← Case Closed! (old time radio)
Case Closed! (old time radio)
Crime Classics and Squad Cars
This week's Case Closed begins with The Hangman And William Palmer, Who Won?, the October 7, 1953, episode of Crime Classics. (30:09) Our final story is The Oil Drum Case, from Squad Cars. That episode aired June 29, 1968. https://traffic.libsyn.com/forcedn/e55e1c7a-e213-4a20-8701-21862bdf1f8a/CaseClosed922.mp3 Download CaseClosed922 | Subscribe | Spotify | Support Case Closed
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Thomas Hyland
This is Case Closed, One hour of mystery and crime from the golden age of radio. Every Wednesday@ Relicradio.com. our first story comes from Crime Classics. This week we'll hear the Hangman and William Palmer, who won that story aired October 7, 1953. After that, it's squad cars and the oil drum case from June 29, 1968. Good evening. This is Crime Classics. I am Thomas Hyland with another true story of crime. Listen. William Palmer always did that when he walked past the tombstones in Rugeley Cemetery. He ran his walking cane across the closely spaced tombstones as if there were a picket fence. And he whistled a jaunty tune as if he didn't have a murder in his heart. It might concern you a little. The tombstones were so near to one another. Another. Well, it so happened that the path William Palmer took was through a section dubbed the popular section, the segment devoted to the turning into dust of folk in the lowest income bracket. William Palmer's using this path because it's a shortcut. He's anxious to see his sweetheart. He carries candy for her and poison for her husband. Thoughtful man. So tonight, my report to you on the Hangman and William Palmer, who won Crime Classics, a new series of true crime stories from the records and newspapers of every land, from every time. Your Host each week, Mr. Thomas Hyland, connoisseur of crime, student of violence, teller of murders. Now, once again, Mr. Thomas Hyland. A word about Rugeley, England. In 1854, it was about as large as Twickenham. Most of the people of Rugeley toiled at Bladen's Brass Foundry, England's prime source of supply for ornamental door knockers. The foundries of Rugeley, too, are famous as originators of the claw and ball design, later adapted as legs for bath tubs. The town itself, in its better sections, was spoken of as quite pretty. There was a heroic fountain in the center of the square, a statue of three abducted maidens of 1152. And to this fountain of a forenoon would come the wives of the town to nudge each other and gossip down the street from it, the town hall. And around the corner from the town hall, the home of Mrs. Katie Abley and her husband, George. Mr. Abley is in bed waiting for his lunch. And Katie is waiting for that. Oh, William. And for that. And you brought me candy. Five pounds. Where is he? And he's a bed doctor. How does he feel? Moist. Did you give him the medicine? I did. And no sooner than it went down him. That he sat up with a start, looked about him and lay down again. From then on, he slept fitfully. Katie, now don't you dare. Doctor. No, no, no, listen. Katie. What is it? I stopped in the laboratory of the hospital and I got a new medicine. The ones you've given my husband so far have just been keeping him sick. Doctor, your husband has an amazing constitution. What is the name of this new medicine? Strychnine. Why haven't you used it before? Traces of it are easily to be detected. And why are you using it now? Well, this morning at the pub, I stopped in for a dram. I met a man, a doctor. He's 80 years old and has newly come to Rugeley. He wants so much to make friends. And, Katie. Yes? He has the authority to sign birth certificates. And if someone should die, he has the authority to sign death certificates. Doctor. Yes? I've got some piping hot broth. Of what? Kidneys and such. Seasoned well with rosemary and thyme and basil. Add this to it. All of it. Your husband's constitution should be written up in the journal. All of it. I ladle out the broth. George. George, I brought you some nice broth here. And let me spoon it for you. That's a nice boy. Eat up all the kidney broth. And it was on that day that George Abley's constitution finally gave out. Dr. William Palmer summoned his new 80 year old friend, Dr. Bamford. And in deference to the aged doctor's failing eyesight, Palmer moved the deceased over into the light. Dr. Bamford corroborated on the diagnosis of death due to internal strictures and closures and signed the death certificate. Dr. Bamford had found a friend. It was barely six weeks after George Abley had been deposited in Rugeley Cemetery in the north plot above the popular section when this happened. You don't love me any more, Doctor? Of course I do, Katie. I've no more money, if that's what you want. But your husband left you a thousand pounds and I've given you all but a pittance and you've no more. You don't love me and you know more. No. Once I loved you, Katie, but no more. Do I amuse you, Miss Brooks? Oh, you're very witty, Doctor. You better listen again with your stethoscope and make sure my diagnosis is correct. Your heart is kind and generous. And it beats quickly. Does it? Now listen to mine. Oh, surely you're joking. No, no, of course I'm not. Here, put these pieces in your ears. You hear it? Bum, bum. Bum, bum, bum Just the way yours goes. Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum. Here, let me take that stethoscope. May I make a confession, Doctor? As if there were anything for you to confess. Oh, but indeed there is. Yesterday at the race track, I. I contrived to meet you, Doctor. You were so handsome, so dashing, so from London. I hardly watched the races in the handkerchief you dropped. Yes. Naughty, naughty, naughty. I'm bold. Bold. Bold. That's what you are. Bold. Doctor. Yes. I'm ashamed, Miss Brooks. No, no, don't touch me. Listen to me. I'm ashamed. What I did yesterday. Dropping my handkerchief at an opportune time so that you would lift it up to me. And speaking with you then. And spending the rest of the day with you then. Coming here this morning to plead an illness I never had. Miss Brooks. Dear Miss Brooks. Nigh Ms. Brooks. NY Ms. Brooks. You don't think I'm wanton? Certainly not. A girl in my station. You kissed me. Call me Annie. The £50 I borrowed from you at the track yesterday. It's so heavy. Oh, don't talk about it. Not now. They were wed. He a young doctor see. The daughter of an English colonel who had collected a lot of rupees in India. It is interesting to note that this is the same Colonel Brooks who was known around Calcutta in the 30s as Adorable Brooks. A name which stemmed from leading a charge against the Gurkhas. Armed with only a polo mallet. This on a wager. His daughter Annie, as we have seen, had inherited a good deal of his dash. All of his big game hunting trophies, and every month, a check. This check represented a monthly allotment from the colonel's estate, the rupees having been translated into pounds. Well, the young doctor and the colonel's daughter lived happily for some months. Champagne for breakfast. And in the afternoon when the season was right. Come on, mermaid. Come on, mermaid. Mermaid. Mermaid. Oh, dear. What do you want? Oh, don't be cruel. Here's some more money. I love you. I love you, Annie. Good. Good. Annie, dear. Yes? That's the last of it for this month. But it's only the fifth, and we've been to the races for five days. Don't worry about it, dear. You can always borrow until my next cheque. You always do. And you write all kinds of insurance, Mr. Hamlet. Ship, fire, theft, casualty, storm. Life. Life. A policy on your life, Doctor. My wife's. In what amount? £13,000. How old a woman is your wife? 27. Her health? Excellent. Well, you're a doctor. You should know. Well, I don't want you to take my word for it. I brought a report on the condition of my wife's health from a colleague. Dr. Bamberg. Yeah. Art. Excellent aspiration. Excellent. It's a very fine report. I'd say you were a lucky man to have a wife in such condition. How about the policy? No question about it. How much is the first premium annually? That way, to save money by the month. Let me see. £15,000. £50. 12 and 3. Yeah. £50, 12 and 3. Oh, thank you. Thank you very much. Annie. Annie, wake up. Wake up, dear. Hello. Champagne. Hello. Drink it. Hello. Hello. Hello. Drink it all, then. I've got a secret for you. Tell me a secret. I know who's going to win the third race today. Who? Goldfinder. Oh, you're very clever, but. But what? We have no money to bet. How do you think I got the champagne? You borrowed it. Gold finder in the third. Get dressed. Get dressed. Yes, dear. Get dressed. You what? I don't know. I can't seem to. You just lie here. Let me feel your head. Warm. A little fever. I don't want you out of bed today. Yes, Doctor. I leave you a powder to take. Yes, Doctor. Take care of yourself. Yes, Doctor. Doctor. Yes? You love me. I know you love me. I do. Kiss me, Annie. Come here and kiss me. All right. Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum. Dear Annie. Just before the third race, a messenger located Dr. Palmer at the clubhouse turn. He told the doctor that his wife had been found dead by the cleaning woman. Goldfinder paid £4 3 to place. Dr. Palmer. Had him to win. You are listening to Crime Classics and your host, Thomas Hyland. This Friday night, Mr. Keen, tracer of Lost Persons, takes on the Beautiful Widow Murder Case. It's a thrilling seesaw battle between ruthless underworld forces and the old investigator as Keane closes in on the facts of death related to one of his most fascinating and dangerous assignments. Mr. Keane, tracer of Lost Persons, Friday nights on most of these same CBS radio stations. Don't miss him. And now, once again, Thomas Hyland in the second act of Crime Classics and his report to you on the Hangman. And William Palmer, who won in 1855. The town of Rugeley had forged ahead of Twickenham in population. Therefore, Rugeley was sending more men into the Crimea to fight the war of 1854. 