 This is Orson Welles, speaking from London. A repository of death, a repertorium of violence. Here in the grim stone structure on the Thames, in Chousy's Scotland Yard is a warehouse of homicide. For everyday objects, a carpenter's saw, a manicurist's orange stick, a 10-penny nail, all are touched by a familiar object. Maybe your son, if he's an outdoor sort of kid, has one, you may have one. If you enjoy wood carving at art moments, it's a handy tool, a cheese knife. And if a sailor is a truckman, a killer is a nasty wound. May I, Doctor? Very nasty, Inspector. Six of them. Any one that have been fatal, all very deep through clothing and everything. Then we're looking for a man, Doctor. A man with a lot of strength and a knife. And like. Today, you can find that cheese knife among other honoured exhibits in the Black Museum. All investigation division of the London Police, we bring you the dramatic stories of the crimes recorded by the objects in Scotland Yards Gallery of Death Museum. In just a moment, you will hear the Black Museum starring Orson Welles. The whole thing of these weapons, still waiting to pick them up, just beyond the shack, collected over several generations. Would you call this a weapon? Yeah, it's a boot. A leather riding boot is obviously made for a gentleman who will go behind the hound, but another gentleman's pink hunting coat was stained with blood when this boot became a bloodshed. This seems obvious. It's a hypodermic needle that was once filled with poison. Here we are. Here's the sheath knife I was telling you about. Leather sheaths, Sheffield's steel bone handle. It's a pretty instrument in its way. But the story connected with it isn't quite so pretty. Begins one coldish night in November. As a suburban train drew into the dark station at Ilford a short distance from London, two men rose to shrug on overcoats in the same car, a man and woman rose to Evelyn and Fred Winter's shipping clerk and his wife returning to their little house in Ilford. You might go first, even if you are married to me. Oh, yes, of course. All right, you win. Come along now. The train will take you on with it. You'd like that, I expect. Now we had a nice evening. You're tired now. You wouldn't talk like that. Let's walk. I'm a trifle chili. There's a patient man, Miss Fred Winter. He always manages to find excuses for his wife's nagging, but then Evelyn is a bit younger than Fred and quite good-looking in a rather daring manner. You know, with a tall, vividly colored girl, excellent figure, which she displays to a bandit. Of course, all this was lost on the two men who left the train at the opposite end of the car for Mr. and Mrs. Winter's. They stood on the platform for a minute or two, stamping their feet. And the winters disappeared up the tree-lined street. For a moment or two, the two men followed. Apparently, they'd come to a decision. Whatever it was, it doesn't matter. It was never carried out. They heard Mrs. Winter in the dark pass a single streetlight to Evelyn Winter's steward and friend Winter's. The truck and yard placed in charge of the case. Nasty wounds. Hey, Doctor. Very nasty, Inspector. Sick of them. Anyone could have been fatal. All very deep through clothing and overcoat. Then we're looking for a man, Doctor. A man with a lot of strength and a knife. A long, slow, painstaking piece together in a puzzle. Someone with a good deal of strength wielded the six-inch knife. Step one, so far so good. Step two. Yes? I'm Inspector Bell, Mrs. Winter's. We met last night near the station. Yes, I remember. Come in, won't you? I expect you want to ask some questions. The questions. They all began as soon as the widow and the detective inspector seated in the tiny front room in a shabby little semi-detached house. The inspector glances around. Sees no wealth here. That's certain. Dismissed money is the motive. What did your husband do, Mrs. Winter's? Do? Oh, well, I see. It was a shipping clerk. How old was he? He said 48. I think he was closer to 52. Did he see service? Home guard. He was too old for the ground troops and he had no skills for any of the technical services. Did Mr. Winter's have any enemies that you know of? Freddie? Enemies? Oh, of course not. He never hurt a fly. An excellent quality, gentleness. Gentleness? Oh, no, Inspector. Fred was meek. Meek and mild as the old saying goes. He loved me in his way. There was more of the same, lots more, but nothing to indicate a reason for willful murder. Finally, the inspector decided to call it a day. Well, I won't bother you any longer today. Oh, yes. If you decide to go away or anything like that, let us know when and where, won't you, Mrs. Winter's? A considerate man, Inspector Bell, and wise and had long experience and never rushed a case or a situation. He