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Calling All Cars 33-12-27 ep005 Cookie Vejar Killing
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Calling All Cars 33-12-27 ep005 Cookie Vejar Killing
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Frederick Lindsley
Hauling all cars. The copyrighted program created for the Rio Grande Oil Company. Police calling all cars. Attention all cars. Broadcast 5. Regarding a man wanted for murder. Description later Rolls and clerk. For several years you have been hearing the statement that more police and emergency cars are powered with Rio Grande cracks wherever it is sold than any other gasoline. Year after year this statement is proved. Can you ask for a more convincing testimonial? The competition is intense, yet no gasoline has yet been made that will outperform Rio Grande crack. That's why year in year out, the leading cities and countries, wherever Rio Grande crack is sold, select this gasoline above all others. They have yet to find any gasoline which is quicker to start, which accelerates as fast, which is as speedy and powerful. If Rio Grande Dicloc gasoline performs so superbly in these emergency cars, obviously it will give better performance in your car too. If you are one of the many who think all gasolines are much alike, we challenge you to try a tank full of police car performance. Hundreds of thousands of motorists have accepted this challenge and have discovered that Rio Grande cracke has remarkable features which other gasolines lack. You can expect unusual performance from your car when you change to Rio Grande cracked gasoline. And now is the time to change. We now present Captain Burt Wallace, head of the homicide squad of the Los Angeles Police Department. Captain Wallace. Good evening, friends. I doubt if the respectable citizens listening to this broadcast have any idea of the brutal methods used by lawbreakers in their illegal extortion of money during the Prohibition era. Some mighty tough characters developed among the bootleggers. And the cold blooded shooting and torture you will hear on this program are typical of their heartless and brazen methods. It is a tribute to the efficiency of your police that practically all of these cold blooded killers of the bootlegger era have been tracked down and are now paying the penalty for defying society. It still amazes me that modern racketeers continue to think they can get away with it when the record shows so plainly that every one of these tough guys is eventually caught by the police and punished. Our policemen on their daily rounds are in constant danger of being shot and killed. But as you will soon hear, the crook who attacks a police officer can never escape. Every law enforcement officer in the land joins in the hunt and we always get our man. Tonight we have selected the story of the killing of Deputy Sheriff Cookie Vihar for this episode of Calling All Cars. The story goes back to the middle of November 1932. For its beginning, the activities of the Los Angeles Police Department had made Business bad for the bootlegger. And Raleigh McAllister, a petty whiskey peddler, and his friend James Rogan, a sailor bootlegger, are discussing the situation. I tell you, Jim, it's getting tougher and tougher. Yeah, I know, Mac. The feds are clamping down so you can't get it in off the boat. And Davis Gang down at City hall slap you down when you try to sell the stuff you make yourself. It's. Yeah, it's tough all right. You got another drink there? Yeah, here. That's good stuff. That's the good you've been selling. Think I'm crazy? This is real whiskey. I wouldn't wash my feet in that stuff I peddle. I don't blame you. When I had a territory up north, I boiled up the same poison for the suckers. Well, we gotta get some dough someplace. This is getting tough. You got any ideas? Well, like I was telling you the other night, there ought to be a lot of Dough in Blackie McKnight's joint down there on 7th Street. Their take on the tables every night must be a couple of grand. Yeah, but I don't like the idea of a stick up job. It ain't in my line. You got buck fever? No, it ain't that. But I always run my business respectable. I've been an honest bootlegger and I don't like the idea of breaking the law that way. Well, there ain't no dough in being an honest bootlegger anymore. You ought to know that yourself. Yeah, well, it won't hurt the case. The joint. Let's go down tonight. Blackie's a cagey guy. You think we can get in? Sure. I got a card I borrowed. I'll go down in that shirt sleaze, and I won't suspect nothing. Okay. You got any dough? Yeah, but I