56. Queen Victoria had been on the throne for 18 years and her son Edward was the Prince of Wales. This was the year, too, when Haskell Blaine of Virginia came to England. To astound the royal court with his frontier wit and jackanapery. And in this time of movement and stress, the town of Rugeley little noted the passing of Mrs. Anne Palmer. She was laid to rest in the Rugeley cemetery in the south plot below the popular section. Not before, however, the venerable Dr. Bamford had signed a death certificate certifying that Annie had died because of congestion of the heart and attendant mal coloring of the blood. Dr. Palmer grieved, collected the £13,000 insurance and bought a couple of horses. One of them, the roan named Lodestar, won a race, but Lodestar pulled attendant prancing in the winner circle and had to be destroyed. In six months, Dr. Palmer was £20,000 in debt. But Dr. Palmer had a system. And these visits of yours, brother, are like freshets of spring rain. How did Dr. Woolsey treat you here, Walter? He's tapered me whiskey down to a glass in the forenoon. William? Yes? My being a drunkard blood brother to you. A drunkard? What's it done to you in the city, William? Why, nothing. Oh, not much. Physician brother to a drunkard. Dr. Wolsey will take care of you, William. What have you got in that package you're carrying? Let's walk a bit. The sea air's a tonic from these cliffs. On a clear day you can see France. What have you got in that cliff? A gift purchased at the inn for a friend of mine. I have a surprise for you, Walter. Oh, Here, hold this package while I. No, no, no, no, no. Don't open it, Walter. It's not for you. Then what's my surprise? Here. A life insurance policy. What? Life insurance? For £13,000. My life's worth that much to you, brother? So that you'll take care of it better for my sake. Such a brother you are, brother. What is it? What's in the package? Why, the shape of it, it feels like a bottle. What kind of a bottle, Walter? Whisky. Again then. What kind of whisky? And if I guess we'll open it and see, yes? Scotch whisky. Yes, but whose? McFarful's. Open it and see. McFairful's Scotch Whisky, brother. What? Walter, may I open it? No, I'll run with it. I'm fleeter than you are and you shan't catch me. And when I run away from you, I'll open it. Where will you run to? There. There to the point there on the cliff where the hedgerow stops. Please, please, please. If you run from me and I can't catch you, it'll not be my fault. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. In scarlet town where I was born There was a fair maid Come on, Walter. There was a fair maid Dwelling on your feet we'll walk away your drunkenness up we go. The walls are fair made dwelling. Don't walk in that direction, Walter. You'll fall off cliff. That's not a horse race. That's a funeral. By some misadventure, the black stallions which drew the hearse of Walter Palmer had been frightened, and they bolted and ran away. Walter's coffin was thrown to the ground and torn open, revealing to the stunned housewives in Rugeley Square the broken form of a man who had fallen off a cliff. Or as the death certificate that was signed by Dr. Bamford Read, multiple skull separations. Now, that's a horse race. A week later. Run. Si, natural. Run. Run. Oh, Dr. Palmer on a typical afternoon while he goes to bet and another loser in the next race. Let's do a little figuring here. He was £20,000 in the hole a few months after his wife died. And he collected 13,000 after his brother died. That left him still 7,000 in debt as of a week ago. It took the doctor seven days to get himself another 10,000 altogether. £17,000 in debt. That's how much Dr. Palmer owed his various acquaintances. You might be wondering what he's been doing in the medical line all this time. Nothing. Not a thing. A few pills prescribed in return for favors received, and that's about all. As far as his office was concerned, he had long since given it up and had sold his equipment and had sent his magazines on to his friend, Dr. Bamford. Now we come to a turning point in Dr. Palmer's life. He met a fellow named Cook. John Parsons Cook. It was a turning point in Cook's life, too. Ganymede, that's the horse will win the fourth. Ganymede. That handsome lad can't lose. Well, if you say so. Handsome lad can't lose. Yes, he could. He did. And the next day, Fleet King and the Lady Barbara Stakes. I had information. Don't be a fool. What have you? Had the gelding from India mocked. Very well. Mock your. The jockey told me the jockey told a fit. What's more, it was whispered he had a few kid on Fleet King who incidentally kicked Lady Barbara while she was draping him with the flower blanket and made her all right again. In spite of consistent losses because of Palmer's advice, John Cook remained a loyal friend to the sporting doctor. In fact, he grew poor with him, but always with a smile. Palmer, Palmer, you're my friend. My friend. And one morning. Palmer, Palmer, I've done it. I've done it. I won. Did you hear me? I said I won. A bob. Two bob. £25,000. You're crazy. £25,000. Old friend, I've had one of those days. We talk about one of those days. We think about when we're trying to sleep or when we're getting drunk. 