Murder: True Crime Stories - Atomic Secrets: The Rosenberg Case 1

Episode Date: March 31, 2026

At the height of Cold War paranoia, one American couple stood accused of betraying their country in a case that would divide a nation. In Part 1 of this two-part special, Murder: True Crime Stories examines the explosive investigation that placed Julius and Ethel Rosenberg at the center of an alleged atomic spy ring. Carter Roy is joined by Vanessa Richardson, host of Conspiracy Theories, Cults, and Crimes, to unravel the earliest cracks in a story shaped by fear, ideology, and the race for nuclear dominance. As the United States grappled with the threat of Soviet expansion, whispers of stolen secrets and hidden allegiances began to fuel a rapidly intensifying manhunt. What began as quiet suspicion soon escalated into sweeping accusations, mounting pressure, and a tightening circle of scrutiny around family and friends. The tension reaches a breaking point with a pivotal arrest, a moment that reshapes the investigation and sets the stage for one of the most controversial espionage trials in American history. If you’re new here, don’t forget to follow Murder True Crime Stories to never miss a case! For Ad-free listening and early access to episodes, subscribe to Crime House+ on Apple Podcasts. Murder True Crime Stories is a Crime House Original Podcast, powered by PAVE Studios 🎧 Need More to Binge?  Listen to other Crime House Originals Clues, Crimes Of…, Serial Killers & Murderous Minds, Crime House 24/7, and more wherever you get your podcasts! Follow me on Social Instagram: @Crimehouse TikTok: @Crimehouse Facebook: @crimehousestudios YouTube: @murdertruecrimestories To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hi everyone, it's Carter. Exciting news. Video episodes of murder true crime stories are now on YouTube. Every Friday, I'll be dropping a full video episode going deeper into the cases that still haunt us, the mysteries that haven't been solved, and the stories that deserve more than just a headline. Same depth, same commitment to telling the real story. Now you can watch it. Subscribe at Murder True Crime Stories on YouTube.

to catch a new video episode every Friday. This is Crime House. Today, we're diving into a conspiracy theory that's turning 75 years old this year, the trial of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. It's a case that has everything from espionage to family drama to unanswered questions. And I can't think of a better person to help me tell this story than my friend and fellow Crime House host, Vanessa Richardson. Thanks, Carter. I can't wait to get started. This is a big one, so let's dig in. In the fall of

1944, World War II was in full swing. At that point, the United States and the USSR were allies working to take down their common enemy Nazi Germany. But that didn't mean the two countries were friends. In fact, they were both actively spying on one another. And on September 21st of that year, a KGB officer stationed in the U.S. sent a secret telegram to his bosses in the Soviet Union. It read, quote, lately the development of new people has been in progress. Liberal recommended the wife of his wife's brother, Ruth Greenglass. Liberal and his wife recommended her as an intelligent and clever girl. Ruth's husband is a mechanical engineer and is working at the enormous plant. Enormous was the Soviet code name for the Los Alamos National Laboratory in New Mexico,

where the atomic bomb was being built, and liberal was the code name for Julius Rosenberg, an American engineer who was about to pass along nuclear secrets to the Soviets. The KGB officer who sent that telegram had no idea his boss wasn't the only one reading his message. American officials were too, and a few years later, the U.S. would have the technology to know exactly what those secret phrases meant. Just like that, Julius Rosenberg would go from top secret spy to one of the most infamous men in America. People's lives are like a story. There's a beginning, a middle, and an end, but you don't always know which part you're on. Sometimes the final chapter arrives far too soon and we don't always get to know the real ending. I'm Carter Roy and this is murder, true crime stories, a crime house original powered by Pave Studios.

