it's...
Well, it's kind of hard to explain.
How's that?
You see, the thing is, Mama just can't understand why he ever hired me.
Hmm?
The employment office sent me to see him.
Along with seven or eight other secretaries.
Mr. Orleans ticked me out from all the rest.
Well, there's something strange in that.
Well, the truth is, I'm not much of a stenographer.
Not a real good one that is.
I get kind of nervous whenever I have to take dictation.
My tapence just fair, too.
I could do real clean coffee if they'd just let me take my time.
But they never do.
Is that right?
Except for Mr. Orleans.
He doesn't rush me or get me all upset.
It's the first time I've ever been able to hang on to a job.
Pays off well good.
$20 a week more than I ever and before.
That's all.
Mama couldn't believe it when I told her.
She said there's a catch to it someplace.
Mm-hmm.
Be different if I...
Well, if I wasn't plain.
Two or three of the other girls who tried out from Mr. Orleans.
They were very drafted and they all had nice clothes.
Mama sure was surprised when I told her he'd picked me.
There's a catch to it somewhere. That's how she put it.
He's up to something and he wants a secretary who's not too bright.
Well, I'm afraid I need more than that to start an investigation, Miss Gibbons.
Yes, sir. I see.
Well, thank you very much.
Just a minute. Does he owe you any back wages?
Oh, no. No, I'm paid up a month in the stands.
Mm-hmm.
That was another thing that seemed funny.
I mean, when you think about it now, it seems funny.
What do you mean?
Might be in with him less than a year and him wanting me to take a vacation with pay a whole month off.
How did they come about?
Well, it was just last week.
Oh, Monday.
A week go today when he brought up the subject.
He said it was getting on towards summer and I'll start thinking about where I wanted to go on my vacation.
Yeah.
I told him I didn't feel entitled to a vacation yet.
He just smiles and said it was up to him to decide that.
But he is the boss, wasn't he?
And he insisted I tell him just where I wanted to go.
I couldn't think of any place at all.
He finally asked me why I didn't visit my sister in Hawaii.
Lately.
She's married to a Navy officer stationed in Haululu.
I guess I must have mentioned heard, Mr. Rona.
I guess that's what I knew about her.
Yes, ma'am, I speak.
But the idea of ever paying her visit hadn't even crossed my mind.
Why try to argue with him?
But he pretended to get mad and told me if I was a good enough secretary to deserve a holiday, he's going to see it.
I got it.
When he said he'd make up for it when I got back that he'd really pour the work on.
I knew he wasn't serious about pouring the work on.
But it did seem like he really wanted me to go to Hawaii.
But why didn't you take him up on it?
Well, I meant to.
I had him take it.
Round trip flight.
Mr. Rona paid for it just like he said in wood.
Yeah.
I was supposed to leave Saturday night.
I said I had an air mail letter telling her all about the trip.
But that's my sister.
Ann Burcott.
Yeah.
Well, Saturday morning she wired me not to come.
Her husband's been transferred in a week or two.
But she wasn't sure where.
Maybe back to the States.
I see.
Oh, I suppose I could have made the trip anyway.
But it wouldn't be any fun going someplace where I didn't know anybody.
I don't make friends very easy.
That's all.
Why did I know just what to do?
Whether Mr. Rona would still want me to take the month off or not.
Went down to the office this morning to talk to him about it.
He wasn't there, everything was gone.
Yeah.
And the safe, all records and stock certificates, everything.
The corporation papers, he had framed up on the wall.
They were gone too.
Had somebody broken in?
I don't think so.
The door to the suit was locked when I got there.
I had my key.
What about safe?
I don't understand.
Well, was it safe?
Open it closed.
Toast.
Why would you have to look inside?
I'd telephone my mother and told her that Mr. Rona wasn't there.
And she said I'd better check and see if anything was missing.
Said it sounded to her like he'd skipped out.
Mm-hmm.
After I looked in the safe, she told me to get in touch with the police.
Well, not just exactly what sort of business was this uranium company.
Mr. Rona was invested in various uranium stocks.
For other people?
Yes, that's right.
Which bank did he use?
Western National.
They accounts in the main branch.
I'll give him a call, Jim.
I just wouldn't be any reason for him to run away with her.
Well, it's pretty hard to tell yet.