25. 5,000. Show me. Show me. Show me. Look, look, look, look, look. We're rich. Rich. Cook. Cook, you're my friend, Cook. Talk to me. What do you want? What? What are you going to do with that money? It's our money, isn't it? Yours and mine. Our money. But what are you going to do with it? I'm going to America. What? America? What about me? You're my friend. What about me, Cook? You wish me wealth and the money. I'll be rich in America. Without me. Without you? I. I bear you no malice, Cook. To her. Why should you? We being good friend, I'll be so sorry to see you go. I remember you well. Cook. Cook, listen. What? A last drink with me. I don't mind. A special drink. Well, of course. Oh, I'm very happy for you, Cook. Yes, friend. Friend of mine. Wait. Wait here. Where are you going? A special brandy in my belongings in the next room. Good. Wait here. All right. 25,000. Oh, I'm very happy for you, Cook. Open the door for me. My hands are full. Special brandy, Cook. Dear friend. This one's yours, dear friend. America. Greedy, greedy, greedy. But in truth, Palmer, I'm in a hurry. That's why I swallowed down the bran. Greedy, greedy, greedy, greedy. Taste. You've been poisoned. On my word, I can't help you. I want your money. You die quickly. You're doing it now. Dr. Bamford. Dr. Bamford, come quickly. A friend of mine just died, Dr. Bamford. From occlusion of the heart valves. Come quickly. Bring your pad of death certificate, Doctor, and your indelible pent up. Quickly. Here, I'll help you, sir. It would have worked too, except that it had happened three times before. Mr. Hatton, local police superintendent, and noted a sheaf of thousand pound notes peeking out of the doctor's back pocket. An arrest was made, a trial was held. The doctor was found guilty and hanged. And the physician who pronounced him dead was named Bamford. Death due to dramatic separation of the cervical spine, the doctor wrote. Which is what happens in cases like these. In just a moment, Thomas Hyland will tell you about next week's crime classic, William Palmer. Tonight's crime classic was adapted from the original court reports and newspaper accounts by Morton Fine and David Friedkin. The music was adapted from themes of the period and conducted by Bernard Herman. And the program is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis. Thomas Hyland is portrayed on radio by Lou Merrill. In tonight's story, Jay Novello was heard as William Palmer. Featured in the cast were Betty Harford, Ellen Morgan, Joseph Kearns, Van Wright and Alastair Duncan. Bob Lamond. Speaking here again is Thomas Island. Next week, Glandier, France, in the year 1840 and the interesting events which occurred when an iron smelter's wife sent her husband a gift. My report to you will be on the seven layered arsenic cake of Madame Lafarge. Thank you. Good night. It's true that things happen on a smaller scale and fewer things happen at one time in a small town. But human interest is at a high level in rural America where people have more time to stop running and to live. That may be why Rogers of the Gazette, starring Will Rogers Jr. Is such an interesting radio series. It's packed with human values and human interest. Here, Rogers of the Gazette. Tomorrow night on most of these same CBS radio stations Thursday nights, Marlena Dietrich stars and Time for Love on the CBS radio network squad cars. The story you're about to hear is true. Details are supplied from the official case files by the South African police. Only names and places have been changed to protect innocent people involved. Johannesburg, April 17, 2pm Constable Johnny Wilson is standing at the notice board in radio headquarters. He is looking at the names on the duty roster. He is particularly concerned with the name that appears alongside his own as the crew member of Car 70 team F R Berg. Who's Rittenberg here? Ah, Constable Wilson. Oh, I wonder what you look like. Pleased to meet you. How do you do? What's the F for? France. They call me Francy. Uhuh. Oh, my name's Johnny. I guess if I just stood around, you'd make yourself known to me. First shift, eh? Yeah. Excited? Yeah. Been looking forward to this all through police college. Yeah, I remember how it was with me. What this tootle tinship like? How do you mean? A lot of action? Ah, sometimes. Depends. One