New episodes come out every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday with Friday's episodes covering the cases that deserve a deeper look. And remember, those Friday episodes are also on YouTube with full video. Just search for murder, true crime stories, and be sure to like and subscribe. And I'm Vanessa Richardson, host of conspiracy theories, cults, and crimes. Crime House is made possible by you. Follow conspiracy theories, cults, and crimes, and murder true crime stories wherever you listen. And subscribe to Crimehouse Plus on Apple Podcasts for ad-free access to each two-part series. Today, we'll meet the Rosenbergs, a young couple from New York who found themselves,

at the center of a geopolitical storm. During World War II, Julius's work as an engineer gave him access to highly classified information. Eventually, he decided to risk his life by passing those state secrets along to the Soviet Union. We'll learn what happened when the U.S. government found out about Julius's deception and how his wife Ethel was dragged into the mix. Then next time, we'll cover the controversial trial, and the questions that still remain. All that and more coming up.

Russia in the 1800s was a hard place to live for anyone. The weather was harsh, food was scarce, and money was tight. But no one had it tougher than Russian Jews. Over 5 million of them were forced to live in the pale of settlement, a region in Western Russia defined by its restrictive policies and poor conditions. Jewish people were almost entirely prohibited from living outside the pale and were barred from owning land and working certain jobs. Then in 1881, Emperor Alexander II, known as the Tsar Liberator, was assassinated by a group of Russian nihilists. When people learned that one of his assassins was

Jewish, the country's anti-Semitism escalated to a fervor. Jews were routinely rounded up and attacked in riots known as pogroms. It seemed like there was a glimmer of hope by the turn of the 20th century. A group called the Bolsheviks, led by Vladimir Lenin, promised an end to the violence and equal rights for all. And in 1917, they made their move. That march, Tsar Nicholas II was forced to abdicate his throne, ending centuries of Romanov rule.

By November, deep-seated discontent had set the stage for Vladimir Lenin, and the Bolsheviks to take over the provisional government. Instead of bringing an end to the violence, the country exploded into civil war. Many of those who were loyal to the Tsar blamed the Jewish people for this latest crisis. As a result, the pogroms intensified. By some estimates, up to 250,000 Jews were slaughtered during this period. Those who weren't tried to flee the country, and many made their way to America. Two of those immigrants were Sophie and Harry Rosenberg. They settled down in New York City and gave birth to a son named Julius on May 12, 1918, just six months after the Russian Revolution. Julius was one of five children, and his parents struggled to make ends meet. They slaved away in garment shops, trying to make enough money to give their kids the sort of opportunities they never had.

Unfortunately, that only got more difficult as time went on. In 1929, the Great Depression hit. Julius was just 11 years old, and his family had recently moved to the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Even though it was closer to the factories where his parents were employed, things didn't improve much financially. With the economy in shambles, Julius's parents were working even harder to stay afloat. Their pay was determined by the number of buttons or seams they sowed, but the amount of work they got done didn't seem to matter when their wages were falling lower and lower.

While they toiled away in crowded buildings with poor ventilation and dim lighting, Julius tried to make them proud at school. He excelled at science and math and planned to become an engineer. But while he was in high school, Julius found another passion that, would come to define his life. In the time since his parents had left Russia, the country had become the Soviet Union. Although the communist government headed by Vladimir Lenin was less than perfect, Julius was inspired by some of their policies. From the outside looking in, the USSR seemed like a classless

society with equal pay, social services, and workers' rights. The reality was very different. But after seeing how his parents struggled, Julius started to wonder if maybe the Soviet Union wasn't all that bad. He began organizing for left-wing causes when he was only 14. In 1932, he campaigned for justice for the Scottsboro boys, nine black teenagers who were falsely convicted of rape in Alabama. Before long, Julius met a young woman who shared his passion for social justice, and he fell head-over heels in love with her. Ethel Greenglass was born in Manhattan three years before Julius on September 25, 1915. Her parents were also Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe. Ethel had two younger brothers, Bernard and David.

Since their parents were always working, Ethel was like a second mother to the boys. But she and David were especially close. By 1931, when Ethel was 16, the Depression was in full swing. Once upon a time she dreamed of becoming a Broadway actress and singer. Now, those dreams had to wait. Her family needed her. So Ethel dropped out of school, learned how to type, and became a secretary at a shipping logistics company. Like so many other people at the time, Ethel was taken advantage of in her new role.