I mean, he's doing a real good business.
Well, I might be a reason.
Oh.
Do you know the names of his customers?
Well, the people who invested in Mr. Rona.
That's right.
Well, I guess I could remember some of them.
Books are gone, though.
Wouldn't be able to recall them all.
I see.
The old customers are ones who've been with us for several months.
I'd remember them.
Uh-huh.
Was the business mere when you started to work with them?
Yes, sir. A brand new.
Find out about me.
Yeah.
Orally enclosed out the mullible uranium bank account last Friday evening.
A little before six.
Six?
Yeah.
Banks stay open late on Friday, so you don't forget.
How much do you withdraw?
Just under $100,000.
You want the money?
Yeah.
I guess Mama was right about him.
Starting to look that way.
I shouldn't know.
From the beginning, I should've known.
What?
She's always right.
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Well, Frank put in the call to Sacramento to check on the corporate status of multiple uranium investments.
I ask Clara Gibbons to give me a detailed description of the suspect.
228 PM.
Sacramento reported that no such corporation had ever been authorized.
We ran the name Henry Orleans through R&I.
They had nothing on him.
We turned the description of an M.O. over to the stats office.
They came up with seven possible stock fraud artists.
We pulled their mug shots and showed them to Miss Gibbons.
She was unable to identify any of the pictures.
307 PM.
Miss Gibbons accompanied us to the window building on Lorscher Boulevard in the miracle mile.
We went up to sweet 4D.
Just a second till I find my key.
Yes, ma'am.
Here it is.
This is the outer office, where I work.
Mm-hmm.
That's his office in there?
Yes, sir.
Well, that's real fancy.
Have you talked to the building manager today?
No, sir.
Is he around, do you know?
Well, there isn't any manager.
Not exactly.
The owner has an office down the hall.
Oh.
I'll be glad to find out if he's in.
Thank you.
You'll be here?
Yes, ma'am.
Very impressive quarters, huh?
Must have been a very impressive guy.
Yeah.
Look at that, John.
I wonder what he had up there.
Huh?
On the wall. See that spot?
Looks like he used to be a picture or something.
Those incorporation papers may be, huh?
Phony?
I don't know.
As far as the state of California is concerned, the phony...
This is Mr. Wander.
Mr. Wander is Sergeant Friday.
How are you?
I do.
And this is...
I'm officer.
I don't think you remember your name.
Sorry, my name's Frank Smith.
Well, please to meet you.
This is our identification.
Let's see.
Forget it.
Well, you're the owner of this building, aren't you?
Well, it's the Wander building.
I'm Ted Wander.
Yes, sir.
Draw your own conclusions.
Yeah.
Do you have any objections to answering a few questions, Wander?
No.
All right, would you answer him for us, please?
I thought I was.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
I ask you one before you own this building.
All right.
That isn't important.
Well, it's important to me.
It's important to the mortgage company.
Is it in your name?
Yes, it's in my name.
All right, fine.
And what about the man who rented this suite?
All in?
Yes, sir.
For what about him?
Do you know he left town?
Well, she just told me.
Do you know about it before?
No.
What can you tell us about him?
He's a broker or something.
Uranium stocks, I guess.
We got that much.
That's all you know about him, huh?
Yeah.
How long has he met it from you?
I see.
A little over seven months.
Be eight on the third.
Did you know anything about where he had offices before?
No, he said he was from back east.
Any particular place?
No.
Why, what's he done?
We like to talk to him, that's all.
Well, maybe he'll come back.
Uh-huh.
Well, if he doesn't, it's all the same to me.
What?
I made him pay his rent in advance whole first year.
That's your usual practice?
No, only with fellas in the stock market.
You see, I remember 1929.
Yeah.
You never know what's going to happen up with fellas in the market.
You see, I remember 1929, yeah.
If all he stays away on way ahead of him,
Brent's paid up.
I'm nearly five months ahead of him.
Yes, sir.
I wish we were.
Ted Wendler confirmed Ms. Gibbons' description of the suspect
and insisted he could tell us nothing further about the man.
While a crew from the crime lab went over the offices,
we again questioned Clara Gibbons.
She gave us the names and addresses of some of the people
who'd invested money with Arleham.
