 Whitehall, one-two, one-two, quickly. For the first time, Scotland Yard opens its secret files to bring you the authentic true stories of some of its most celebrated cases. These are accurate records drawn from these files by special permission of Sir Harold Scott, commissioner of Scotland Yard. They're true in every respect, except the names of the participants, which for obvious reasons have been changed. The research has been done by Mr. Percy Hoskins, chief crime reporter for the London Daily Express. The stories for radio are written and directed by Willis Cooper. New Scotland Yard, the London headquarters of the Metropolitan Police, is situate near the embankment on Whitehall, part by 10 Downing Street and almost in the shadow of Big Ben. Here also is the headquarters of the CID, the Criminal Investigation Department, the body of men whose exploits for more than 100 years have made the name Scotland Yard synonymous with a brilliant detection of crime and unrelenting pursuit of the criminal, and the presentation of the painstakingly acquired evidence that assures his eventual punishment. On the lower ground floor of New Scotland Yard is the famous Black Museum, where whose present custodian is chief superintendent James Davidson, a Scotland Yard veteran. Behind this door... Good afternoon. This Black Museum of ours is rather unique. Everything in it was at one time connected with the successful solution of a crime, all was closely involved in the crime itself. We possess an imposing collection of lethal weapons here, each carefully docketed to indicate its origin. Here are half-empty bottles of almost every poison known to man, together with a statement of particulars concerning its use. Here are the blood-stained garments on which the solution of a crime of violence depended. Among the Black Museum's relics are disguises used by famous criminals, death masks of notorious men and women whose ends Scotland Yard encompassed, and the great many other more gruesome mementos of man's inhumanity to man. Among the exhibits are others seemingly incongruous objects that in their time served well in the undoing of desperate criminals. Such an exhibit is this one. The fragments of a set of teacups. This collection of shards was the first step in the solution of a frightful crime which occurred during the Brits of July 1940. Yes, sir? Would you please bring me file number 302MR651, Constable? 302MR651, sir? Yes, sir. One, sir. In July 1940, the Battle of Britain was at its height. The left waffe hits us at all hours and from advanced defense fields or the REF, the weary spitfires rose day and night to do battle. Thousands of British people died in Britain as a result of enemy action. But in the midst of the very present war, murder went on as usual. Chief Superintendent Peter Kaderuth received a telephone call at Scotland Yard on the morning of the 3rd of July of Wednesday. Mar 302MR651, sir. Thank you. The call was from Chief Constable at Matfield, a Kentage village near Tundredge. The Chief Constable reported the finding of the bodies of three women shot to death and requested the assistance of the CID. The services of Scotland Yard are available to the provincial police at all times. It requested the Home Office, assuming all expenses, if the request is made within 24 hours of the discovery of the crime, at their own expense if we're called in after that. Chief Superintendent Kaderuth was gratified that the request came at the very beginning of the case and he drove to Matfield at once with a medical examiner from the Home Office and Detective Sergeant Small, also of Scotland Yard. They were met at the scene of the crime by Matfield Chief Constable, Thomas Bennett. It's good of you to come so quickly all of you. It's all quite beyond his ears, sir. What, with the blitz at all? I'm sure he had a bad time. Having it, sir. Yes, I have no doubt. Who's ours, Mr. Bennett? Spitfires. Jerry must be up again. Well, here's what happened. In the house, there's Miss Evans, the servant. Is she dead? Two oars in her head. Played, placed all ransacked, all tore up. Where are the others? Mrs. Ames and her daughter Jessica's lying down there in the orchard. Also shot. Yes, I see. Well, we want to start, sir. Oh, a house, I think, first. Yeah. Well, come in, then, sir. Gentlemen. Thank you. They've lived here in Matfield a long time. Have they, Bennett? Miss Evans, the servant, has always lived here. Mrs. Ames and her daughter moved here a year ago. Mrs. Ames, the widow? No. It's strange for her husband, though they are quite friendly. He lives at Pittington. Oh, yes, I know. I've been there. Owns of harm. Does he know about