Poor wages, long hours, and few protections. That's how she became interested. interested in labor rights. It's also how she met, 14-year-old Julius Rosenberg at a young Communist League meeting in 1932. Over the next few years, Ethel and Julius got incredibly close. It seemed like they were a great fit, but there was one problem. Ethel's parents couldn't stand him. They thought Julius was full of himself, but Ethel lived in a unit upstairs with her younger brothers, so her parents couldn't exactly stop him from coming over. Eventually, she and Julius were officially dating.

They had big plans for the future, but first, Julius needed to go to college. In 1936, he started at the City College of New York. Admission was free for city residents, which meant most students were either black or Jewish, people who might not have been able to afford tuition or be accepted elsewhere. Julius was studying to become an engineer.

At the same time, he became. became even more active in the Young Communist League, the youth branch of the American Communist Party. He participated in marches, political education, and political lobbying. He often worked with Bernard Schuster, a high-ranking Communist Party official, and the two became close France. In February 1939, after three years at City College, Julius graduated with a degree in electrical engineering. That June, he and Ethel got married. They moved into their own three-bedroom apartment in Knickerbocker village, a housing complex on the lower east side. But this exciting new chapter was soon overshadowed by something much worse, another world war.

Like a lot of American Jews, the Rosenbergs were horrified by the rise of Adolf Hitler. Their fears were realized after the Crystal Noct or Night of Broken Glass. This was a November 1938, program against Jewish-owned businesses that laid the foundation for the Holocaust. Things got even worse on September 1st, 1939, when the Nazis invaded Poland. World War II had officially begun. The United States remained neutral during the early years of the war, but the military expanded its operations in preparation for a potential attack. The army needed to develop new technologies, which meant hiring thousands of civilian engineers. Julius Rosenberg was one of them. He lied about being a member of the Communist Party. Even then, they were banned from government service.

So as far as the U.S. government was concerned, he was just a promising young engineer. In the fall of 1940, Julius was assigned to the Army Signal Corps Engineering Laboratories at Fort Monmouth in New Jersey. There, he worked on various new weapons, guided missile controls, radar, and communications technologies. For the first time in his life, Julius had a decent paycheck and a comfortable life. He didn't want to squander the opportunity, so he put his political convictions to the side and focused on providing for Ethel, who was dealing with scoliosis in several other health issues. But as the war dragged on, Julius took another look at his priorities. By 1941, Nazi Germany had conquered most of Europe

and was looking for more places to expand their reach. On June 2nd of that year, they decided to try their luck and invade the Soviet Union. Communist Russia was now locked in a war against the Nazis. No one was more motivated by this development than Julius Rosenberg, a communist with a Russian background who hated the Nazis. Julius wanted to turn the tide against the Germans, and he thought the only way to do it was for the U.S. to finally get involved. He got his wish that December when President Roosevelt declared war on the Axis Powers after the attack on Pearl Harbor. America and the Soviet Union were now officially allies. By early 1942, the U.S. military was fighting to catch up to the Nazis who had incredibly high-tech weapons.

That meant Julius had more work than ever. He played a major role in several classified projects and became close with his engineering colleagues. The whole time, it seemed like he was in the clear. But even though the U.S. Army may have overlooked his political leanings, someone else noticed. and they wanted to take advantage of it. In 1942, 24-year-old Julius Rosenberg was working as an engineer at the Army Signal Corps Engineering Laboratories at Fort Monmouth in New Jersey.

Although Julius wasn't as active in the Communist Party anymore, he was still friends with many people who were, including the high-ranking official Bernard Schuster. And unbeknownst to him, Bernard had connections within the Soviet intelligence, community. On September 8th, Bernard and Julius attended a workers' rally in Central Park. There were over 50,000 people there, so Julius wasn't worried about someone from work catching him. While they were there, Bernard introduced Julius to a friend of his, a Soviet man he called

Henry. Julius was delighted. He'd never met an actual Soviet national in his life. He and Henry bonded over their desire to see the Nazis defeated and for the United States to adopt better protections for its workers. After a while, Bernard walked away, leaving Julius and Henry alone. The two went out to lunch at a nearby restaurant and really hit it off. They got together several more times and during their third meeting, Henry brought up Julius's work with the U.S. Army. He told Julius that while the United States was being helpful in the war effort, they could do better. Specifically, they were keeping many of their new technological developments from their allies. Julius immediately understood what Henry was saying.