4.48 p.m., the crime lab reported
that they'd been unable to discover
any useful fingerprints in the suite.
The only physical evidence they had uncovered
was a copy of a prospectus
which purported to list various securities owned
by multiple uranium investments.
It had fallen behind a filing cabinet.
The next day, May 19th,
Frank and I checked with several of the uranium companies
listed on the prospectus.
They all informed us that none of their stock
had ever been purchased by multiple uranium incorporated
or Henry Arleham.
3.13 p.m., Frank and I drill about to interview one of the victims.
Would you like to sit down?
Thank you.
Ms. Houston, do you know what man named Henry Arleham?
Yes.
Yes, I know. Why?
Did you ever invest any money with him?
5,000 dollars.
Nothing's happened to Mr. Arleham.
I'm not sure yet.
How'd you happen to give him the money?
It was some insurance. My husband left me.
Yes, ma'am.
I'd kept it in savings.
Didn't bring in much interest.
When I heard about Mr. Arleham's company.
Why would you care about it, ma'am?
At the hospital.
Ma'am?
St. Agnes Children's Hospital.
I spend a day a week there helping out in a charity rush.
I'm on some of the committees too.
You know, fundraising, things like that.
Yes, ma'am.
Oh, I'm not one of the big people behind the work.
But somebody has to get out and dig
for the little donations too.
Yes, ma'am, I do.
And I have quite a bit of free time now.
Do you remember who it was that first mentioned Mr. Arleham to you?
I think it was Mrs. Larrington.
Larrington?
Yes, Mrs. Arleham Larrington.
You must have heard of her.
She does so much charity work around town.
She's very prominent socially.
Yes, ma'am.
Just what did she say about Mr. Arleham's company?
Well, she wasn't talking to me exactly.
One afternoon, when she was showing some people
the plans for the new clinic,
I guess she was asking for some contributions.
That's how it sounded.
One of the ladies said it all depended on how well
her husband stalks did during the next quarter.
And Mrs. Larrington laughed and told her
her husband ought to be in multiple uranium.
But he wouldn't have anything to worry about.
Go on.
Oh, that was all I heard.
They went on the next room.
Afterwards, I got to thinking.
This uranium stock was good enough for Mrs. Larrington.
Maybe I ought to check into it.
You know, you're always hearing about people
making fortunes in uranium.
Well, I looked up the company and the phone book and talked to Mr. Arleham.
First, he wasn't very anxious for me to invest.
But when I told him I knew Mrs. Larrington,
he said he'd take me in as a favor to her.
Who was all this?
About four months ago.
Have you seen Mr. Arleham since?
No.
You heard from him?
Not directly.
I get a dividend check every month, though.
Stocks paying very well.
I figured it out.
On a yearly basis, it'll come to over 30%.
You can't do much better than that.
I told some of my friends about it, too,
so they could get in on it.
Well, thank you very much, ma'am.
You still haven't explained what this is all about.
Well, we're trying to get in touch with Mr. Arleham, that's all.
Well, the Wendler Building on World Shibullabar.
That's where his office is.
The Wendler Building.
Isn't it there?
No, it isn't.
I don't understand.
Arleham seems to have disappeared.
What about my money?
I'm afraid that went with him.
What that isn't possible.
He couldn't have.
Mrs. Larrington said it was a good stock.
Yes, ma'am.
We'll talk to her about it.
Well, you paid me dividends every month, good dividends.
Well, I wouldn't count on me more of them.
What?
Why I'll bring charges against him, I'll have input in jail.
He'll find out.
But that's all you need, isn't it?
Somebody to bring charges?
No, ma'am, not quite.
What do you mean?
We need him.
Frank and I left Mrs. Custis and drove out to interview another victim.
Mrs. J.T. pressing on Highland Avenue.
She told us that she had invested $8,000 in multiple uranium.
She also told us that she had first heard about the stock
to a friend who was on the fundraising committee for St. Agnes Hospital.
We interviewed three more victims.
All of them were in some way associated with the hospital,
or were acquainted with Mrs. Arleham.
8.45 p.m., we drove up to the Lawrence in the state in Bel Air.
A mage showed us into the library and said that Mrs. Larrington would see us in a few minutes.
Hey, Joe.
Yeah.
That's true.
Up there on the wall, a painting at Mrs. Larrington.
