 The story you are about to hear is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned a forgery detail. For the past six weeks a man has been passing phony payroll checks in your city. You've got a description but no positive identification. The check forgeries continue. Your job? Stop them. It was Tuesday, May 17th. It was windy in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out a forgery detail. My partner's Frank Smith. The boss is Captain Welsh. My name's Friday. We're on our way back from lunch and it was 1.13 p.m. when we got to room 29. Forgery. Yes, I see. Hold on a minute, will you please? Hey, Joe. Yeah? Skipper wants to talk to you and Smith. Right, thanks. Well, just one thing, man. Could you tell me what kind of account it is? Yes, ma'am, I understand that. Come in. Hi, Skipper. You want to see it? Yes. Sit down. I guess you know what's on my mind. Oh, we've got a pretty good idea, yeah. The corner pocket had me in this morning and gotten beefed from all over town. Factors raising cane because their employees can't cash legitimate payroll checks. Merchant scared to death of being stuck with a phony. Making any headway on this guy? Not much. Well, just where do we stand? Lay it out. Well, he passed another one last Tuesday at a tailor shop on South Jefferson. How many does that make? 24 that we know of. All in the last six weeks? You ever take a couple of days? You sure they're from the same guy? Same M.O.'s, same description. A couple of times he had a woman with him. Said she was his wife. He set out circulars on a boat. Got any results? One or two leads. They didn't pan out. What about your informants? Nothing. They're holding out? I don't think so. I don't think they know them. Got them a while. Yeah? Yeah, they're here. Mm-hmm. I see. You okay? Give me the address. Yeah, I got it. Don't worry, I'll tell them. 24 bum checks, huh? That's right, Skipper. That's wrong. Huh? 25 now. On April 6, we'd received the first report in this series of check forgeries. A grocery store in the corner of Oakwood and 3rd had cast what appeared to be a payroll check from the Jeffers-Conner Aircraft Company. It was Mark Payable to Russell J. Foreman. In our investigation, Frank and I had learned that the check was fictitious and that the company had never employed anybody by that name. We had also learned that bonafide Jeffers-Conner checks were printed in a different manner and in a different color. During the next five weeks, we'd received additional reports of Ford's payroll checks supposedly issued by various Los Angeles manufacturers. In each case, the suspect had had what seemed to be good identification, either a driver's license or an employment ID card from the company named on the check. The suspect had never used the same name or the same plant twice, but descriptions given by victims had indicated that the forgeries were all the work of one man. On three occasions, he'd been accompanied by a woman who had been introduced as his wife. Victims had been unable to make an identification from our mugbugs. Descriptions of both suspects, and their ammo had been checked to the stats office and had been sent to CII up in Sacramento. A local and an APP had been gotten out. The 25th victim was Alvin Driscoll, owner of a men's clothing store on South Maryland Avenue. Frank and I interviewed him at his shop. He told us that the Ford's check, which he had cashed, appeared to be from the Elderdale Oil Refinery. I'd come into the store, bought a couple items, give me his payroll, we'll check the pay form. That's all there was to it. That was last Friday? Friday morning, along about 9.30 a.m. What was it he bought, Mr. Driscoll? Sports shirts. That count over there. Marked down to $298. Some of them were the highest $5 last year. They're real good buys, believe me. Yeah, medium. That was his size. What else can you tell us about this man? How's that? What do you look like? Well, like I said, he takes a medium shirt. That make him move pretty average. About $1.70, I judge. Black hair, a little bit of gray in it. Pleasant face. Ordinary follow, I mean. How's he dressed? A suit, shirt, button down collar. The charcoal brown, about the shade of the... That went on the rack over there, down there. See it? When he gave me the check, did you ask for any identification? Well, I didn't have to ask. He just handed over. He had a whole wallet full. Driver's license, union card, whole wallet full. Well, that may have been forged, too. Well, it looked genuine to me. Yes, sir. Wasn't any way of my knowing it was phony. I done just what I was supposed to, everything. Make sure you get identification of your cash check. Mm-hmm. That's what the bank says. It's what you police fellows say, too, isn't