thing I can promise you you won't be bored. Do you get called to murders and things? Sometimes. Variety is the spice of life in this job. Last week Hank and I almost had to deliver a baby in the back seat. Hank? My ex partner. What happened to him? Did he get hurt? Oh, no, no, no. He's been transferred. His father died and his mother's an infiltratorsburg in the free state. Farming people. Hank didn't like the idea of his mother being alone. Well, she just couldn't be too ill, so he requested a transfer. Were you together long? Nearly a year. You'll miss him. Yeah. Get used to people. Is he a good policeman? One of the best. He's going to be hard to live up to. Ah, you'll be all right. Come on. Where are we going? Well, we must start the shift with a full tank of petrol. Check the oil and water too. 8:50pm Constables Wilson and Rittenberg have pursued a vehicle the occupants of which were behaving in a suspicious manner and are returning to the central area. Bar the rant. Airport road. Poor bloke got the shock of his life. Serves him right. It obviously wasn't his wife. Obviously. I'll bet he thought we were the woman's husband. Well, he was a bit pale around the gills, wasn't he? White as a sheet. I don't know how people could be like that. You're young. You'll learn a lot of things before you're much older. Yeah, I suppose so. Hey, what's that light over there? Where? Over there in the veldt. They must be burning grass. Can't be too early. Besides, it's only in one place. Probably a night watchman who's lit a fire to keep warm. That's open felt. What would a watchman be doing out there? And it's not cold enough for a fire. Not bad. You've learned a lot at the college, eh? I think we should go and take a look. Yeah, okay. I'll be able to see that fire for miles. Yeah. I wonder what's best. Too big a fire for wood or grass. Yeah, Looks more like a chemical fire. Plastics or petrol? We'll soon see. There's a gate over there which somebody has left open. Mind, there's something that wrong. I'll watch it. It's a fire. Quill drum. It's enormous. Turn. It's not parked too close. Explode or something. Yeah, and we don't want the car catching fire. We'd have a tough time explaining that in a report. Leave a lot. But it's hot. Yeah, but it won't last long. Petrol fire. Can you see in? Not properly. Now there's something in there. Yeah, looks like. Looks like a bundle of old rags or something. Yeah. Hang on a sec. Come and look from here. Look at that. What do you make of it? It's. It's a foot. A human foot. Well, we've got to put this fire out, boy. Well, I'll push the drum over for a start. You'll get burnt, man. Well, not if I crouch. Darn hamburgers. Hot. A good hard shot with my foot is all that's needed. Nice work, Johnny. Now come and help me put the fire out. What with? We'll scratch up some sand and gravel. We shouldn't have much trouble now that I've turned it over. Now that's it. Now get a pile of stuff together and we'll throw it in when we've got enough, smother the flames. Okay. Ready? Ready. Right. Now where's your torch? Front. Yeah. Yeah. Let's have a look. Dear heaven. Oh, poor devil. European or non European? A European man. Gee, it's horrible. Yeah, I've seen some things but never one like this before. Body can't have been in the drum long. It's not long since we drove past here going up the road towards the racecourse. They must have been doing it. Putting the body in the drum, I mean when we drove past. Yeah. Well, help me tip it up. It's hot, man. Yeah, it's too hot to handle. Yeah. Better report what we found now. I'll go and talk to control France. You have a look around. Okay, Tommy. And just be careful not to disturb any prints, eh? Okay. 17 to control. Car 17 to control. Come in control. Over. Go ahead 17, over. Reporting the discovery of a European body being burnt in an oil drum. Location the felt on the left hand side of the Rent Airport road coming out of town. It's about a mile from the Heidelberg road. Over. Stay where you are and await further instructions. Over and out. What did they say? We've got to stick around. We'll be sending somebody, eh? Yeah, that's right. Who? Well, it'll be somebody from the murder squad in Brixton. Probably Lt. Lobasochny. 