knew well that there was any use in that. He returned to the local police station and there he found a woman and a man waiting for him. The murder took place right in front of my house, sir. Did you see anything, ma'am? No, no, it was too dark. Our street is very badly lighted, but I heard running in my driveway. Then it sounded like scuffling out front. I went to the window and heard a woman, well, half whispered, don't. Oh, don't. Then she was frightened? No, sir. How's that? It wasn't fright, sir. It was like she was begging someone she knew not to do something. Then I heard running away again, going away. But after that, the screaming. You're certain the woman was not frightened? I'm positive, sir. If I felt she was... A tiny bit of testimony, very tiny. Would it stand up in court? It was a good defense counsel to do with her on cross-examination. It was weak, but it was interesting. Quite interesting. And there was a man who went into the station house for Inspector Bell, with the woman. The man introduced himself. I'm Sandy Winters, Inspector. Fred was my brother. I don't want to get anybody into trouble, sir, but there are a few facts. My sister-in-law may forget to mention women are like that at times. Facts? Such as, Mr. Winters? There's a man who disliked my brother intensely, as ship steward James Davis. The cause of this dislike? My brother threw him out of the house. For what reason? Fred thought that this Davis was, well, making passes at Evelyn. Fred mentioned it to me once or twice. Your brother must have been fairly sure it would take that action. Incidentally, what was this Davis doing in the house in the first place? We knew Evelyn's family as a boy. He was quite friendly with Fred and Evelyn was quite enlightened. Between sailings it was. Then he moved in. Fred had a spare room and could use the money. After a while, Fred didn't like Davis's attitude towards Evelyn, so he threw him out. Is there anything else, Mr. Winters? Nothing I can think of, sir. This was just a point I thought you ought to know. Thank you, Mr. Winters. We'll probably be in touch with you. Good night. Well, good night. Sergeant? I've got all the lines carrying passengers or using stewards. And don't let Mrs. Winters learn that we know about this Davis. Not yet at any rate. Big pardon. New James Davis, steward aboard the Morania. I am? So what? I'm from Scotland Yard, my credentials. What do you want with me? You might have a talk with you before your ship sails. Sailing dates three days off, we understand. That's right. What do you want to talk with me for? Are you dead? Oh, where? The inspector will tell you all that. Shall we go now, Davis? I've seen your first officer already. He knows what's going on. Who's Davis, Inspector? How do you do, Mr. Davis? Oh, not so good. What for the news or no? Who killed Freddy, Inspector? We'd like to find out. Perhaps you can help us. Sit down, won't you? Thanks. It's very warm in here. And Sergeant, deliver this note to Dr. Arnold, will you? Yes, sir. Now then, Mr. Davis, perhaps you'll tell us... Yes, Mr. Davis, perhaps you will tell us where you were last night between 10 p.m. and 2 a.m. I was with Evelyn Winter's family. I've known them since I was a boy. Well, that fits with Stanley Winter's story, doesn't it? What about Evelyn Winter's and Fred, Mr. Davis? You knew them well, didn't you? Matter of fact, Inspector, I had a room with them. Until poor old Freddy got the idea that Evelyn and I were a bit too friendly. It wasn't true, naturally, sir. But I figured it'd be better all round if I cleared up. So I did. Perfectly natural. Don't cause your childhood friend any trouble. If a husband is jealous, live somewhere else. So simple, so proper. Just about then that the telephone on the inspector's desk added its voice to the situation. Inspector Bell here? Arnold speaking. Bell, you've got good eyes. The Sergeant Holloway is here with the fellow's overcoat. He gave me your note. I made only the first test, but there's no doubt in my mind. That stain you spotted on the sleeve, it's blood all right. No question about it. Well, today you can find that sheath knife, among other honored exhibits, in the Black Museum. In just a moment, we will continue with the Black Museum starring Orson Welle. Orson Welle's portray is the roguish crook Harry Lyme, a clever thief, continually in the middle of an international hijinks. Be with him each week as he darts back and forth across the line of the law. Be in on his sophisticated plans, which always end with someone getting conned. Join KUOW Thursday evenings at 9.30, as we present the lives of Harry Lyme. But hang on to your radio, he may have that by Friday morning. I kept what they knew from Jimmy Davis and from Evelyn Winters. Scott and I has a habit of not