it? Yes, sir. Mm-hmm. Well, I'm still out of $100, ain't I? Looks that way, doesn't it? Mr. Dresskel, is there anything you can tell us about this man? Well, uh... No, no, nothing that comes to mind. Did he have a car? Do you know that? Yeah, I know. Well, did he? Brand new Ford convertible. You know, one of them two-tone models probably wasn't even broken yet, but they sure don't keep him from gunning it when he went balling out of here. Are you certain about this? About what? Well, that he was driving a new Ford convertible. Well, I guess I know one when I see one. I'm considering buying a new Ford myself, not like that snazzy roadster he had to see down, maybe. Had me a demonstration drive a couple weeks ago. I see. Oh, my, now I'll probably have to make out with my old plunker another year. Thanks to him, bum check. Oh, sir, did you happen to notice the license number? On the convertible? Yes. Yes, I noticed it. Well, do you happen to know if it was a California player or an out-of-state? It's California. Do you remember the number? Now what do you fellas think I am, anyway? You expect me to memorize a whole string of figures like that when I only seen them once? I ain't no quiz kid. Yes, sir. When you're my age, you can't keep every little thing in your head, you know? Yes, sir. Would it really make any difference if you lost that license number? Well, yes, sir, it might. And I guess it's a good thing I jotted it down. The victim, Alvin Driscoll, checked his files and showed us a carbon copy of the sales slip for the items with the suspected purchase. On it, he had noted the license number, R-1-V-1-5347. 3.38 p.m. Frank and I went back to the office and asked EMV to run down the number for us. That's right. 5347. What do you call us back? Okay, thanks. It'll be a minute or two, Joe. Looks like we might be getting our first break. Yeah. You got a cigarette? Yeah. You all out? I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't. Oh, okay. Me neither, Joe. Here you go. Here you go. No, go ahead and keep them. I got another pack. That's all right. I'll get some more. I told you to keep them, Joe. There's only a couple left. Matter of fact, there's only one. Oh, thanks anyway. All right, Bruce Smith. Wait a minute. Okay, go ahead. Mison? I got it. One, one, seven. Huh. You sure? Okay, thanks. Well, the EMV came up with a Carden-Massette plate, huh? One thing wrong. It isn't a brand new Ford. Oh. Six-year-old Bewyk. The Department of Motor Vehicles have reported that the car bearing license number R1 B15347 was registered in the name of Philip B. Mison. of Philip B. Mison at 117 South Helen Avenue. Records showed that the car in question was a Buick sedan, which had been manufactured six years earlier. We ran Mison's name through R&I. They had nothing on him. We also ran the license number through our auto records to check to see if it was a stolen plate or a hot car. The report was negative. 4 o'clock 9 PM, Frank and I drove out to the Helen Avenue address. It was a small one-story bungalow with Rain Street stucco walls. Police officers. Well? You're Ms. Philip Mison? Yeah. Ms. Frank Smith, my name's Friday. All right, your name's Friday. His name's Smith. My name's Mison. Where does that go? We'd like to talk to you for a minute, Ms. Mison. You mean you want to come inside? Well, it might be a little easier to talk there. Nobody's stopping me. Yes, ma'am. If you want to sit down, you have to clear off a space. I'm not much of a housekeeper. Sorry, we can stand. Search yourself. Ms. Mison is your husband home? Phil? Yes, ma'am. Mm-mm. Do you know where we might get in touch with him? No. You must have some idea. I haven't seen him since last March. Oh, kind of a car as he drives. Ask him. Do you ever own a Buick sedan? License number R1-V15347. Why? We'd like to know where the car is now. It's out in the garage, and that's where it's staying. You can tell that lousy crumb if he thinks he's going to take the car away from me. He's got another thing coming. Your husband isn't trying to take your car. Yeah? What are you doing here? You'd like to check the license plate, that's all. You're sure that's all you want, just to check the license? That's all. Oh, wait a minute, I'll get you the garage key. Thank you. Sorry if I gave you a rough time, you can't blame me. A character like my husband, he's apt to try anything. Yes, ma'am. Oh, here you are. You sure you lock it up when you're done? Yes, ma'am. I'll take a look at it, Joe. All right. I might have known it was too good to last. Ma'am? Not hearing from Phil for over two months. Is he still in Los Angeles, would you know? Not if he's got good sense. What do you mean? If he's smart, he'll stay as far away from me as he can. Yeah. He's just plain lucky