this? My station sergeant telephoned him this morning, sir. He was in London, but he'll be home this evening. Shall I go first, sir? She's lying right by the door. And you might chip over, huh? By all means. You might derive that. These is the gentleman from Scotland Yard, Constable. Yes, sir. Hey, this is her. Miss Margaret Evans, sir. Age 61. Servant. Living in. Aw. See what you can find out, Bennett. Right, sir. Small. Get started looking for fingerprints. Yes, sir. Place has really been ransacked, hasn't it? Uh-huh. What's missing? Haven't checked yet, sir. Haven't touched anything. Good. Well, not much chance of finding out if anything is gone, though. Everybody lived here is dead. I'd like to see the others. Right, sir. If you'll come with me. Oh, what's that over there? Teethings? Yes, sir. Looks as if she dropped the tray when she saw the murderer. Have a look at them, too, Small. All right, sir. Down this part, sir. The orchard, that's where they are. Mrs. Ames? And her daughter, Jessica. They have many visitors. Very few, sir. Any places back from her old, didn't a bit by the roses. Hard to tell they do have. Here she is. This is the daughter, I suppose. Right, sir. Her mother's over there, off the path. The daughter was running away toward the house. Mother was facing the other way. Shot in the back, too. Aye. Found anything here in the grass? Cartridge cases, anything? No, sir. We did find this glove, though, sir. Sorry, I had it in my pocket. Almost forgot it. Oh, woman's glove. Size six, I'd say. Hogskin. Shop sells thousands a week. Left hand. Whose is it? Isn't Mrs. Ames, sir, too small? Or Miss Jessica's either. Too large, I'd say, wouldn't you? Yeah. Yes, I think so. Maybe the murderer, sir. We'll see. All you found? Oh, so far, sir. Where was the glove? Over there, sir. I marked the spot with those two sticks. Alongside the mother's body? Yes, sir. Well, as soon as Bernard's examined the bodies, I think you'd better have all this grass side down and see if you can find anything else. Cartridge case or anything. Right, sir. Shall we walk back to the house? Yes, sir. Grunting land. Take a walk. Talk in the bite a chap up there. I hope he suits some Jerry's bloody ears off. He probably will. Got a son in the raft, flight sergeant of the Coastal Command. Good man. Nineteen years old. When I was 19, I was a farm man for good old Uncle Tom Covey. What if they found anything yet in there, sir? We'll see. Oh, here's Bernard. Anything yet? Well, I want to see the other bodies first. Discovered a little so far. Where are the, um... Down the path back there, sir. We've touched nothing except this glove. Oh, is this one of theirs? Wrong size. All right. You can remove the bodies as soon as I finish, Chief Constable. Yes, sir. I'll have the band here at once. Can you see to it, please? Yes, sir. What are you doing, small? I'm trying to fit these cups together, sir. Well, what about fingerprints? I wanted you to... I found a good many, sir. They all checked with hers. Oh, how did you know they were ours? Oh, I took hers. I wish life peoples were as easy to take. No others? Well, I'm not sure yet, sir. As soon as I get the others down there, I'll make a very thorough check. These cups and sources. She dropped them when she saw the murderer, probably. That's quite. But why should there be four cups, sir? Four? One for the mother, one for the daughter, one for the maid, for her? Sevens was more a companion than a seven, sir. Here in Matfield, we... Ah, ah, yes. And one for the murderer. I then must have known the murderer. People don't usually offer a cup of tea to a perfect stranger. You could make up a list of their friends, Chief Constable. And very few friends, sir. Kind of standoffish like they was. And the boss in the... Oh, sir, postmistress. Not in a real close friend, so to speak. Make up a list and check where they all were yesterday. Yes, sir. What about this estranged husband of Mrs. Ames? Would he have a motive? Oh, I don't think so, sir. He used to come visit her, I know, but... Oh, he did, eh? And he's in London now, you said. I went down yesterday morning, they said, sir. Where does he live, you say? Pittington, sir. near Oxford. You take over, Sergeant Small. You and Mr. Bernard. I'll call you from Pittington. Pittington, sir? Do you think... I think I'd like to know whether our friendly ex-husband was really in London yesterday, or elsewhere. Pittington, not afternoon, 70 miles away from Matfield, Jim Davies, the man of all work, explained to Chief Superintendent Carute that John Ames had not yet returned from London. Miss Viola Masterson, the manager of the Ames Farm, however, was