He told Henry, quote, I find it unfair that you should be fighting the common enemy alone. If I can do anything to help, you can count on me. In reality, Henry was named Simeon Simeonov, one of the USSR's most important spy masters. And without even trying, he'd just gotten Julius to become a spy for the Soviet Union. If Julius had any second thoughts about working for the Soviets, he didn't show it. Just a few weeks after that meeting with Simeon, the two met again. This time, Julius brought a dossier of highly classified documents from his work at Fort Monmouth, over 600 pages of them.

And that was just the beginning. Over the next two years, Julius met Simeon at a local restaurant called Childs on a regular basis. Each time, he'd bring hundreds, even thousands of documents. He'd hand them over to Simeon, who would pass them on to another agent to be photographed onto microfilm. Then Julius would return the documents to Fort Monmouth before anyone noticed. Eventually, Julius was codenamed Antennaut. Through him, the Soviets gained access to details about all kinds of developing technologies, radar, communications, weapons, you name it.

In the eyes of the Soviets, Julius was a perfect spy. He operated purely for ideological reasons, without any need for additional compensation. When Simeon tried to take him out to a fancy dinner, Julius rejected his offer. He thought it wasn't fair to celebrate while a war was raging. But what really set Julius apart from most other spies was his willingness to grow his network. Julius knew that if he recruited other Americans, it would take the heat off him, and he had plenty of options to choose from. As the war continued, the Army Signal Corps engineering labs needed more civil engineers. Many of these new employees were also City College alumni from poor Jewish backgrounds, and most of them were also incredibly left-leaning.

In them, Julius found both friends and potential conspirators. Not long after being recruited by Simeon, Julius brought in one of his closest friends and co-workers, Joel Barr, as a fellow spy. Joel had grown up in even more severe poverty than Julius had. At one point during his childhood, New York policemen threw his family out on the street when they were late on rent. Joel received the Soviet code name, Meador, and together, he and Julius identified several other recruits, but none were more impactful than Alfred Sourant.

Alfred was the only member of Julius' spying who wasn't Jewish or a graduate of City College. But as the child of Greek immigrants, he saw his parents go through similarly tough circumstances that drove him to become a communist too. Alfred was initially reluctant to start spying, but he was really close with Joel. They were even roommates. And eventually, Joel convinced him that he could help bring the Nazis down. Not long after he became a spy, Alfred started working on radio communications for Bell Research Labs. He became a crucial part of the team on the Lockheed P-80 shooting star, the very first fighter jet designed in the United States.

Codenamed Hughes, he eventually passed on more than 20,000 documents. about the plane to the Soviets. Within two years of working for the Soviets, Julius had built up his spying to at least six people, but everything changed in 1944 when Simeon Simeonov dropped off the map. In early 1944, the NKVD, the Soviet Ministry of the Interior, which handled all espionage within the United States, discovered that Simeon Simeonov was under FBI surveillance. Suddenly, it wasn't safe for him to communicate with any of his spies. Julius, Joel, Alfred, and the rest of the network were left in the dark. For a few months, Julius did his best to return to a normal life.

Pianethel had had their first son, Michael, the year before, and he still had to keep up his best work at the Signal Corps labs. But all the while, he was wracked with anxiety. Did the Soviets abandon him? Would he be found out? out? He got his answer one random Sunday later that year. The Rosenberg's had some friends over for dinner when a man knocked on the door and introduced himself as a friend of Henry's. A few days later, Julius met his new handler, who was basically his spy manager at Child's Restaurant. Unlike Simeon, this man got straight to the point. He introduced himself as Alexander Feklasov and told Julius about how his family back in Russia was struggling because of the Germans. In return, Julius talked about his own childhood and the family he was building with Ethel.