I didn't kill him. Giving me a shirt with some other dame's lipstick on the collar expecting me to wash it off. He should have throttled him with it. Well, you have a picture of your husband, Ms. Mason. Why? We'd like to know what he looks like. Like a bum, that's what. You have a picture? Snapshot, maybe. Would you see if you can find one for us? All right. Just looking at him will probably spoil my supper. Yeah, here's something. I'm married to a face like that, and I have to worry about other women. All right, if we borrow this for a couple of days. Do me a favor. Keep. Joe, excuse me, Ms. Mason. Yeah. It's the right license plate for our car. Do you like sedan? Just like the MV had at six years old. OK. Here's your key, ma'am. You locked up tight? Yes, ma'am. Sorry if we bothered you. Don't forget it. Hey, wait a minute. Yes? Not that I give a darn, but how about telling me why you're so interested in Phil? It was just a police matter. You don't think he pulled a job or something? Why should we think that? You shouldn't. You do your way off base. You really picked the wrong guy. Yes, ma'am. Take it from me. If a jerk like Phil ever got out of line once, just once, you boys wouldn't have to go looking for him. Oh? No. You'd catch him red-handed. Frank and I left the Mason home and contacted Alvin Driscoll. He confirmed his description of the suspect's car, but he admitted he might have been mistaken about the license number. We showed him Mason's photograph, and he was certain that Mason was not the man who had passed the Ford's check. The next day, May 18th, we showed the Mason photo to several of the other victims. They all agreed that he was not the Ford here. 11-17 a.m., we went over to DMV and began to try variations of the license number Mr. Driscoll had given us to see if we could come up with a late model Ford convertible. 12-32 p.m. How you doing? Well, I turned up a couple of Fords, no convertible. That splits the last two numbers every way I can think of. What are you working on now? V-15. OK, I'll try the five-three part of it. Redmond. New Ford, only one digit off. Convertible? Yeah. So if I could might be it. It's pretty hard to tell, yeah. What do you mean? It belongs to a car rental agency. DMV records showed that a vehicle similar to the one we were looking for was registered to the CP Adams Auto Rental Agency on South 6th Street. 2-17 p.m. Frank and I went over there and talked to the owner, Clifford P. Adams. Would you give me that number again, please? It's R1-V35347. All right, I got it. Now, if you just give me a moment to check our records. Yes, sir. Now, we have a stockable with 50 cars. It's a little difficult to remember all the license numbers. Yes, sir, it would be. Here we are. It seems you're quite correct. That's one of our automobiles, a new Ford. Can you tell us what model it is? It's a convertible, yellow and black. Most of our cars are convertibles when people come to Southern California and that's what they all want. Yes, sir. Anything else I can do for you? Yeah, is that car rented right now? Well, I couldn't say offhand. Would you like me to find out? If you will, please. Be glad to. Be glad to. It's a different file, that's all. All right, sir. Let's see. All right, this is it. Now, that car's in the shop today. Grease job, oil change, regular checkup. Do you have the names of the people who've rented it lately? They're right here on the card. Any particular date? How about last week? Thursday. And Thursday, that would be Mr. Waters. Mr. Gerald Waters. He used the car all last week. Just turned it back yesterday. Your regular customer? He's rented from the several times, as I recall, on an offer in the last month or so. Can you tell us what he looks like? Actually, I've only seen him once or twice. He's a youngish man, about 40. Tall, black hair, a little gray at the temple. How about his wife? Do you ever meet her? Yeah, she picked up car forms. Would you describe her, please? I think she was blonde. Nice looking, probably in her 30s. That's about all I can remember. Yeah, their address, Mr. Adams. Oh, yes, yes. We try to get all the information we can about our clients, but I'm afraid it's in the different files. All right, take your time. Someday, we'll have to work out a more efficient system for all these records. Thompson, Tucker, Virgil, what? Yeah, yes, this is it. Paul Madress, Springfield, Illinois. What about here in town? Oh, we have that, too, the Havenhouse Motel on Sunset Boulevard. I see. But I'm afraid you won't be able to reach them there. Oh? When Mr. Waters turned in the car yesterday, he asked us to drive him and his wife to Union Station. Yeah. Yeah, he said they were leaving town. We've got a sample of the suspect's handwriting, and we asked Mr. Adams to get in touch with us if he heard from Gerald Waters again. We sent a teletype to Springfield, Illinois, requesting any information they might have about Gerald Waters. The next day, May 19, the Springfield PD replied that a man answering Waters' description was wanted for a series of Illinois check forgeries. They also said his true name was Fred H. Joyce. They said that they were forwarding a mugshot airmail special delivery. The mug arrived on Friday, May 20. We showed it to four of the check victims and they all positively identified the photograph. 