Jack Webb

First on the interview list was the sister of the missing woman, Bernice Marin.

She was employed as a saleswoman for a grocery supply firm.

We called it the home where Miss Marin lived with her four nieces and nephews, but there was no answer.

The next door neighbor told us that Miss Marin was working, that she usually didn't get home until 4.15 or 4.30 in the afternoon.

In the meantime, we figured we might as well check the next name on the list, Mrs. Baker's boyfriend, Carl Shelton.

We'd already checked him through R&I and he had no record.

We drove out to his address, a three-story apartment house on 64th Street.

Shelton's apartment was on the main floor rear.

He answered the door in his bathrobe and slippers.

He told us that he was employed at one of the local oil refineries and that this particular week he was working the graveyard shift, 11 at night until 7 in the morning.

He showed us back to a small kitchen at the rear of the apartment.

While we questioned him, he fixed a percolator of coffee and put it on the stove.

You sure about Ms.

Baker's plans, are you?

She never mentioned anything to you about moving out of the apartment house here?

No, never.

Somebody's handing you a line there.

If Rosie was going to move, she'd tell me about it.

Just a minute.

I've got to get that coffee.