 For the first time in its history, Scotland Yard opens its official files to bring you the true stories of some of its most baffling cases. Research for Whitehall 1212 is from Percy Hoskins, Chief Crime Reporter of the London Daily Express. The stories for radio are written and directed by Willis Cooper. Now here is the custodian of Scotland Yard's famous black museum, Chief Superintendent John Davidson. Good afternoon. Here in the black museum we have murder weapons in quantity and in variety, there's no doubt you're aware. Killers are not at all particular about the means they employ in their dreadful pursuits, and whatever comes to hand is often useful. Now this, this has served its purpose. It's an electric torch, as you can see. Its shape makes it an excellent weapon of violent death. It fits the hand, and when charged with batteries, it's heavy enough to do considerable damage as this one did, the shape it's in. Well, it had a great deal to do with a man's death, and the man who wielded it died too. The torch here didn't cause his death. It was a hangman's knot that struck him under the left ear. Chief Inspector Francis Hand can tell you a great deal about it, can't you, Francis? That I can, John. The Chief Inspector Lawrence Campbell Bannerman and I were assigned to this case, which took place in Wimbledon in the early autumn of 1937, old boy, September of 1937. That's right, it was the 16th of September, wasn't it? That's right, just 15 years ago, Wimbledon, that's right. When we got to the house we found quite a display. This place wasn't the house, quite nice indeed, good, solid construction, good taste. Well, it was a builder himself, wasn't it, the fellow, weren't it? The man who was killed. What was his name? Apgolpen. Jeffrey Apgolpen. He's a big handsome chap in his late 50s, dead, dead as Jewish Caesar, there was all the family silver laid out about him. He had some nice things. Really fine things, tableware and a few other things, mugs, heavy silver candlesticks, all ready to go, complete with Green Bay's bag to carry them in. And that battered electric torch on the floor, alongside his well-battered head, and blood. The revolver shots caught most of the blood. That's right, the revolver was there too. His own revolver. And the doors locked. We went in. This is what we discovered. Jeffrey Apgolpen's body was lying in one corner of the dining room, which was quite a large one. Two or three chairs had been knocked over. The dining table itself was scarred in several places, as if a heavy body had bumped against it. One or two pictures on the wall were crooked. There were muddy footprints on the carpet, and the heavy buffet stood with its doors open and two of its drawers pulled out and empty. On the floor stood the Apgolpen's silver carefully arranged in groups, and looking a little like... Like a blast at Stovendor, wasn't it, Francis? Except for the bag lying in the middle of the display, a Green Bay's bag, very professional appearing, and half a dozen knives and forks spilling out of it. And some spoons, I remember. As if an experienced burglar had been quietly at work and had suddenly been interrupted. Tell about Apgolpen. Oh, yes. Yes. He was lying in a heap. His hands empty, his arms stretched out as if he'd been about to see someone. Burglar very likely, we thought. The carpet was quite stained with blood, but first it wasn't apparent how he'd been killed. Oh, he was quite dead. When we moved the body, we discovered how he'd been killed. Androom was the battered electric torch. The one Chief Superintendent Davidson showed you. He was shockingly battered, stained with blood, and there were marks on his head that seemed roughly to fit the marks on the torch, but that wasn't what killed him. There were also two bullet wounds in his head. He'd been shot at close range, and there was a good deal of powder blackening on the body. He'd obviously been shot at close range. But when we looked for the gun, it wasn't there. We found it, though. It was on the floor, just outside the door that led to a hall. A full five feet away from the body. And yet, obviously, been shot, Francis said, at very close range. The gun had been held, I judge, not more than an inch or two away from him. Tell them about the really strange part, though, Francis. Oh, yes. The telephone rang. Kept on ringing while we