They became fast friends, and over the next few months, their spy network grew. To protect his identity, the Soviets gave Julius a new code name, liberal, and they needed him to get information about the secret American project they'd heard rumblings about. The rush to make an atomic bomb. A few months later, Julius gave them exactly what they were hoping for. His brother-in-law, David Greenglass, was also a communist sympathizer. He had a job as a machinist in the U.S. Army, and he had just gotten an important assignment in New Mexico. David Greenglass had always grown up following his sister Ethel's example.

She practically raised him in their own apartment, which was littered with communist literature and copies of the left-wing newspaper The Daily Worker. He'd also known Julius Rosenberg since he was a kid. He admired his sister and brother-in-law and grew up with the same ideals. David excelled as a machinist, somebody who makes parts out of metal, while attending high school. By the time he graduated in 1940, he was able to go right into a successful career. In 1942, when he was just 20 years old, he married Ruth Prince, and the following year, he enlisted in the U.S. Army. Like Julius, he had to hide his affiliation with a Communist Party.

David's machining skills kept him from overseas deployment, and within a year, he was promoted to Sargent and assigned to the Los Alamos Laboratory in New Mexico. There, the Manhattan Project was well underway. For the most part, scientists would describe the metal parts they needed and David would create them. He might not have known exactly what they were building, but over time, he got a sense of how important the project was. That all came to a head in September 1944 when Julius came to visit David in New Mexico. While he was there, he told him about one of his close friends, a Russian man named Alexander. On September 21st, 1944, Alexander Fekthasov sent a cable to his superiors telling them the good news.

He said, quote, David and Ruth are young, intelligent, capable, and politically developed people, strongly believing in the cause of communism and wishing to do their best to help our country as much as possible. They are undoubtedly devoted to the Soviet Union. David soon confirmed his commitment in a letter he sent to his wife, who was back in New York, quote, my darling, I most certainly will be glad to be a part of the community project that Julius and his friends have in mind. After that, David began collecting information about the atomic bomb to pass along to the Soviet Union. His understanding of the nuclear physics involved was limited, but he understood machines.

Whenever he could, he'd take notes about how the bomb worked. Late in 1944, David returned to New York for a brief visit. While he was there, he and Ruth went over to see Julius and Ethel and pass along information about the bomb. What happened in the Rosenberg's apartment that night is still up for debate, but we know that David handed off his notes to Julius. Julius then allegedly went into the bathroom and poured over the handwritten documents. As difficult as they were to read, he could immediately tell the Soviets would want to see them.

David had even included a hand-drawn diagram of an implosion-type nuclear bomb. Julius emerged from the bathroom and said that they needed to type up the information so he could pass it along to Alexander Fecklesov. Allegedly, Ruth sat down at the portable typewriter and turned out, an organized report. A few days later, David's notes were delivered to Julius's handler. It was the beginning of the end for the Rosenbergs. A few months after David passed along his report, it became clear that the Allied powers were close to defeating the Nazis. But it wasn't all good news, because while one war was ending, another was just beginning. It was obvious that the Soviet Union and the United States would emerge as the two global superpowers once the Nazis were defeated.

But even though they'd worked together against a common enemy, their systems of governments were completely incompatible, and neither country was willing to step down. That made Julius's work as a spy even more dangerous. But he and his comrades remained committed to the mission. After returning to Los Alamos, David continued passing along nuclear secrets, this time through a Swiss-born courier named Harry Gold. At one point, David gave Gold a diagram of a mold for a high-explosive lens, and gold paid him $500 for it, or about $9,000 in today's money. David had no idea. He wasn't the only Soviet spy at Los Alamos. Klaus Fuchs, a German-born physicist, also passed along atomic information through Harry Gold.

And Theodore Hall, the youngest nuclear physicist on the Manhattan Project, was just recently identified as a Soviet informant. By then, the U.S. government was well aware that there were rats in their midst. That's when they started intercepting Soviet communications in an effort known as the Venona Project. The messages were encrypted so it would take some time to figure out what they actually meant. But once they did, they would follow the clues all the way back to Julius Rosenberg. Hi, I'm Karina B.mesterfer, host of Morning Cup of Murder, your daily true crime podcast. Yes, you heard me right, daily true crime.