at home, recovering from an accident. Carute spoke to her in her sitting room. Her left arm was in bandages, and she was obviously in slight pain. Carute sympathized with her. I'm so sorry to disturb you, Miss Masterson. It's quite all right. I'll be up in about a minute, sir. It pains a little, though, now. I suppose you've heard about the former Mrs. Ames and her daughter. I'm so dreadfully sorry. I knew them slightly, you know. Oh, did you? I'd have gone over to Matfield if I hadn't been so stupid as to fall off my bicycle and injure my arm. I'm afraid I'm not a very good cyclist. Oh, do you have any clues as to the... the... Murderer? Very few at the moment. Very few, I'm afraid. Oh, what a pity. Miss Rames went to London yesterday, hmm? Yes. He was probably in London while his former wife and daughter were murdered. He often stops in to see them on his way. If he stopped there yesterday, he might have prevented it. Yes, yes. I suppose he can account for his movements yesterday. I'm quite sure he can, Superintendent. I expect him at any moment. You were here at the farm all day. I wrote about the farm all day on my bicycle until I had the accident. I'm sure Jimmy Davis can confirm that. And the bicycle is still where I left it, where I fell off, unless Jimmy's brought it back. I see. By the way, have you ever seen this glove before? Oh, let me see it. No, I'm afraid not. Did it belong to...? We're not quite sure. Well, it's not mine. Much too big for me, I'm sure, Superintendent. You've never seen it before? Never. Thank you, Miss Masterson. Is that all you wanted? Aren't you going to wait till Mr. Aimee? Oh, I don't like to disturb you, Miss Masterson. I'll wait out there with Jimmy. It is Jimmy, isn't it? By all means, talk to Jimmy. I'm sure he'll confirm everything I've said. Good day, Miss Masterson. You know where to find Jimmy. He was sitting alongside the stable door, cleaning a shotgun, and I hard-saw him. Jimmy Davis was a simple-minded man. He didn't realize that he was talking much too freely to the friendly Scotland Yardman. It'd be a terrible thing I expect, but... I don't shed no tears for him. I didn't like her, nor a daughter, neither. Hated them? They've been none of my business, sir. But now, Mr. Aimes, he'd be a real fine man. And she... She treated him awful bad. How? Doug in the manger. Kicks him out, she does. And then when he finally meets a woman he loves and that woman loving him, she won't give him no divorce. You seem to know a lot about Mr. Aimes' affairs, Jimmy. Him and me? We'd be just like that. Why do anything for that man? Her too, for that matter. Who? Miss Masterson. There. Well, that's pretty clean, ain't it? Let's see. Clean as I'd ever want a gun to be. Had it for years. Old-fashioned, like me. But she'd be a good shotgun. He uses it all the time for rabbits. Mr. Aimes. He envies his own shells too. Miss Masterson, she's scared of it. Tried to teach her how to shoot it. But she was scared. You couldn't kill a person with this here, Gunnoy, says to her. Not unless she got up real close. Funny thing, though. She shot a rabbit with it yesterday. You know what made her so sick at her stomach when she shot the poor little fella? Never again, she says to me. Did you see the rabbit, Jimmy? Well, while we're left of it, she were too close. Well, not worth bringing back to cook. You know, I think that's why she fell off her bicycle thinking about it. Where did she fall? Where she was in the meadow, yonder. The wheel slipped on the grass. Jimmy, did you ever see this glum before? Huh? No, sir. Well, can't see as how I have. Sure. No, sir. Who's is it? I found it. Well, finders, keepers. That's what they say. So you don't think Mr. Aimes and Miss Masterson will be upset by Mrs. Aimes' death? No, bless you, no, sir. Now they can get married. Well, that dog and the manger wife of his. Well, he must have been the last one to see her alive. Oh, how's that? Well, when he stopped us here on the way to London yesterday. Why, I thought you was going to wait for him to come back, sir. Chief Superintendent Carruth hurried to the local police station where he put through a trunk telephone call to Matfield. Detective Sergeant Small, the scoffin' yard man, answered the telephone at the murder house. Small, here. Small, I want you to check at once on something. Yes, sir. I want you to make the most diligent inquiries. Get that Chief Constable there to inquire of every person in Matfield if necessary at once. To discover if this man, Aimes, was seen in Matfield yesterday. You got that? He was seen, sir. He was? The postman, sir. We've been making inquiries all over the village of