searched high and low for it. I found it at last. Hello? I said it's quite as possible. Yes, this is Mr. Aftropford. I beg your pardon. One moment, please. What do they want? Someone wants to speak to Mrs. Aftropford. Mrs. Aftropford? Is there a Mrs. Aftropford? Must be. They're calling for our boss. Hello? Excuse me, just a second, please. What do I do? Ask who's calling. Good. Excuse me. May I ask who's calling, please? I beg your pardon. I'm afraid I'll have to know who's calling Mrs. Aftropford. Huh? I mean, I said it was obviously impossible, wasn't it? For Mr. Jeffery Aftropford to be calling his home by telephone. For Mr. Jeffery Aftropford lay there before us, most convincingly dead. And if I may quote Algernon Charles Swinburne, dead men rise up never. The Garden of Prosopin stands at 12. The Garden of Prosopin, and its 11th stand, beg your pardon. The dead men rise up never. Mr. Aftropford never moved. And the voice on the telephone spoke again. And broke out the connection. I couldn't agree more that Mr. Aftropford's gone, and I immediately rang back to see where Mr. Aftropford might be calling from. I don't keep them in suspense, old boy. It was a sanitarium calling. Now, don't be giving the wrong impression, Lawrence. Not an asylum or anything like that. It developed Mr. A had been... Confirmed. Had been... Committed. B still do. He had been staying in this sanitarium because he was a drinking man. He drank to excess, and... He's going through a course of treatment, remedy, or alleviate some of the suffering he had been experiencing. He had been there for several weeks, leaving his wife alone in a great house, and he had been certified as recovered. Practically recovered. And he had taken a sudden notion to telephone his wife on a matter of importance. And had asked one of the attendants to ring up his home for him. And before the attendant made the call, Mr. Aftropford left the place without saying a word to anyone, obviously, to return home. Just in time to be killed. That's right. He had told the attendant that it was of the utmost importance that he speak to Mrs. Aftropford once. It was obviously of such importance that he felt he couldn't wait. But what did he want to tell her? You see, he hadn't told the attendant, and his wife couldn't have known. Certainly, Mr. Aftropford couldn't tell us now. The message must have been an important one. But what was it? Obviously, the next step is to consult the lady in question. Mrs. Aftrop herself. Mrs. Cornelia Aftrop. She might possibly have some idea of why her husband had attempted to telephone her and then abandoned the effort to return home. Just in time to be murdered. Leaving the body of the deceased to be taken away for an autopsy, Campbell Bannerman and I went looking for her. We had not far to go. She was at the Wimbledon police station in a state of collapse. We found a belly able to speak. I'm sorry I wasn't able to see you, gentlemen. We're sorry, too, Mrs. Aftropford. The pity we must disturb you... I quite understand. Have you discovered anything that I ought to know? I mean... We've discovered nothing yet, except nothing. We were hoping that you could tell us something, Mrs. Aftropford. Yes, we hoped... I'm afraid I've said everything, but... Would you mind telling us? This is the first time we've seen you, you know. All we know is what the officers who were first called were able to tell us. If you don't mind, then, Mrs. Aftropford. Perhaps you'll know that my husband has been away for some time. He's been ill? Ill? Yes, we know that. I've been away from home, too. Where have you been, madam? Well, only the last few days. I was so lonely in that great house, all alone. Where were you, Mrs. Aftropford? I was visiting friends. But I became worried about our place tonight. The silver and our other valuables, you know, and I've heard stories about burglars, and so I called a cab and hurried home. I'm sure you can confirm that with the cab people. Where were you, madam? Oh, I was visiting my friends, Alice and Eric Shield. And where do they live? Here in Wimbledon. Where, please? Oh, their place is called Portulaca Cottage. It's on Ealy Road, near the common. Vaughn? Huh? Alice Shield can tell you she wanted to come with me, but... Oh, wait then, Vaughn, please. Right. Uh, how about this Mr. Shield? He can... No, he wasn't at home when