9:53pm Lt. Lobos Cockney, having been called away from a drive in movie, arrives at the scene of the gruesome discovery. Good evening, sir, Constable. Constables Wilson and Wittenberg, sir. Good evening, Constable. Sir. Where is it? Over here, sir. As soon as the drum was cool enough sir, we tipped it out. Oh fine. Not the prettiest corpse I ever saw. Couldn't have been burning long before you found it. Oh no, sir. That's what we figured. It was you who put the fire out, eh? Yes, sir. Nice work. But how on earth will you find anything to help you among this lot, sir? I don't know. I'm just looking. It seems like a pathologist's nightmare. They've had worse than this, though. Really, sir? Oh, yes. Did you find anything? Well, Constable Rittenberg found some footprints and tie marks. Where are they, Constable? Over here, sir. Yeah, this is where they park the car. Just give me your torch, please. Here you are, sir. Thank you. Two sets of prints, eh? Yes, sir. Man and woman. European or non European? I don't know, sir. Neither do I. Teasing you. Yes, sir. A pretty business for a woman to be involved in, isn't it, Constable? Yes, sir. Wa. We'll have those photographs, those prints and the tire marks. And I'll have members of my staff make plaster casts of them in the morning. There's not much I can do here tonight. In the morning that Dominic's contents will be properly cool. There'll be light to work in two. I'll arrange for you two to be relieved. Good night. Good night, sir. Mazo April 17, 8:10am Lt. Dirk Lobboscogne has returned to where the body in the oil drum was discovered along with various members of his staff. While photographs and plaster casts are being taken, Lieutenant Lobbus Cockney and Warrant Officer Britt are sieving the ash from the drum and the dust in the immediate vicinity. Yeah, there won't be much in this lot. No, sir. What time is the district coroner coming? He should have been here by now. I've got all of Professor Coyote's helpers before. Yes, I remember the professor, sir. Oh, he did a fantastic job reconstructing that skeleton we found there in the well. Yeah, amazing. He was able to tell us that it was the skeleton of a woman. A woman would have at least three children a month. Yeah, but what staggered me was the way he figured out the angle of the shots that killed her. He's something of a genius, the professor. Nice chap, too. Nice sense of humor. Hang on a sec. What's that buckle, sir? Pull it out. There you are, sir. Stick it in this envelope. Shouldn't think that'll tell us much, but you never know. S Some more, sir? Yes. Well, there are some mugs about. Imagine getting involved in something like this. Oh, there's no counting for human nature. Sorry, sir. Just a minute. What? This, sir? What is it? Piece of charred material. Let's have a look. This is handy. What do you make of it, sir? Well, it's a piece of shirt. An important piece too. As far as we're concerned, it's the band of the Collar piece with the label. Can you make this out? T, U, N, I, C, A. Well, how's your Latin? Oh, non existent. Well, that's Latin for a shirt. Tunica. Ever heard of that make before? No. Well, neither have I. There's a bit of a number here stamped on. Oh, yes. Re 35. Is that a 7? I think so. It must be a laundry mark. Well, if it is, we won't have much difficulty in identifying the victim. Shouldn't be difficult after that. 9:57am Lt. Lubus Cockney and Warrant Officer Britt have finished sieving the ash and dust in the vicinity of the oil drum. They have been joined by Professor Quayle from the Department of Pathology. You've met Professor Quail, haven't you? Yes, Sir. Are you Mr. Reed? In myself, sir. No complaints. Ah, but you've got a bit of a puzzle on your hands, eh? That's about the size of it. We've got enough to help us, I think, professor. But you've got a king size headache coming your way. Establishing cause of death, eh? Yes, well, we've had worse than this. What about the skeleton in the world? Well, I was only speaking to Warrant Officer Bred about that earlier. I should think this one will be easier. Well, I wish you luck with it. The District Surgeon's been and gone, sir. And this is his report? Yes. The good doctor thinks he's found a bullet hole in the skull. Let's have a look. Funny place for a bullet wound. Right on top of the head. Can't judge the angle of entry yet, but I dare say we'll get all that in the lab later. Now let's have another look here. Wore false teeth. Top set. Missing job of somebody. Here. What's that? Hawking? This jawbone around the dentist in Jeppy Street. That'll be me, sir. Got the feet for it. What do you manage to find? Well, where's my list? Here we are. Seven brass eyelets from shoes or boots. Two shoelace ends. One zip. It's about the length of a zip used in a man's trousers. Four buttons. Badly burned. They could be of the victim's trousers. 