see. Well, we'll need it. We're going to have to spend a little before we can get the lay of that joint. All right, you ready? Right. Let's have another drink before we go. Okay. Sorry, boys, I can't let you in. We got a card, ain't we? Yeah, you got a card and it's got your signature on it in it. Yeah, that's just it. I never saw you boys in my life. I never made out this card to you. Oh, yeah, we got a card and we're coming in. No, you're not. Not until I make sure you're on the up and up. This card's made out to Tom Walsh. You him? No, I'M not. He's a friend of mine. You call him up and tell him Jim Rogan's down here. He'll tell you I'm okay. All right. You guys will have to wait outside, though. Okay. You're right. He sure is a cagey guy. He's got a lot of cash in this joint. He ain't taking any chances. Ever been here before? No, but I got an idea it'll be a cinch to knock over. Looks like there's only one way out. And this is it. Looks that way. This guy got a very big mob hanging around? Not that I know of. I understand there's just himself and a couple of dealers in the bartender. Dealers will all be gone by the time we come back with the heaters. Maybe we'll have to pull a job without ever getting in first. Nah, Tom. A little. Okay. Me? Yeah. If he's home. Well, we'll know pretty quick. Like he's coming back now. Well, what about it? Okay, boys. Tom says you're all right. What do we tell you? Well, you know how it is, boys. You can't afford to take no chances in this business. Yeah, a blackjack sure is a cold deck you got there, mister. Pipe down. Come on, let's get out of here. I might as well. He's got all my dough. Listen, stiff, we'll come back in a while and take it from him. It's a soft spot to stick up. Yeah, I'll get that dough I lost and a lot more. Sure you will. Don't shoot off your face now. We'll talk later with a pair of cats. Okay, let's go. Well, tough luck, boys. Yeah. You'll do better next time. Yeah, I think we will. And in the early hours of the same morning, Deputy Sheriff Cookie Vihar dropped into Blackie's place looking for a suspect. Hello, Cookie. Oh, Blackie. Come to make a pinch, Cookie? No, not this time, Blackie. Just looking for a guy, that's all. Nobody here now, Cookie, except Mike the bartender and one of the girls. Yeah, I think he'll come in anyway. Okay, Cookie. See, Cookie? What? Is that ya? Yeah. Who's in the back room? Nobody. I'll take a look. Okay, Cookie, you go ahead. I gotta answer the door. Oh, have a drink on the house, Cookie. Not when I'm working. Oh, hello, boys. Back again? Looks like it, don't it? Yeah. We got some more dough. Lettuce in. Okay. We came back to get back the toe we lost. Where's the blackjack game? Game's all over for tonight. Yeah, yeah, but we came back for the dough. You lost it, didn't you? No, we had it lifted off us by your crooked card. What are you welching about? You lost the dough and that's that. Yeah, but we're getting that dough back. Now put up your hands. Hey, what's going on in here? You too, Mr. Reach. Now, all of you, over to the side. Come on. You, behind the bar. All right, I'll sit down on the floor. Me, too. You can sit on the beach. Hey, over there, all of you. Take off your shoes. You better watch what you're pulling, fella. Cookie here's a deputy sheriff. Yeah, well, that's just dandy. How do you like looking at the wrong end of a cat, mister? Don't worry me none when there's a yellow rat on the other end. Yeah, you better watch your lip or I'll put a slug to it. Hey, where you going? I'm getting out. I want to get mixed up in the. Yeah, staying right here until this little party's over. Ouch. You're hurting my arm. Now, Blackie, my boy, where'd you keep the dough? There ain't no dough here. We come back for that dough we lost. Yeah, and any more that's hanging around. Well, there ain't any here. Come on, Blackie, come clean. Listen, boys, I don't know nothing about the dough. I just work here. Oh, you're lying, Blackie. Please don't do that. Here's another soldier. Now. Where's that dough? Listen, I tell you, God's honest truth, I ain't got no dough. Got those matches, Mac? Yeah. Here they are. Hold up his feet, Mike. Maybe these will make your talk, Blackie, huh? Oh, boy. Now, look, don't do that, Please, boys, stop your wiggling. All right, Jim, hold his feet up. How about it, Blackie? Where's the dough? I tell you, I ain't got that. Oh, sure about that smell? No, I ain't got it. Where is it? Ow. Oh, my partner's got it. Jaime's got it. I'll let him go. Please let him go. You're killing him. He'll lift a rat. What's the matter, Jim? I need to burn my finger. Come on, Blackie. You're