I left their house. Oh? Where was he? I don't know. He often worked late. I assume he was working. Just the impression I got from Alice. I mean, I hardly ever saw Eric. No, no, he wasn't at home. They know about... I think the people here at the police station tell us something. Find out, Lawrence. Would you like a good chance? Of course. I suppose Eric must have come home just after I left. Probably. He always does come home. Naturally. Uh... You say you didn't know your husband was returning home tonight? No, of course not. He was at the nursing home. In Ontario. I didn't expect him for another week, since to find him. That is the way you found him. But all the silver there on the floor... He was lying there. Red full shock, madam. I, um... Why do you suppose he came home? I don't know. I hadn't the slightest idea. You had no warning? None, whatever. To find him like this. Did your husband have a revolver? What? A revolver? Yes, he had a revolver. It is possible, then, he was shot with his own revolver. Oh, yes, that it is a revolver. Huh? I saw it out the floor. Yeah, we saw it. They tell him, madam, it's a shield. I talked to him, too. Oh, good. What else? Well, they talked to Mrs. Shield. He wasn't home, but he came in while they were talking. What did he say? They were quite shocked. He wanted to come over here to the police station. Oh, no. Oh, they said he didn't have to. Thank you, Lauren. Sit down. Thank you. Uh, Mrs. Aptop, you said you have no idea why your husband came home at this particular time. No, not this flight. Excuse me. Excuse me, Lauren. I was going to ask Mrs. Aptop if she knew any reason why her husband should have put in a telephone call for her before he returned. I didn't want to think about any telephone call. He had put in a telephone call for you before he left the sanitarium. Then he apparently changed his mind and came home instead. How on earth did you? The call was put through whilst we were at your home. After your husband had been killed. Well, I haven't the slightest idea. Had he called you before from the sanitarium? Mm-hmm. No. I don't remember if he did. Well, this must have been an important matter. One would think so. Wouldn't one? I can't imagine what it was. Was your husband the worrying type, Mrs. Aptop? No. He must have been worried about something. I don't know what he could be. Do you suppose Mr. Shield might know? The deal? Oh, Eric, I don't think so. I don't know how he could know. Really? Well, he hardly knew my husband. I've asked Mr. Shield to come over here. Why, he asked him to come over here? Yes. You don't mind, friend? Of course not. But I'm afraid I don't quite... Mrs. Aptop, what is your theory of your husband's death? Excuse me. Theory? Why he was killed by a burglar, of course. By a burglar? Well, of course. The silver was all laid out, ready to be taken away. Yeah? The burglar broken in and, finding the house unoccupied, decided to do without a job of it. And then my husband came home. You still have no idea why he came home to unexpectedly? I can't say. No, I just can't imagine. You were saying, madam? Oh, when my husband found the burglar, he started to grapple with him. Well, that's when the burglar struck him with the electric torch. What? Yes, that's what I think, too. I forgot momentarily about the torch. Yes. And then my husband must have broken away and went to get his revolver. He didn't carry the revolver with him. No, no, just in his desk, in a drawer. Go on, please, madam. Well, then the burglar must have shot him. There was no one there when you arrived. No. Just Jeffrey lying on the floor there. The whole thing must have happened before I got there. Perhaps he heard me and ran away. Slamming the door and locking it. Could this thing lock? Yes, I remember. We had a time opening. Well, that must have been the way it happened. Poor old Jeffrey. Don't you think so? Don't you think so? Well, that's the way it looks, isn't it? That's the way it looks to me. This is that thought. You were on good terms with your husband, of course, weren't you? I? Yes. Frankly, Chief Inspector, I was not on the very best of terms with him. Everyone knows we quarreled. My husband, Jack. My husband's would drink to excess often, for all that while. I didn't want to be under any false pretenses with you. Of course not. You'd find out anyway, but he was