3.36 PM, Frank and I drove over to the Adams Car Rental Agency to confirm the identification. Hi, Mr. Adams. Well, well, well, this is quite a coincidence. Sir? You're coming here today. I just called you a little while ago. We didn't get any message. Well, I didn't leave any message. I wasn't sure it was important. Well, what was it you wanted? About Mr. Waters. You told me to let you know if I heard from him again. That's right. Well, I did. What's that? He wants to ride another car. We showed Mr. Adams the mugshot of Fred Joyce, and he stated positively that Gerald Waters and Joyce were the same man. He also told us that Waters had called the car rental agency about 11 o'clock that morning to make arrangements for renting a new convertible. Joyce had asked them to have the car ready at 5.30. He said he would pick it up. Frank and I waited in Adams' office at 5.28 PM. I'm going to go ahead and answer. Is C.P. Adams car rentals? Who? Oh, yes, just a minute. It's him, Mr. Waters, or whatever his real name is. I don't know what he wants. Yes, Mr. Waters. Oh, yes, it's him. Oh, yes, it's already. I thought you were going to pick it up. Oh, well, I... I don't know. Hold on a second. He says he's tied up that he can't get away. He wants us to deliver the car. Ask him where he's falling from. Where are you, Mr. Waters? I say. Well, I don't know. I'm a little shorthanded today. I'll have to check. He won't be somewhere on Wilshire. Or does he want you to send the car? Where do you want the car delivered, Mr. Waters? Mm-hmm. The Crest Plaza. How soon? I guess we could make it by then. All right, Mr. Waters, we'll do our best. Thank you very much. You'll be in the bar of the Crest Plaza Hotel at 6.30, just off the lobby. Right, thanks a lot. Oh, about the car, I wouldn't want a damage. Don't worry, Mr. Adams, you don't need to send it. What? We'll take care of his transportation. We went over to the Crest Plaza Hotel. It was 6.28 p.m. when we arrived. There were two entrances to the bar. Frank went in through the lobby and I used the street door. Yes, sir, what can I do for you? You got any hot coffee? Yeah. Black, please. That all you want? Yeah, that's all. It's not very busy tonight, are you? That place liven's up later on. All right. Good evening. Hi, you two guys together? That's right. He wants coffee too, huh? Yeah, black. Thank you. Okay, sports, I'll get it. You see him? No, he's probably not here yet. Here you are. Thank you. Hey. Don't mention it. That'll be 20 cents. All right. There you are. You sure you don't want anything to drink? No. All right. Would you mind finishing the coffee over in a booth? What do you mean? Well, it's not good for business. Why? We sell booze, not coffee. Other customers come see you sitting here swallowing coffees. We'll have to give you my ideas. A thing like that catches on. The place will go broke. We're police officers. What? Police officers. Well, what are you doing here? Is something wrong? A couple of questions we want to ask. Yeah, about what? Take a look at this picture. I get to tell us if you know them. Wait a minute. Let me get some light. Yeah. Yeah, I see this guy around. Do you live here in the hotel? I don't think so. He comes in once in a while, though. He usually drags a blondie around with him. Mm-hmm. You guys were looking for him long? Quite a while, yeah. You must be looking the wrong places. What do you mean? He just walked through the door. That's him. Let's go. How about a dry martini, Annie? A couple of them set pretty good for dinner, huh? Yeah. Something you want? You Gerald Waters. What? Gerald Waters. Is that you? You from the car lot? You come up with the first answer, Mr. How about the names? Yeah, I'm Waters. Where's the car? You won't meet it. Police officers. You're under arrest. You keep out of this, honey. All right. Come on, Waters. Aren't you? You better take it easy. You're allowed to find out you're rousing the wrong guy. Well, I'll tell you, I'm going to run that risk. Get up. Okay. Okay. Keep your hands on the table. I don't know what this is all about, but I know you haven't done anything wrong, Gerald. Whatever happens, I'll stick by here. I'll