lying. Where's the dough, Blackie? Come on, you mugs, let up. He doesn't know where he is. Ah, shut up, flatfoot. Your turn's next. Yeah, yeah. Now, come on, Blackie. No problem with the doughy, Jim. That dick's got a gun. Boy, that dirty Rat putting a rod on me. Oh, you still Cookie, you killed him. Stop yapping. Stop ya yapping. He ain't dead yet, but he got my pallor right through the heart. Well, Mac, old boy, I guess you won't be needing this cat any more where you're going. And I may find use for it. Hey, you. Who? Yeah, you, Homie. A cab. Oh, all right. No funny business. I said a cab and not the police. Well, how are your feet? Blackie, don't burn me again, will you? I haven't told you the truth. I ain't got the dough. Okay, Blackie. I got more important business now. I gotta get myself out of here. The cab will be here in a minute. Thanks. Oh, you're wounded. I sure am. What of it? Can I bandage it for you or something? No, you can't. I don't want any of your help. Do you realize that you shot a police officer? They'll be looking for you everywhere now. What of it? Keep your mouth shut and you'll be safe. If that dick hadn't started blazing away, there wouldn't have been any shooting and my pal would still be alive. I got a good mind to finish that Blackfoot right off. Now, don't cause any more trouble, Blackie. You're the scariest guy I ever knew of in this racket. Well, maybe I am, but don't pop off Cookie. He's a good guy. Okay, Blackie. Probably gonna bump off anyway, so I'll leave you here to watch it. Only, Blackie, if you love your life, keep your mouth shut so long. As soon as Rogan drives away in the cab, the bartender calls the police. A few moments later, Detective Con, Dapper and Ryan of the Homicide squad, arriving on the heels of the ambulance, are investigating the scene of the crime. What's it look like to you, Doctor? Well, I doubt if he has a chance. Ah, poor Cookie. Laughing right up to the lat. He's a rough hombre, that Cookie. I'll do everything you can for him, Doctor. You can bet we will. Now, any of you people know who this guy was that did the shooting? I never saw him before. He had somebody else's card. I. I phoned and checked on him, and they said he was okay. You don't know what his name was, eh? I don't. He did tell me his name, but I forgot I heard you from here, that they call him Regan or Rogan or something like that. When was that? When they was in earlier in the evening. Rogan. Rogan. Let's see. Oh, yeah, yeah, here's his name in this dead guy's notebook. That's him all right. Rogan. Jim Rogan. A Sunday. Police. Calling all cars, sensing all cars. Rob cat number 70 on the lookout. The following described man wanted for robbery and attempt murder. One James Sidney Rogan. Drive. An American, 5ft 10 inches, 165 pounds, blue eyes, dark chested hair, age 32 years, nose flattened and large, nautical. This man shot and seriously wounded Deputy Sheriff Tahar during a hold up on West 7th street early this morning. The search of Rogan's apartment reveals a phone bill, among the items of which are several calls to a Bakersfield number. Bakersfield police are asked to trace down this clue. They call at the address where the phone is located. It is a well known resort. Hello, Amy. Hello, Burt. What you doing down this way? Oh, just paying a call. Anything wrong, Bert? No, everything's okay. Come on, Philip, I never come down here unless there's some trouble. Any of your girls been getting any calls from la? When? Oh, recently. I don't check on them that close. They got a lot of calls. Yeah, I know, Amy, but you might know if one of the girls got six calls from LA in a month. What? Well, then what's her name? She ain't here anymore. Where is she? She left for LA yesterday on the bus? Yeah, yeah. What was her name? Mabel's the name she went by here. Mabel what? Just Mabel. What'd she look like? Young, 22 or 3. Where'd she go in L, A? How should I know? Did she ever call L, A? I don't know that either. Why not? It's a payphone, you dummy. Look for yourself. Yeah, that's right. Well, the phone company will have a record on that. A check with the telephone company in Bakersfield leads to the apartment of Nick Charters, a petty bootlegger. Tom, Dapper and Ryan visit the apartment and find Charters and Mabel there. They arrest them on a technical charge of suspicion of murder and bring them in for questioning hour after hour. Charter stoutly protests his ignorance of the whole affair and then. I don't know what you got me here for. I don't know nothing about him. Rogan's a friend of yours, isn't he? No. He's a friend of your girls, isn't