breaking news until there are certain effects. And blood on the cuff of an overcoat is only one fact. The rest was a joy to write out from Jimmy Davis that day before they finished with his overcoat and with him. As I said, Inspector, I spent the evening with Evelyn's family. I've been doing that during my time ashore for years. I left my family in the middle of the night. I've been doing that during my time ashore for years. I left them about 11 o'clock. It was something of a problem getting back to London. The trains outman a parkway aren't very frequent after 11. When I finally made it back to Victoria Station, the last train out my way was gone. I didn't have the cab fare, so I walked all the way home. Didn't get in until after two in the morning. Quite straightforward, very logical, honestly told. To Inspector Bell, it seemed, well, just a little too honest. He asked Jimmy Davis to wait around a bit. Then he consulted with Sergeant Holloway. A railway map, Sergeant. Here's the line that runs out to Manor Park. He was there, sir. And Mrs. Winter's family confirmed that. And the time Davis said he left with me. If there were anything to our idea, he'd never tell us about it if he couldn't confirm it. But he must have known it was a problem, as he said, to get back to London. Well, how does that fit, sir? He could have left it a little earlier, but he didn't. Now look here, on the map. Yes, look closely, Sergeant. What do you see? An inspector's pointing. Ilford, the next stop after Manor Park, going toward London. I see what you mean, Inspector. It might be quite simple, boy, to train at Manor Park, with a ticket for London up off the next stop, Ilford. Knowing that Fred and Evelyn Wenders would be on the midnight train down from London, waiting a dark driveway, yes, it might be quite simple. The inspector thinks so, too. I think we'll ask Davis to stay here a day or two. His ship doesn't sail until that day after tomorrow. Meanwhile, Sergeant, we'll get ourselves a warrant, and you can give his lodgings a thorough going over. Sergeant Holloway took three men with him and gave Jimmy Davis his furnished room of an ethereal going over. Take everything apart, men. Put it all back together again so the fellow won't know we've been here. We're looking for any article of clothing with a trace of blood on it, and for a knife, about six inches long. Also, what's the evidence of Davis's associations with women? Three points. Blood, a knife, and women. On point one. Everything's clean. He must have missed a staining inspector spotted on his overcoat. On point two. Nothing. Absolutely nothing to indicate the man ever touched a knife. And as for point three. It's a gold mine, Inspector. Davis had a special box full of letters. I didn't take the time to read them. One look at the signature on all of them was enough. Ever yours. But interesting. Darlingest, I can't explain it. I looked up Digitalus in a medical dictionary at the library. It's a cumulative poison. Put it in Freddy's tea, but it had no effect. He just complained. I've given it to him for a week now. I'm afraid to make the doses any larger. But I'll think of something else because I cannot believe what I've seen. I took an electric bulb and broke it and powdered the glass. Freddy likes lots of sugar and I never use sugar. Maybe this will work. I think he suspects I'm up to something. The glass didn't work either. Be patient, darling. You'll never give me a divorce. But I'll find a way. No one will ever suspect there must be a way. We've got to be together and we shall be as we were once. Only without fear. Ever yours, Evelyn. Nice girl, wasn't she? Poison, powdered glass. Ever yours, Evelyn. Inspector Bell called in, Sergeant Holloway. Yes, sir? The letters. They'll go fine in court after we put the two of them together someplace and after we found the weapon. David says he hasn't seen her in months and she insists on the same thing. In one of the letters, she mentions meeting him at a tea room in the city. I'll cover that. You get down to Southampton to the Morania. Talk to the crew. Get everything you care on Davis. Check? Yes, sir. Check. In the tea room, Inspector Bell found an obliging waitress with an excellent memory. Told you so, sir. Orban hair, greenish eyes. Well, now let me think a minute, sir. Yes, there was a woman comes in here. Very good-looking. Well, if you like that kind of coloring. Many men do? Well, one man does. The one that comes in here with this woman. Afternoons mostly from the early teen. He's young. Younger than she is, that's my guess. Very nice looking. Have you heard any names? Once. It was... It's once. I heard her calling Jimmy, darling. I see. Tell me, have they been in here recently? Say, in the last day or so? Oh, I think so. I've seen too many