Yeah.
I saw it in the Sunday paper once.
Society page.
For real, I was the gosh artist, didn't I?
You don't say?
Hmm.
Probably fighters are a lot.
Maybe.
What's bound to?
We'll make you think something.
Well, it stands to reason, Joe.
All a person wants a good likeness, a photographer ought to do the trick.
Yeah.
Artists know that, too.
They do.
Mm-hmm.
The figures they want something else.
Want to look better, silly fighters.
Oh, I see.
That's the way it works.
Are you just waiting for me?
Mrs. Larrington?
That's right.
Or police officers.
As Frank Smith, my name's Friday.
Oh, hi.
I'm sure it's my husband you want to talk to.
Unfortunately, he's in San Francisco on a business trip.
No, ma'am.
We'd like to talk to you if you don't mind.
You know a man named Henry Orlean?
Orlean?
That's it, yeah.
Hmm.
It sounds familiar, but I need so many people.
It's hard to be certain.
Have you ever heard of a stock called Multiple Uranium Incorporated?
Oh, yes.
Yes, of course.
Well, I didn't associate the two for a moment.
That's Mr. Orlean's company, isn't it?
Yes, ma'am.
Do you have any money invested in that stock?
No, not me personally, but I can vouch for the company.
Is that what you want?
No.
You see, I'm on the fund raising committee for St. Agnes Hospital.
Matter fact, I'm the chairman.
Yes, ma'am.
We know.
And we do own some of Mr. Orlean's stock.
The hospital, that is.
Tell us how did you happen to buy it?
We didn't.
It was a donation.
Would you mind telling us from who?
No, not yet.
It's an Orlean himself.
Let's see.
When do you give it to you?
A last year, September.
Yes, September.
The chair is a bizarre.
I don't recall the exact date, but I can find out for you.
No, September's close enough.
Just what was this bizarre?
A party here at my home.
We opened the grounds of general public.
A garden party, an auction combined.
An auction?
Some of the most depicted people donated the items we sold
and all the money went to hospital.
We raised over $25,000.
But I'm not counting what Mr. Orlean gave us.
That's the stock donation.
That's right.
He congratulated me on the bizarre.
He seemed very interested in charity work.
I said we would certainly use his help
and he offered to do whatever he could.
Go ahead, please.
He said that unfortunately he couldn't give us cash at the moment.
He mumbled something about a tax problem.
I'm not ready to clear about those things.
Everyone who's having tax problems nowadays.
So instead of an outright gift,
he offered us a block of stock in his company.
I see.
Not just how much stock was involved.
500 shares.
I think there's something like that.
At any rate, he said the market value
of what he was giving us would be in the neighborhood of $10,000.
Did he tell you anything else about it?
Well, he didn't go into the details of his corporation
and I certainly didn't question him.
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.
That's right.
All I recall, he said his company own shares
and other uranium companies
so that the money was well diversified.
Now, was that all?
Yes, I believe so.
Except that he made one request.
What was it?
He asked me off to sell the stock for at least a year.
To give you a reason?
Oh, yes.
He said that within a year's time
it would double in market value.
And in the meantime,
the hospital would be receiving extra dividends.
I see.
No matter back the dividends
it wouldn't be remarkable.
Mm-hmm.
Something like 500 dollars a month
I believe our treasure told me
that the Arlean must be a very assured investor.
Did you ever discuss this uranium stock
with any of your friends and students?
My guess once or twice.
One of our committee meetings
when we were going over the books
we were surprised at the return it was paying us.
We all talked about it then.
I suppose I may have mentioned it soon.
Mm-hmm.
Just in conversation.
Yes, ma'am.
Is Mr. Arlean not sent
that I told other people about his company?
I didn't know he wanted to get the secret.
I only wanted you to tell him.
Well, then.
Several people that you discussed
multiple uranium with invested in the company as a result.
It's a perfectly sound investment.
No, ma'am.
What?
Arlean has disappeared
and so is their money.
I'm sure your mistake.
The stock he sold him was phony.
So was the stock he gave your hospital fund.
It couldn't be.
Look at the dividends it paid.
It was just good advertising.
You mean he used the hospital?
He used me.
I'm afraid so.
Well, I just don't know what to say.
I've never been involved in a situation like this before.