get a lawyer. I'll raise the money somehow. Whatever happens, I'm never going to give you a chair. Don't worry about it, lady. What? You're coming along. We took the two suspects into custody and drove them down to the city hall. 7.08 p.m. We turned the female suspect over to a policewoman to be searched, and we brought Joyce into the squad room for interrogation. All right, Joyce. Take everything out of your pockets. My name is Waters. You know that. We know it's Joyce, too. Go on, empty. Play the stuff on the table. What are these keys, Fitz? Lockers. Where? I forget. Sure. Listen to why you're holding my wife. She hasn't got anything. If you think you can frame me, go ahead and try it, but turn her loose. That's not up to us. She's been with you too often. What do you mean? When you were passing those phony checks. Phony checks? Is that what you think I've done? There are about 25 people who say it was you. They're wrong. That's odd. They're wrong. They don't think so. Are you willing to go to court? I better shut up. Ever been to Illinois, Joyce? What? Springfield. What do you know about that? You're in the upper brackets, Joyce. We got the whole story. Come on, Joyce. It'll make it easier all around. How about it? Where's Myra? She's all right. Where is she? Right down the hall. I'll tell you what. Yeah. We can get together on this thing. We can come to an agreement. Go ahead. What if I admit the whole deal? I'll tell you all about it. Yeah. What about Myra? Will you let her go? That depends. On what? How clean she is. She'll stand any kind of a look. She's never been in any trouble. And she hasn't got anything to worry about. Go ahead with the story. Okay. I'll get on your side. I'm the guy you're looking for. We knew that going in. Whole thing started right after Myra and I were married. Yeah. It was making pretty good money enough to give her the things she wanted. You know, she's a pretty girl. A woman like that's got to have a nice thing. I don't know how it happened. Just all of a sudden, the bottoms seem to drop out of the whole company. You mean your business? Yeah. Whole thing just seemed to explode no matter what I did. It was wrong. Nothing worked. Couldn't let Myra know about it. They just couldn't. Yeah. I tried to borrow the money, talk to them. My friends tried to get them to stake me again. All I could see of them was their backs. I had to do something. So you started hanging paper? It was the only way. The only one. Do you have any more checks? Yeah. Keys there. They're for locker downtown. You'll find all the stuff there. Okay. All right. Now how about it? What? You let Myra go. She didn't know anything about it. Not a thing. She didn't have anything to do with it. I swear it to you. Mm-hmm. You're not going to hold her, are you? Now that I've told you the truth. Forgery Friday. Yeah. Mm-hmm. Where? Okay. Thank you. They just checked your wife's prints, Joyce. Why'd they do that? You're not going to hold her. You gave me your word. You don't want her for anything. A couple of other states do. What? You aren't the only husband she's had, and you aren't the first forgery she's worked with either. What kind of a double-cross is this? No double-cross. She's got a record as long as you're armed. That's a lie. A dirty, lousy lie. Take it easy, Joyce. Still a lie. Figure it out for yourself. Take a good look. What do you mean? Did your wife know anything about the checks? Sure. After we got going, wasn't any way to keep it away from her. How about when you started? Did she know then? No. You sound pretty sure. Maybe you talked it over with her. I don't know. Maybe she might have helped you out a little. Maybe some of the operations was her idea. How about it, Joyce? I don't know. I don't much care anymore. Maybe it was her idea. Maybe she did play me for a sucker. Sure sounds that way to us. Doesn't really make any difference if she did. Take a look around you cop. Everybody's a sucker. Everybody in the world is going to fall for a con game sooner or later. Everybody. There's guys that cash the checks for me. Suckers. Every one of them. Just like me. Look at all the money they're out. Well, there's a big difference. Huh? That's all they're out. The story you've just heard is true. The names were changed to protect the innocent. On August 17th, trial was held in Department 98 Superior Court of the State of California in and for the county of Los Angeles. Frederick R. Joyce, alias Gerald Waters, was tried and convicted of forgery five counts. Forgery is punishable by imprisonment for a period of not less than one, nor more than 14 years on each count. Authentic story of your police force in action and starring Jack Webb, a presentation of the United States Armed Forces Radio Service.