my husband. And you learned it? Yes, I loved him. Excuse me. Excuse me. I wish I knew why he telephoned you and why he came home so unexpectedly. I'm sure I have no idea. Perhaps someone at the sanitarium might have an idea. Perhaps he was bored and just decided to come home. Perhaps he felt he was cured and that perhaps he was telephoning me to say that he was coming home. I have. Perhaps he meant, I mean, he might have changed his mind about telling you and decided to surprise you. That's not being it. Mm-hmm. He arrived at us singularly in opportune time. Oh, Jeffrey. Well, at least we'll find the man that killed him, Mrs. Aftol. How will you find him? How can you be so sure? They have fingerprints on that electric torch, Mrs. Aftol. Oh, I didn't. Are they really? A fingerprint man's been examining it. Oh. How will he know? We'll compare them with the prints in the criminal records office. We prints of practically every known burglar. But what if the, um, I mean, what if the prints aren't on file? Well, it'll be a little tougher on us, but we'll find them eventually. You think you will? We'll find them, Mrs. Aftol. Somewhere. Is my husband. I mean, is he still there? He's been taken to the mortuary, Mrs. Aftol. Why, did you wish to go home? If he's gone, I mean, would you take me there, please? We'll have someone take you home, Mrs. Aftol. I was hoping you, gentlemen. Oh, I'm so sorry. I should inspect the hand, and I must stay here for a while. We're on duty. I'm so sorry. Can't be helped, although I would wish... We'll be in touch with you, Mrs. Aftol, if you'll excuse us now. Come along, friendship. If you'll just wait here a moment. We'll send someone to drive you home. Thank you. You have our sympathy, Mrs. Aftol. Yes, indeed, Mrs. Aftol. Goodbye. Goodbye. What did you... We could have taken him. Why was I so rude, you mean? Well, you forget. We must see Mr. Eric Shield, my dear hand. Oh, yes, he's coming here, isn't he? What do you want to see him about? Why couldn't we see him with him? We could. I want to see him alone. Why? He doesn't know anything about all this. He wasn't home, he wasn't there. That's what we've been told, isn't it? He wasn't at the murdered man's home, was he? You talk to him, human one. I asked him to come here. Why the heavens, then? I want to ask him a question. And I'd like you to get his answer. What question? I want him to tell us how he knew there was an electric torch involved in this thing, if he'd not been there to see it. This is the last broadcast of Whitehall 1212. We hope that you've enjoyed this series of authentic cases from the official files of Scotland Yard, which is written and directed by Willis Cooper. At the Wimbledon Police Station, Chief Instructor's Hand and Campbell Bannerman of Scotland Yard await the visit of Eric Shield, at whose home the recently bereaved widow has been staying. Chief Inspector Hand speaks. We sat and waited. Campbell Bannerman's sudden revelation was most startling. We stared at each other. But the same thought, I'm sure, was in both our minds. Look here, I said to Campbell Bannerman, she said he wasn't there. That's what he said, too. She said he was at work. That's what he said. How would he know? Excuse me. Yes, Chief Inspector Hand here. Oh, yes, Bernard. Henry Bernard, the pathologist. What's he got to ask? Yes, Henry, yes. He was? You're quite sure? Quite interesting. Quite interesting indeed. You can swear to that? That's extremely interesting. Well, thank you. That puts a very interesting and quite different light on it, doesn't it? Keep his advice, will you, old man? Thank you. I'll tell Chief Inspector Campbell Bannerman he'll be more than interested. Thank you. Goodbye. But here, Lars, that was Henry Bernard. He's... I was thinking of something. Eh, what? There are fingerprints on that electric torture arm, of course, all over the blasted thing. Henry Bernard... Who's there? We'll call the CRO. What if they're not there, Mrs. Apropos? You suppose... I more than suppose. Don't you? I certainly do. I want this man shields print. There's no way of getting him. Yes, there is, huh? Wait. Sergeant Murphy, look here. When I press your buzzer, Sergeant, will you please come in here and take the drinking glass? I'll indicate to you. It'll be right here on the table. Yes. Yes. And take it down to a fingerprint, man. Edward