Mrs. Aimes' known friends. And we've come across several curious things, sir. Well? Well, the postman observed Mr. Aimes walking toward this house yesterday afternoon. He sure? He positively identified him, sir, known him for years. Spoke to him, called him by name, and Aimes replied. What else? He was carrying a shotgun, sir. Oh, I discovered here that he intended to visit them. But the gun... Well, looks as if he's our man, doesn't it? What else did you discover? Well, there's a bicycle belonging to Mrs. Aimes' missing. Oh? And the porter at the railway station reports a strange woman carrying a parcel arrived in town yesterday, so far we have been unable to trace her. Now, the local police have picked up a deserter from an army camp near here. He's been questioned now. And a lorry driver for the gas company at Oxford reports picking up a woman on the highway near here yesterday afternoon. She was wearing one glove. Oh? He thinks her bare hand was scratched and bleeding. Yes? She explained she'd fallen off her bicycle and was trying to catch a train. He took her to the railway station. I didn't say anything. Yes, but... He spent cartridges, Superintendent. Yes? Yes, yes, I know. The, uh, murder... Yes, but... Probably Carruth... Did you recover any of the shot from the bodies? Yes. Mark it in evidence and hold it for me. I think those little lead pellets are going to hang someone, Bernard. Chief Inspector Carruth found that Aimes had returned in his absence. Jamie, the careless man of all work was just leaving. He was going to fetch Miss Masterson's abandoned bicycle he said. Maybe going out to fetch Miss Masterson's bicycle, sir. Look here, Jamie. Would you like a half a crown? What for? That rabbit, Miss Masterson shot. Is it near where she left the bicycle? Oh, far longer to, sir. Fetch it back for. And what for, sir? Well, it's been fit to eat. She was too close. Oh, I've a fancy to see how that gun of yours works, Jim. Oh, that old gun of mine, uh, she'd be a very good gun, sir. Show me. Here. Well... Good man. Now, is Mr. Aimes in the house? All right, sir. No, I'll fetch the rabbit and show you. But the poor thing will be all full of bird shot, sir. That'll be all right, Jamie. I'm very interested in bird shot. Yes. I'm Chief Superintendent Carruth of Scotland Yard. You're John Aimes, huh? Yes. Now, you're the gentleman who was here this afternoon. Yes. May I come in? Do. You've come about the murder of my wife and daughter. Yes. I'm sorry, Mr. Carruth, you said? Yes. I cannot pretend any great grief, although I am shocked at the tragic. May I sit down? I, uh, I spoke to Miss Masterson, your manager, this afternoon. She said you were here. Perhaps if Miss Masterson is strong enough... Here I am. Oh, sit down, my dear. Please, sit down. Don't hurt my hand, John. I'm all right. Well, sir? Am I correct in assuming that, uh, with the death of this, or Aimes' and strange wife, you and he... We can be married, yes. Mr. Aimes? That is true. My wife has consistently refused to give me a divorce. Although we were on fairly good terms. She and I weren't. I'm glad she's dead. Violet, yes. And that horrid daughter of hers, too. Better than once and for all. Violet, do you share Miss Masterson's views, Mr. Aimes? I'm afraid. Perhaps he's not as ferocious as I am, but he shares my views all right. Don't you, John? Uh... Yes, and what were you doing with a shotgun on the way to our home yesterday, Mr. Aimes? John, you didn't. You didn't. Mr. Aimes. Oh, John. Now you spoiled everything. Your wife and your daughter were murdered with a shotgun, Mr. Aimes. I didn't do it. He didn't, he didn't, I say. What gauge is your shotgun, Mr. Aimes? This is absurd, Mr. Aimes. Yes, of course it's absurd. Why do you think it's absurd? My dear sir, my gun, which incidentally is an American-made remington over an under-12 gauge, has been broken for four weeks. You see? Broken. The seerspring is broken. It's quite impossible to fire the gun. You can examine the gun at your leisure at Hennie McGovern's The Gunsmiths on High Horburn in London where I took it yesterday. We'll check that. Why did you visit your wife yesterday carrying your broken gun? I dropped off in Matfield on my way to London to have the gun repaired. I begged her again to give me a divorce. She refused? She refused again. For the last time, and we're going to be married now at last. You don't expect us to weep for her. Whoever killed her should be given a medal of... Byler. Oh, stop it, you're just as glad as I am. Aren't you? Excuse me. We'll tell her. Yes? Yes, he's here. One moment. It's for you, Mr. Carruth. Thank you. Chief Superintendent Carruth here. Oh. This