men. Yes, the day before yesterday it was. Do you think you'd know them again? In a crumble? Yes, sir. I'm sure now. Why, sir? Are they in trouble with the police? I wouldn't want to put nobody in trouble. In trouble with the police? Well, a little. Just a little. If you call a growing sum of evidence and a murder case trouble. And it was growing. Sergeant Holloway went to Southampton. I gather from some of the other men that Davis was never too sociable, right? Ever show you any of his hobbies? Well, he didn't have any that I know of. Not, say, wood carving or anything like that? Well, I never saw him use a knife on wood. Oh, he owned a knife. Oh, yes, sir. Slick-looking blade it was. Carried it in a sheath on his belt. He liked to keep it pretty sharp, too. I see. Well, thank you, Carter. Thank you very much. There are two themes here. They must be resolved together. A woman who followed the pattern of a sly, careful poisoner. A man who once owned a sheath knife. The planning of a careful crime. The execution of a crime of violence. Did the two themes come together on that midnight street in Elford? Was Jimmy Davis waiting behind the hedges? Did Evelyn Winters know he was there? No. That she was leading her husband to his death. There were answers to these questions somewhere. Inspector Bell went quietly and methodically about the business of getting those answers. I'm glad you will come in to see us, Mrs. Winters. I've been hoping you'll be able to help us. Oh, is that so, Inspector? I wish I could help you. My office is just along this hall. Yes, we're rather up a tree in a difficult kind of case. Unless we can find someone with a motive somewhere, it may go unsolved. Oh, there's Sergeant Holloway. Sergeant Holloway? Yes, you remember him. He's working with me. He may have a question or two. There he is in this office with the glass panel door. Talking to someone. Come in a minute, Mrs. Winters. No. No, I won't. I know the man Sergeant Holloway is talking to. He knows me. Yes, Mrs. Winters. We know he knows you. Jimmy told you. Do you have a question, Mrs. Winters? Are you in love with Jimmy Davis? Did you plan to kill your husband that night in Ilford? We know a lot, Mrs. Winters. We want to know. If you held your husband while Davis stabbed him, did you decoy your husband? Did you tell Davis to be there? How long have you been in love with him? Questions, questions. They came second fast. Now the Inspector took her into his office. The stenographer waited. She was warned and the questions poured out around her. She sat there, opinioned by the Inspector's quiet voice. Until... All right. I'll tell you. I was in love with Jimmy, but I didn't plan the murder. Jimmy did that. He did it on his own. He jumped out of the driveway and struggled with poor Freddy. Fred fell down. Jimmy ran away. He showed her the letters in her own handwriting, but she stuck to a story. I had nothing to do with it. Nothing. And Jimmy Davis still in love with this woman. Jimmy denied the letters to him. Evelyn didn't know a thing. I waited for them. I wanted to make Fred give her a divorce. He tried to hit me and we fought. I used the knife. It was self-defense, but I got scared. I threw the knife into the sewer grate and even ran away. Evelyn didn't know a thing. We didn't see each other for months. So we'll identify you, Jim Davis. What about your body and the story of the sharpening of a knife? What about the letters? What about the woman? Is she worth it? Evelyn didn't know a thing. She had nothing to do with it. Sorry, Davis. It's no use. You'll be tried together, and the chances are you'll hang together. That's the story. That's how they wound up the case. And today, in case you're interested, you'll find that sheath knife in the black museum. Orson Wells will be back with you in just a moment. Heedless, reckless passion. And the ugliness was amplified by the long planning, the cruelty, and finally, by the end of the story, Evelyn went and died badly. Unable even to manage the numbness of fatality which comes to so many murderers on the scaffold, she collapsed. Had to be carried to the gallows, supported there by two jailers. The hangman, by the way, resigned his job shortly afterwards. And to the end, despite the letters, despite the evidence, Jim Davis tried to take all the blame on himself. But justice and death both were equal in this case. And the sheath knife remains in its customary place. In Scotland Yard, in the black museum. Now, until next time, until another story about the black museum, her remain is always obediently yours. Orson Wells is presented by arrangement with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer radio attraction. The program is written by Aura Marion with music composed and conducted by Sidney Torch. Produced by