he? No. She isn't cheating on you, is he? Oh, no. Why? Well, Rogan called her up in Bakersfield six times last month. He did not. Did you call her six times? Yes, and more. Where from? Rogan's apartment? No. Then she's Kidding you? Because we know somebody called her from Rogan's apartment six times last month. Oh, come on, Charters. We know all about it. Let's not waste any more time. Come on, tell us all you know. I don't know nothing. Oh, yes, you do. Now, look here, Nick. We know you weren't in on the shooting, but we also know Rogan went right to your place after the shooting. Well, how do you know that? That's right, isn't it, Charters? Well, yes. All right, let's have the rest of it. Well, he came over and told me what had happened. Was he wounded? Yeah. Where? Well, in the chest and in the leg. What'd you do with him? Well, he wanted to get out of town. So after we'd laid low a couple of days, he was well enough to travel. So we took him to San Francisco. What address there? Well, I dropped him in front of the Ferry Building. Is that the truth, Charter? Yes, on the level. He said something about having relatives there, so I said goodbye to him and came on home. That's all I know about it, honest. You ain't got nothing on me. I didn't have nothing to do with it. Can I go now? Huh? Can I go? Yeah, you can go. And betrayal ends at the Ferry Building in San Francisco. Although Rogan's relatives are watched by the San Francisco police, there is apparently no communication with Rogan. The earth seems to have swallowed him up. Descriptions of the killer are sent to police departments all over the world. In Balboa, in the Panama Canal Zone, a suspect answering Rogan's description is arrested. Fingerprints from Los Angeles reveal him to be the wrong man. The Oregon State Police. Hold it. Suspect. A checkup reveals a man to have a missing finger. He is released. Rogan is reported recuperating in a hunting resort near Ready. The Shed of Shasta county investigates the place and finds nothing. A girl friend of Rogan's is discovered in San Diego. She claimed she hadn't seen Rogan in a year. But she admits if she didn't know where he was, she wouldn't tell for fear of what he would do to her. Rogan is reported down for Hawaii. The chief of Police of Honolulu combs the red light district of Evil Eye and finds nothing. So for months, the fruitless manhunt drags on. Clue after clue is followed, leading nowhere. They ha's brother officers at the sheriff's office raise a fund of $500 and offer it for Raven's capture. The detective magazines print Rogan's picture and description in her show up departments avid amateur detectives. The nation over on the lookout for the killer. Corinth, Mississippi. Howdy, stranger. What can I do for y'all? Fill her up. Yes, sir. Reckon you all come some distance. From the looks of your car, maybe I have. Are you going far? Maybe. Well, there you are. How much? That'll be 168. Here you are, two bucks. Just a minute. I'll get your change. Oh, keep it. I'm in a hurry. Well, I'll be doggone if it ain't Martha. Martha. Yes? Bring me that detective book. This detective book? Have you got the picture of the dead girl in the carpet? Yeah, that's right. The green one. Hurry. All right, all right, I'm coming. Hold your horses. I'm coming as fast as I can. She was a pretty gal. Here you are. What you doing? Seeing things again? Martha, I do think we all seen $500 flying down the. Yes, sir. Here he is. Why, that fellow that just bought gas, James Sidney Rogan, wanted dead or alive. Well, what's his license number? His what? His license number, Martha. I didn't get it. And you call yourself a detective? Just the same, I'm going to write to the chief of police in Los Angeles. He ought to know about this. And in Milford, Connecticut, the editor of the local newspaper has a short order cook in a dining car under suspicion. Let me have a donut too, huh? Coming up. Thanks. Oh, you might give me some butter. Hey, just put it on the coffee sauce here, eh? Eh? Yeah, it's fine. Hey, you ain't been here long, have you? Oh, a couple weeks. Where'd you come from? Worked over in Jersey City. Yeah? Uh huh. Yeah. Ever been west? Oh, no further west than Newark. California is a great country. That threw me. Yeah, I guess it is. Sure is, from all I can hear. Oh, say, could I have some more coffee? Sure. Oh, sorry. I stuck my finger in that butter. Wait, I'll get a clean sauce. No, no, no, no. That's all right. That's all right. That's a silly habit I got when I was a kid, smearing butter around a saucer like that. Oh, I got you a clean one. No, that's fine. Say, you don't mind if I drink