is where the lorry driver picked up the woman with one glove. Oh, good. There were numerous fingerprints on the handlebars, sir, but of the right hand only. That's interesting. And the strange woman whom the railway reporter observed was carrying a parcel, you remember? Yes, yes, of course. It was a long parcel about the length of a gun, he says. Captain Brown paper. I see. Have you taken the things you spoke about? The things, sir? Yes. The fingerprints on the bicycle? Yes, quite. Yes, sir, I've taken them. How soon could I see them and the people you spoke of? Up there, sir? Yes. I think you'd better come then if you can find the others you mentioned. I'll meet you at the Pittington station. Right, sir. Bye. I'm very sorry. Could I ask? You haven't covered some other evidence, sir? You're not going to arrest John then. He won't be charged with murder. I think I can almost assure you that you will not be charged with murder, Mr. Ames. I'm sorry. I must go and meet my colleagues. This is quite important. Will you be coming back? I probably shall. I shall want to be able to assure Mr. Ames that he will not be held. Oh, John. That's a surprise. Is the Scotland Yardman still here, Mr. Ames? I'm here, Jimmy. Well, I fetch you the dead rabbit, sir, with your half-crowns worth of bird shot. Railway station, two hours later. Detective Sergeant Small, Chief Constable Bennett, the lorry driver who had picked up the woman with the bloody hand and the one glove, and the railway porter who had observed the woman carrying the brown paper parcel the size of a gun. Leaving Chief Constable Bennett at the station to make a telephone call, the party proceeded to the Ames farm. Good evening, Mr. Ames. Dr. Ruth. May we come in, please? This is quite a delegation. May we come in, please? I suppose. Do come in, although. Thank you. Where's Miss Masterson? Viola? Yes, dear. Why, what? Miss Masterson, do you recognize any of these people? Why? I do, of course not. Patterson, do you recognize this woman? Eh, she's the lady in blue slacks I picked up my lorry on the road in Muckfield yesterday. The lady that set she fill off a bike around was all bloody and she had one glove on. Like this one? Yes, sir. Exactly like that. O'Connor. Yes, sir? Have you ever seen this lady before? I've seen her yesterday, sir. Getting off the 1206 train that passes through Pittington before it gets to Batfield. She was wearing blue slacks and she had a brown paper parcel about the size of a gun, sir. Now, look here, what's the meaning of all this? Yes. Come in. Well, Bennett. Just like you thought, sir. I telephoned the doctor who treated Miss Masterson and he informs me that he treated a left hand for multiple lacerations. Removing the particles of road gravel and stains of tarvia from the palm. Miss Masterson. There is no gravel or tarvia at the meadow. Thank you. Mr. Ames, I'm extremely sorry for you. John, now we won't get married. Viola Masterson, I arrest you on the charge of willful murder. I wanted to get married and she stood in our way. And I must warn you that anything you say will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you. John, what have I done? The evidence is used by Chief Superintendent Karuth. The identification is by the lorry driver and the railway porter. John Peretz, which proved identical with those Miss Masterson had fired into the unfortunate rabbit. The glove which was identified as hers by the store which had sold it to her. The gravel from the road in her wounded hand and the motive which was all too plain proved sufficient evidence to convict Viola Masterson of the murders of Mrs. Ames and her daughter and of the servant Margaret Evans who provided the first cue. Miss Masterson had determined to murder the servant to eliminate the only witness to the murder of the others. In a trial marked with frequent air raid alarms caused by an enemy whose depredations could not prevent murder from going on as usual, she was found criminally insane and is now imprisoned in the asylum of Broadmoor. John Ames was tried as an accomplice but acquitted. He joined the first battalion of the buffs and was reported missing in action in the Italian campaign. Constable, you may turn the file 302 MR 651 the Blitz murder case to the records room. Good afternoon. You've just heard the first kicks in the series Whitehall 1212 drawn from the official files of Scotland Yard by permission of Commissioner Sir Harold Scott. All names were changed in this story for obvious reasons but everything else is true. It occurred. Whitehall 1212 is written and directed for radio by Willis Cooper. Next, listen for Tales of the Texas Rangers on NBC.