to the center. Take it down and have Sergeant Edward develop any prints he may find on the glass and compare them with the prints on that smashed electric torch we gave him and then ask him to telephone me here at once. You understand? Thank you. Thank you, Sergeant. Thank you, that will do. Won't be admissible as evidence of a stainless fingerprint. Come in. Oh, excuse me. I was looking for Chief Inspector Campbell Bannerman. I'm Campbell Bannerman. I'm Eric Shield. Oh, how do you do? Lizard Chief Inspector Han, Mr. Shield. How do you do? Glad to see you. Sit down. Sure. Sergeant, convenience you. I just wanted to ask you a few questions. Of course. You knew Mr. Jeffrey Apgolf, I believe? Yes, I knew him slightly. And you know Mrs. Apgolf? Cornelia. Oh, yes, my wife and I know her. She's been stopping in our face for a few days while Apgolf's been gone. That's what I did, isn't it? Too bad. I hardly knew the fellow. Quite a drunkard, I believe. You didn't like him? I hardly knew him. Oh, yes, you too, to say. What can I do for you, gentlemen? Well, Mrs. Apgolf mentioned your name. Like it in the water? Thank you. Would you like some more? No, thank you. I'll call Sergeant Murphy. Get some more water, please, Sergeant. Yes, sir. Have you ever been to Mr. Apgolf's house, Mr. Sheehan? No, I haven't. I understand it's quite a place. Burglar broke in there tonight. Burglar killed him? That's what it looked like. Yeah. Too bad. I didn't know him very well. That's what you said. He was beaten to death. Oh? The burglar beat him to death with an electric torch. I thought you said it was shot. When you talked to me on the telephone. Shot. With an electric torch. How did you know about the torch, Mr. Sheehan? Well, you just told me. You mentioned the torch when you talked to me on the telephone. No, I didn't. How could I know anything about it? Did I answer you? Chief Inspector, here's nothing. They are identical. Thank you. That's pretty quickly. It wasn't much trouble. I was waiting with the prince from the torch. What's the matter? They compared your fingerprints on the water glass with the ones on the electric torch, Mr. Sheehan. They're the same. That's not true. It can't be. I didn't. I have you. I didn't. Why did you kill him, Mr. Sheehan? It wasn't admissible evidence, of course, but it was enough to cause the bewildered Sheehan to blurt out the whole story. Yes, I did. I've been in love with Cornelia for years. But you're married, Mr. Sheehan. I love Cornelia. I'm sorry for my wife. I honestly am, but I love Cornelia. How did you do it? Well, I was getting away with Cornelia. I was getting her away from that beast. Marry her? I'll tell you. Go on. This was our opportunity. He was away. And I went to the house with Cornelia. I took my torch, so we wouldn't have to turn off the light. She was picking up her clothes. They were all packed. And she talked too. And just then the door opened. And there was Jeffrey. He heard something about Eric and me, and he screamed at us. He'd run away from the sanitarium, and he was drunk. And he said, I'll kill you. I'll kill you both. And I lifted my torch. It was so horrible. And then you thought you ought to make it look as if a burglar... I took out the silver and arranged it. And then I went away, back home, by a Cornelia called the police. How did he get shot? I don't know. I didn't... I didn't. Cornelia. I knew it had to look like a burglar. And I knew where the revolver was kept. He would take Cornelia. Yes. Eric Shield was tried for murder. And Mrs. Apthorpe went in, of course. They were both found guilty. Shield of murder. Cornelia Apthorpe has excess with the murder. Shield was hanged at Pentonville two and a half months after the crime. And Mrs. Apthorpe served 11 days of her sentence of penal servitude before she died. You've been listening to Whitehall 1212, which is based on true stories of Scotland Yard cases. Today's story of the Wimbledon Burglary murder is the last of the series. Thank you for listening to us. Heard today were Horace Brayham as Chief Inspector Hand and Lester Fletcher as Chief Inspector Campbell Bannerman. Others in the order of their appearance were Harvey Hayes, Morris Dolemore, Kathleen Cordell, Carl Harbour, and Florine Sears. Whitehall 1212 is written and directed by Willis Cooper. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.