Every day, Morning Cup of Murder tells you a straightforward, short-form story about murder, true crime, cold cases, disappearances, serial killers, cults, and more. And I do that all in under 15 minutes. With over three years of stories and over 20 million downloads, the Morning Cup of Murder podcast has become a staple of so many people's daily routines. So, why not add it to yours? Stream Morning Cup of Murder everywhere you listen to podcasts, and remember, stay safe. On August 6th, 1945, the United States dropped an atomic bomb, codenamed Little Boy, on Hiroshima, Japan. Three days later, a larger bomb, codenamed Fat Man, was dropped on Nagasaki. The next month, World War II was finally over, and the nuclear age had officially begun.

The United States and the Soviet Union quickly began reorganizing the world, preparing for a global conflict of capitalism versus communism. As the only country with access to nuclear bombs, the Americans believed they had the advantage over their opponents. But across the world, the Soviets were secretly keeping up. Much of their work was coming along organically, but when they faced roadblocks, they had help from inside the Manhattan Project. Fat Man was an implosion-type atomic weapon,

the same kind described in David Greenglasses notes, and Klaus Fuchs and Theodore Hall's nuclear expertise gave the Soviets crucial information about plutonium enrichment. Still, none of those spies were as important as Julius Rosenberg, but his role was about to become much more complicated. Back in spring of 1944, the Security and Intelligence Division of the War Department had received information that Julius Rosenberg had been a member of the Communist Party.

An investigation followed, but no action was taken until December 1945. That's when Julius was fired from his position at the Army Signal Corps Engineering Laboratories. This was a huge concern for Julius's handlers in Soviet intelligence. They weren't sure why he'd been fired. Was it because of his performance or because he'd been identified as a spy? They weren't even sure if they could safely use him moving forward. The Soviet's fears were justified. A month earlier, Elizabeth Bentley, an American woman who managed another massive spy ring,

confessed to the FBI and outed all of her agents. At that point, Project Venona, the U.S. effort to intercept Soviet communication, ramped up. President Truman knew Soviet agents had infiltrated the U.S. and he wanted the FBI to sniff them all out. Out of an abundance of caution, Alexander Feklosov, Julius's handler, cut off contact with him as much as possible. But after a few months, the Soviets thought the coast was clear. They gave the okay for Julius to take a job at Western Electric, working on radar systems for the B-29 bomber. Julius stayed at Western Electric for a year until the project he was working on was complete.

After that, he worked for Emerson Radio, which had several military contracts. Julius passed along thousands of documents from his time there, including the complete design for a proximity fuse, a bomb that detonates when someone gets close to it. The whole time Julius tried to keep his work life and home life as separate as possible. In 1946, when Julius was working at Western Electric, his old friend, Joel Barr, who Julius had recruited into the spy ring, landed in hot water. Joel was fired from his military contract job after his employers found out he was a communist. They reported Joel to the FBI, who began assembling a file on him and his connections.

Julius's handlers warned him to be careful. They knew the FBI had bugged several agents' apartments, and encouraged him not to talk about his espionage at home. Julius was happy to keep the focus elsewhere, especially because Ethel had given birth to their second son, Robert, in 1947. Their family was growing, and he and Ethel were thrilled. But soon, life got more difficult. By some point after Robert was born, Julius was laid off from his job at Emerson.

By then, his brother-in-law, David, had been honorably discharged from Los Alamo. so he and Julius decided to open their own machine shop called G&R Engineering Company. It didn't go well. As the business struggled to stay afloat, their relationship became strained. At one point, David even punched Julius over the investment he'd lost. But soon, they had bigger problems to worry about. On August 29, 1949, the Soviet Union detonated its first. first atomic bomb, nicknamed First Lightning by the Russians and Joe won by the United States.