3 what could have been shirt buttons. And there's a buckle, presumably off a belt and a piece of shirt collar. That's our best clue. It's a miracle to me that it wasn't burnt along with the rest. I'll be thinking about that. Very simple really might be to you, sir. Imagine yourself all squashed up in an oil dump. If you had been forced in, the parts of you which would be pressed against the sides would be the soles of your feet, your knees and your back, including the upper portion of your spine. Now, anything pressed between you and the sides of the drum would stand a chance of surviving the flames. Yes, that's how we come to have that piece of the shirt's neck band and collar. Is it going to help you much? Well, I'm counting on it, Professor. Well, I wish you luck. The next day, 8:53am Major Monroe's office at Murder Squad Headquarters, Brixton. A council of war is being held to discuss what is already known as the Oil Drum murder. Right. Now, just so they were all in the picture, I've had Professor Quayle on the phone this morning. A preliminary report on his examination of the body. He has found another bullet hole. In fact, two more to add to the one found by the district coroner. The one the coroner found was caused by a bullet entering the skull on the left side at an oblique angle. Professor Quayle has recovered the bullet. It's been sent to ballistics. We should have a report from them sometime today. The other two holes the professor found were the entrance and exit of another shot. This one entered the brain just above the right ear and it came out in the left cheek, just below the cheekbone. The trajectory was downwards, which suggests that the shot was fired from above the deceased. Probably while he was sitting down. Sir. Yes? There was a car involved. I wonder if he was shot in the car. Another question to be answered. Now, we have three things requiring some hard, routine work. There's some real slogging to be done in this one. There's what appears to be a lawned remark on the shirt collar. Someone has to check that. There's the maker shirt. And closer scrutiny in the lab has revealed what could be a manufacturer's serial number. Investigation may lead us to a retailer and luck might help us find a customer. You never know. Anyway, it has to be checked, and that's number one. Number two is the laundry mark, or what appears to be the laundry mark. And thirdly, there's the jawbone and the false teeth. That's my job, sir. Is it? I've done Jeppy street from end to end. The forcer, they know me. It might make things easier. Okay. What about you, Lieutenant? Oh, well, if it's all right with you, sir, I'll take the making the manufacturer's serial number. Right. And I'll put another man on dry cleaners and laundries. Report back to me as soon as you find anything during the week that Follows. The three detectives are kept busy continuously driving, walking. Questions? Good morning. I'm a police officer. Here are my credentials as a wholesaler. Perhaps you'll be able to help me. I'm trying to find the manufacturer or the agent for Tunica Shirts. Good morning, Doctor. It's me again. I wonder if I may have a word with your mechanic. Oh, not one of yours, eh? Good afternoon. I have here a photograph of a portion of shirt bearing what could be a laundry mark. J sounding Jeffy street hasn't half made my corns complaints. Morning, gentlemen. Good morning. Morning, sir. I've just been in with the Brigadier. He is wanting to know how about getting on with the Oil Drum murder investigation. Well, how are we getting on? What a novice appears. If there's a dentist I haven't met in Jeffy street, sir, then he's only started his practice. During the past 10 years, I've walked from one end of Jeffrey street to the other. I've interviewed every dental mechanic in the business. I've even been to the dental hospital at this. Nothing. Detective Sergeant Gravett. Same with me, sir. Not one of the laundries or dry cleaners around Joburg has ever seen the laundry mark I showed him. Not very promising, is it, Lieutenant Lovis Cockney. Well, I was a Dorner Blank, sir, but I picked up something which leads me to believe that the deceased might be an immigrant. What's that? Well, Tanuka's shirts aren't sold in South Africa. They're manufactured in Britain and the manufacturers aren't represented here. There's no agent handling them. Well, it doesn't necessarily follow he's an immigrant. He could be a South African citizen who's been overseas and bought the shirt while he was over there. Yes, that's also possible. Well, we're not getting very far. Anything more from Professor Quayle, sir? Yes. He says the deceased was a man of about 35 and 6ft 1 inches tall and weighed almost 200 pounds. Big boy. Yes. There's also the ballistics report from the Criminal Bureau about the bullet Professor Quayle removed from the skull of the deceased. It's a 22 long rifle ammunition fiorme, made in Finland. Well, it's another lead. A slim one there. Right. Who's going to take it? Well, I'm free now, sir. All right. What's your next move, Lieutenant? Well, this is not a reflection on Detective Sergeant Gravett, sir, but I'm very disappointed in the result of his inquiries at dry clees and laundries. Who did you talk to, Sergeant Managers and owners, mostly. I thought so. Owners don't know what's going on in their own businesses. I think we'll go out again. You and I, Sergeant. This time we'll talk to the people actually concerned with the marking of garments. Right, sir. Do you want me to get you some? Get me some What? Corn blasters. Eight days later, 2:50pm Lieutenant Lobuscockney and Detective Sergeant Gravitt are visiting a steam laundry, the renowned steam laundry in Commissioner Street East. They're talking to a woman worker concerned with laundry marks. Lotus in this photograph? Yes. Does that mean anything to you? Re 357? Yeah, it does. What? That's one of ours. Are you sure? Positive. Who did you put it in for? Shouldn't be difficult to find that. Just hang on a sec. Yes, here we are, you see? Yes, re Majestic Hotel. This is fabulous. But what do the numbers stand for? Easy. His room number. Number 57. 