this over at the office, do you? We're going to press soon. I guess I better get back. That's okay with me. Just leave a dime deposit. Oh, sure. Yes, they are carefully preserving the fingerprinted coffee saucer in his ice box. The amateur detective editor writes Chief Davis for Rogan's Fingerprint and finds to his chagrin, that his suspect has probably been telling the truth about never being west of Newark. At least he is not Rogan. So months pass and Rogan remains at large. And then one day, Inspector Davidson with a homicide detail called Condapper and Ryan into his office. Well, here's the letter I thought would interest you boys. Yeah, what's it about? Rogan. Now, let's see it. Say, listen to this. Do you really intend paying $500 reward for the information leading to the arrest of Rogan? Because if you do, I can tell you where to find him. Just write me care of General delivery, San Francisco. Probably another one of those nuts. Well, what did you do about it? Well, I wrote and told him the reward absolutely would be paid and we'll see what comes of it. Following up this latest clue, San Francisco officers working under the direction of Chief of Detective Charles Dallea of the San Francisco Police Department throws a stake out on the house, pointed out to them seeing Roganetter and leave the place several times. On the night of October 11, 1933, they close in on the place. Open up now. We'll have to break it open. The men all posted around the house? Yeah. All right, let's bear down this thing. Deliver your gas. You may need it. I already have. Roll your flashlight this way. Got him there, Honor. In here. Wait a minute. Just heard a sound down the hall here. Look, the door's closed. All right, let's open it. Hear him? Yeah. Come on out of there. I'll give you three and then I'll shoot through the door. One, two. Okay, just shoot. Uncommon. Ah, hello, Rogan. We're mighty glad to see you. I ain't glad to see you. Why don't you? For sure. If you'd have come a day later, you'd never had me. Yeah, how's that? I was laminate where you never got me. Well, we figured we'd better pay you a card pretty soon. Yeah. Well, how about it, Rogan? Are you ready to talk about that job down in la? Yeah, I'll talk. Let's get out of here. I'll talk as soon as we get to headquarters. But an attorney was waiting for Rogan at headquarters, and on his advice, Rogan refused to talk. Lt. Ryan went to San Francisco a couple of days later and brought Rogan back to face trial. A speedy trial was scheduled and successfully prosecuted by Deputy District Attorneys Grant Cooper and George Tallman. Rogan's attorney tried to enter a plea of guilty to murder in the first degree. In exchange for a life sentence. But the prosecution refused this move, and on December 5, Rogan was found guilty of murder in the first degree with no recommendation for clemency. On December 15, 1933, Rogan was given the death penalty by Judge Fletcher Boren. He was sent to san Quentin in February 1934 and fought his hanging. But on February 8, 1935, he was hanged by the neck until dead. Thank you, Captain Wall. Hundreds of thousands of boys and girls have joined the Rio Grande junior Police department. These junior G men are outfitted with uniform belts, pistol and holster handcuffs, fingerprint outfits, genuine metal police badges and many other items of equipment. All given away absolutely free by the Rio Grande Oil Company. Ask your independent neighborhood, Rio Grande crack gasoline dealer how you the oil company. Ask your independent neighborhood, Rio Grande crack gasoline dealer how you can get these free gifts. All over America, hundreds of thousands of gasoline service stations are now warning motorists to Sinclair eyes for summer as warm weather comes. Your car needs entirely different lubrication. Your motor oil, for example, should be of an entirely different grade. But every car is different, so we can't tell you here what oil to use. Your Rio Grande crack gasoline dealer can tell you for he has the latest information flashed from the factory that made your car telling exactly what grade of oil and lubricant should be used on every part and what changes should be made as your car grows older. Sinclair is one of the world's largest manufacturers of lubricants. Take your car wherever Rio Grande clack the afternoon is sold and you'll get expert scientific lubrication when you Sinclairize or summer. Los Angeles police calling autocard. Attention all cars. A camp lease to broadcast by suspect in this case is now in custody. And that's all. This is Frederick Lindsley bidding you good night for the Rio Grande Oil Company.