Yes, ma'am.
It's terribly distressing.
Oh, I know it's not my fault, but I can't help thinking
I should have been more careful, more discreet.
Well, I'm sorry, ma'am.
I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me.
I don't feel like talking anymore.
I'm very upset.
A ninja will show you out.
We'll find a way.
Let's go.
Oh.
I was just looking at that painting up there again.
No, I was right, Joe.
Hmm?
Platter here.
The interview with Mrs. Lawrenceon had enabled us to establish the suspect's MO.
Additional bulletins were sent out alerting all police departments, charity organizations, and fundraising committees.
During the rest of the week, we interviewed other victims of the stock swindler.
None of them could furnish any additional information about the whereabouts of the man called himself Henry Orleans.
Three weeks later, on June 9th, we received a report from the Chicago Police Department.
They informed us that a man answering Orleans' description had worked in oil stock swindler in that city during the previous year.
He had then used the name of Roger Norge.
They also told us that this Norge was suspected of an earlier stock swindler in Kansas City.
Neither the Chicago nor Kansas City police had a positive identification with the suspect.
But in both cities, the MR would have been the same.
The suspect had donated a block of phony stock to a charitable organization.
It paid very high dividends on the donated shares, and then it had been able to acquire investments from private persons.
Wednesday, June 11th, 317 PM, Frank and I were in the office.
Sergeant Pratt.
Yes, ma'am.
You remember me?
Clara Gibbons.
I used to work here.
Yes, ma'am.
How are you?
What can we do for you?
Mama just found it.
Mama just found it.
Mr. Orleans.
Where?
Oh, Brown Hills Creek.
She was just walking along and she saw him.
Is she sure, Tim?
Positive.
Please hurry.
Just a minute, Miss Gibbons.
What is it?
Didn't she tell us your mother had never seen this man?
Well, she's seen him now.
He was walking down here.
A lot of you know it's him if you never saw him before.
I told her what he looked like.
Doesn't the times all about him?
I don't see.
Mama would recognize Mr. Orleans anywhere.
She said so half a dozen times.
She can describe him better than I can.
Oh.
My mother's very intelligent, Sergeant.
She's not like me.
Not please.
Don't stand here and argue about it or he'll get away.
Well, just where is he?
The Norwich Hotel corner.
A Hill and Hallway.
I thought your mother saw him on the street.
Well, she followed him into the hotel.
She didn't want to lose him.
He went upstairs and she telephoned me from the lobby.
She said she'd wait there to make sure he didn't leave.
Oh, I see.
She told me to bring you as soon as I could.
It's nearly half an hour since she called me.
We haven't got much time.
Fine.
We'll check on her right away.
You're going to arrest him, aren't you?
If it's the right man.
Of course it's the right man.
Uh-huh.
Excuse me a minute.
Did you have to answer it now?
I'll confuse you to Friday.
Yeah, that's right.
I say.
Fine.
Okay.
We'll part our warrant to you.
We'll send us a notification by telegram.
Thank you.
We sure are.
Many thanks.
Salt Lake City Police Department.
Yeah.
Picked up Orleans this morning.
He had them from our circular.
Are you sure it's him?
Gave him a full confession.
Admitted the case in Chicago deals to him.
But it couldn't be, Mr. Arlin.
He's at the Norwich Hotel.
Well, Miss Gibbons, I'm afraid your mother was mistaken.
I've never known.
I'm going to make a mistake.
No, we don't make a mistake.
But she's waiting for us.
The hotel will not tell her.
Well, let's see.
I guess she's only one thing.
What's that?
Tell her not to wait.
The story you have just heard is true.
The names were changed to protect the innocent.
On August 16th, trial was held in Department 98, superior court to the state of California,
in and fall the county of Los Angeles.
Francis Caxton Wheatley, alias Henry Orleon, alias Roger Norgett, was tried and convicted
of grand theft seven counts and received sentence as prescribed by law.
One theft is punishable by imprisonment on the county jail for no more than one year,
or in the state prison for not less than one, or more than ten years.
Holes were placed on the suspect by the states of Illinois and Missouri at the termination
of his sentence in San Quentin.
You have just heard dragnet, the authentic story of your police force in action,
starring Jack Webb, a presentation of the United States Armed Forces' radio service.