3:23pm Armed with that information, the two policemen drive to the Majestic Hotel and interview the manager. Yes? Well, I want to know who's occupied that room lately. How recently? Probably in the last three weeks. Three weeks? Let me see. There's a Mr. Brownlow in there at the moment. Before him there was Mr. Florey. He'd be here about that time. Where is he now? He's away at the moment. You mean he's coming back? That's what he said. He left his things there in the baggage room. What does this Mr. Flory do? He's a salesman. Where is he? Out in the country somewhere, traveling around, you know. Is he out from England by any chance? Yes. Came here to settle. I think I'd better have a look at his things. I don't know about that. I've reason to believe that Mr. Flory is dead. Oh, I see. It's just through here. Has Mr. Florey stayed here long? About five or six weeks. Before he went away, that is. Stuff's in here. Ah, thanks. That trunk and these two suitcases. Right. Now, let's have a look. Got your own keys, huh? It's something I picked up in the boy scouts. Did Mr. Flory have any friends? He's a very lively sort. He was always in company. Did he knock about with anybody in particular? Yes, a young boxer called Jimmy Ban. Where do I find him? Easy. He's in here every night. The evening of May 7, 6:35pm Lt. Double Scockney and Warrant Officer Britt are sitting unobtrusively in the hotel foyer. Hello, Eric. Good evening, Jimmy. I've Got a table for dinner? How many? Just me and the dog. Come on. Warrant Officer. Right, sir. What time? Oh, about 10, 4, 7. Mr. Jimmy. Ben. Oh, that's right. I'm a police officer. I'd like a word with you. What about? Trust you, Mr. Britt. Right, sir. Now look here. I'll stick you out if you touch me. You start any trouble, I'll finish it. Stand still. Lousy cops. Hello. What's this? It's a revolver. What does it look like? I hear you're handy with your fists. I do all right. Then what does a tough youngster like you want to do with firearms? Do they come too big for you? Sometimes. I should think a tall chap weighing about 200 pounds could take you a right. Yeah, A cobra. Tutu. I'm taking you in. What for? On suspicion of having murdered Mr. William Flory on or about the 17th of April. You're going to have a hard time making a charge like that stick. I don't think so. It depends. Yeah? On whether our ballistic staff can match the bullet found in Florrie's brain with this gun. And what if they can? Then they'll hang you, my boy. When it was pointed out to Jimmy Van that the police might have enough evidence on which to convict him, the tough facade fell away, revealing a small time thug and bully. The motive behind William Florida's death was robbery. Van had driven Claudia out of town with the intention of beating and robbing him. But Van's weight was against him. He used a box as a lightweight at 134lbs. Fitted against Florida's 200lbs. Bullying with his fists proved ineffective. Florida was too much for him. He pretended to make it up with Florie and then shot him as he sat in the car. Florrie was so big and strong, though, that the shot behind his ear didn't kill him. In fact, he dragged himself from the car and was going for Ban when he collapsed. Van then shot him in the top of the head. How much did he get? 63 runs a poultry figure which cost Jimmy Ban his life. But he was brought to trial, sentenced to death and hanged at Pretoria Central Prison. They prowl the empty streets at night, waiting in fast cars on foot, living with crime and violence. These men are on duty 24 hours out of every 24. They face dangers at every turn. Expecting nothing less, they protect the people of South Africa. These are the men of squad Cars. Listen again next Friday evening to another dramatic story in our authentic South African police series, Squad Cars. Squad Cars is directed by Colin Fish and produced by David Goodman. That's Case Closed for this week. There's more from crime classics Squad Cars, Case Closed and all of the other podcasts@ RelicRadio.com you'll also find our Shoutcast stream there with even more old time radio lots to listen to, all made possible by your support. If you'd like to help out, visit donate. Relicradio.com or click on one of the links on the the website. Thanks as always to those who have thanks for joining me this week. Back next Wednesday with another hour of Case Closed.