The Americans anticipated that it would take the Soviets at least a decade to develop nuclear technology. Now, their edge in the Cold War was wiped out in an instant. In the aftermath of the test, the U.S. government scrambled to figure out how the Soviets caught up to them so fast. The Venona Project became priority number one. Within a month, they'd cracked enough messages to catch their first spy. Klaus Fuchs. He'd worked alongside David at Los Alamos, and they shared a courier. After the Manhattan Project ended,

Fuchs moved to the UK to become the head of theoretical physics at Harwell University's British Nuclear Research Center. All the while, he continued, passing long secrets to his Soviet handlers. He continued to do so without knowing that he was under surveillance by MI5, the British Domestic Intelligence Agency. In January 1950, they brought him in for questioning. Fuchs immediately confessed and started naming names. In early February 1950, J. Edgar Hoover, the head of the FBI, wrote a letter to President Truman laying out the situation with Klaus Fuchs. It said, quote,

We have just gotten word from England that we have gotten a full confession from one of the top scientists who worked over here that he gave the complete know-how of the atom bomb to the Russians, end quote. Klaus Fuchs had no idea that MI5 didn't actually have any evidence against him, but after his confession, they certainly did. And once he named Harry Gold as his courier, he laid the trail right back to Julius Rosenberg. The Soviets knew what was happening. They warned Julius that Klaus had ratted him out and promised to get him and Ethel out of the country.

When Julius heard that, he immediately went to David. Even though they weren't speaking, he told him the same thing. He needed to get out. David said he couldn't just up and leave. He had debts he needed to pay, things to take care of. Julius promised the Soviets would help him financially. But before that could happen, the Americans caught up with Harry Gold. In late May

1950, they arrested him for conspiracy to commit espionage. Despite his loyalty to the Soviets, Gold hadn't followed their instructions exactly. He saved dozens of documents he passed along to the Soviets. And once he was arrested, he gave them to the FBI in the hopes of striking a deal. One of those documents was a diagram of an explosive lens mold drawn by David Greenglass. While Harry Gold was confessing everything, Julius was still trying to help David with his money troubles. And by the end of May 1950, Julius managed to get $5,000, the equivalent of almost $70,000 today, to help his brother-in-law flee the country. Meanwhile, he and Ethel was waited for the Soviets to give them a plan for their own departure.

That plan never materialized. On June 15, 1950, 28-year-old David Greenglass was arrested by the FBI in New York. Unlike the other spies they'd caught, the Bureau had hard evidence that David was working for the Soviets. They told him the situation was dire, especially because they knew his wife had also been an active participant in the espionion. They told David she'd be arrested soon enough and tried for treason, maybe even put up for the death penalty. David couldn't let that happen. He told them he was willing to tell them everything, including the fact that he'd been

recruited by his sister and brother-in-law. Thanks so much for listening. I'm Carter Roy, and this is Murder, True Crime Stories. Come back next time for part two on the Rosenberg's with our guest host Vanessa Richardson. Murder True Crime Stories is a crime house, original powered by Pave Studios. Here at Crime House, we want to thank each and every one of you for your support. If you like what you heard today, reach out on social media at Crime House on TikTok and

Instagram. Don't forget to rate, review, and follow Murder True Crime Stories wherever you get your podcasts. Your feedback truly makes a difference. and to enhance your Murder True Crime Stories listening experience, subscribe to Crime House Plus on Apple Podcasts. You'll get every episode ad-free. We'll be back on Thursday. Murder True Crime Stories is hosted by me, Carter Roy,

and is a Crime House original powered by Pave Studios. This episode was brought to life by the Murder True Crime Stories team, Max Cutler, Ron Shapiro, Alex Benadon, Natalie Pertsovsky, Lori Marinelli, Sarah Camp, Jake Naterman, Leah Roche, and Michael Langsner. Thank you for listening. Thanks for listening to today's episode of Murder, True Crime Stories. Not sure what to listen to next, check out America's Most Infamous Crimes, hosted by Katie Ring. From serial killers to unsolved mysteries and game-changing investigations, each week,

Katie takes on a notorious criminal case. in American history. Listen to and follow America's most infamous crimes now wherever you listen to podcasts.