Speaking from London, the Black Museum, a repository tep Yes. Here in the grim Stone structure on the Thames which houses Scotland Yard, is a warehouse, a farmer side where everyday objects, a dictionaries, stenographer's notebook, a clothes hanger, all are touched by murder. Here's a post guard. It's a familiar object, slightly soiled in its passage through the mails. Usual cancelation over the stamp, no ordary a dress twenty nine Saint Paul's Road, London. The message yes on the
message side of drawing rather well done. The rising sun rather a conventional representation, isn't it? Argent? Yes, h conventional, still a rather unconventional matter. Murders as it is unconventional in his ardent, I've often wondered why they owe so many executions at sunrise? Why they end lives at the beginning of the day. Anyway, that poster and today with a rising sun on it can be seen among the other exhibits in the Black Museum.
From the annals of the Criminal Investigation Department of the London Police, we bring you the dramatic stories of the crimes recorded by the objects in Scotland Yard's Gallery of Death, the Black Museum. In just a moment you will hear the Black Museum starring awesome wells now the Black Museum starring awesome wells.
Uh. Here we are in the Black Museum, Scotland Yards Museum of Murder. Yes, here lies death is a variety of form, swift or slow, mercifuler crool death this year laid out, remembered in detail, and perhaps waiting to strike again as a typewriter. This is an incident, is that, yes? Worthy of the Black Museum. Definitely the criminal care, the vicious planning that went into its use till a person who received the letters written on this machine in desperation
took her own life. As a Triald's toy, tiny mental airplane. It's rusty in places, propeller doesn't turn anymore, but there were fingerprints on this. They placed a killer at the scene of the crime for which he was hanged. Ah. Here we are as a postguards. The post guard with its drawing of a rising sun. It's clear at once that a skilled hand drew this turny picture. In this case,
many things were clear almost at once, and conclusions were drawn. However, that, of course is the story, the story which begins for us as Alfie Vine and his elderly mother turned into the entrance of twenty nine Saint Paul's Road, London. Healthy.
I refuse to go as tet fur then till you've told me what this is all about.
I'm surprising you, mums. Oh you've come all this way. You're gonna spoil it all now.
I'm not set froot and this house until you stop all this mystery.
Om mums, Well this is where I've got my rooms.
You're living here or twenty nine ports?
You know the address? Well, the dirty my place is all right, it's only the outside and it's key Elfie.
You've not wanted to show me this before.
I want to show you the girl who was waiting upstairs, Hofing. You haven't gone and got married, not yet, ma'am's, but we're planning, so I want you to meet her.
Oh, right, are going?
They went in, the shabby young man, the rusty, black clad, gray haired woman. They climbed the stairs one flight, only only one, but enough for missus Vine to see the scabby walls, a dirty stair rail, and untidy hall. Halfid placed his key in the lock and turned it and opened the door. Light from the window revealed a single room and washed in bed had raised the scream cause a young lady on the bed clad in the remnants of a nightgown. The gown, the sheets, the pillow were bloodstained.
Why wouldn't they be? The young lady's hand had been severed from her body. His mother had given her to the care of a neighbor. Alf here find some of the police. Shortly thereafter he faced Inspector Wood and Sergeant Cross of the CID Scotland. Yearn Tombya's mind that this Elice Cortland was once we say more than a fiance to you. We was married. I didn't want my mother to think we've gone and done it without our knowing, so we planned to do it over again after mum's better.
Where were you last night?
Time?
Working? Oh? You can check on the postal clerk night shift where Charing Cross substation? Check that, Sergeant sir, Of course you work Night's a lot, fine, it's a split schedule, Inspector two or three times sometimes more a week. You don't think I'd done Alison, do you. We're not thinking anything.
Yet, not until we find out from the lab exactly when she.
Died, poor Elie. She did you know much of her life? Nothing to depend on Jube. She met me? What did she do at night while you were working? I never asked. We trusted each other, we did, I see, Sergeant, I want the neighborhood expect to a skeptical You could hear it in his voice. The story was hard to say the least became a trifle more art one search and cross reported. Then you were all right every bar in the district, but not as Alice fine In most places.
She was Daisy Cumminspector understood. Came as no surprise therefore, and a frightened little man, a mighty shore ship's cook on leave, turned up with the Yes, Sir, I knew Daisy, but I wasn't with a Wednesday night, no, sir. Not. Then when did you see her last? That was Tuesday night, Inspector, and before that Monday and Sunday, do sir. We had dates, Daisy and me whenever I was ashore, always had a few drinks together at the Orc, at the Rising Sun,
places like that along Saint Paul's Road. But not Wednesday night, no, sir, Not the night she got herself killed. No, sir, why not? She had a date with somebody else I saw on, Sir, in the rising sun, I saw them. Were you jealous? No, Sir, I was with Daisy's friend, Marty Good. Look at you? Can you describe the men Daisy he was with? Why to look at him? I I believe I could? Could you pick him out of a group? What might sir? I'd try for you, Inspector, I'd really try. Apparently, stepped
forward is about to be made in the case. The ship's cook gives his description. Not very big, slim, like too shabby, but in a chenteo kind of way, about thirty years old, always totally loud, with a pencil kind of fella. Can always pick up a chat a description, not much to go on, but a starts again. The canvases covered the area, and now the various barmaids and tavern keepers remembered a man like that, remembered seeing a man like that with Daisy alias Alice, the girl who
literally lost her head. However, they went off further traces of the man in question. Inspector Wood and Sergeant Cross went back to the bedroom in Saint Paul's Road. Alright, Sartant with a fine toothcomb the whole room down to the base ports and behind them if necessary. The detectives took the toddred room of parts. The bed was dismantled, the window case run rolled, the washing cannon's piping sleep explored the bureau's investigate. The drawers were pulled out their contents.
Tourist on the bed. Hello, here's something, Inspector, a postcard I see purst mark the day before. Where was it caught in the back of his drawer between the bank board and the bottom? Interesting? What do you make of that drawing, Sutant? It looks like the old jab Flagg to me, I don't know of any Japanese eating place near here, Inspector in Dacy, meet me at age fifteen at the whatever the picture means? It's a rising sun,
isn't it? Artan? And there is a rising sun? Well that show fellows who are on Wednesday night.
M rather well drawn, almost a skilled hand an artist, maybe maybe possibly the killer as well.
Right back to work, Shartan. There may be a few more little messages like this. They found two more, hitting in the recesses of the back of the bureau. That was all.
It's a thousand to one shots aren't. But we'll try publishing these in the papers. Someone may recognize the handwriting or the sketches. More likely the sketches, and someone did.
M Hello, Larry, this is May May. That's wonderful, is it?
Larry? Then?
Why hadn't I heard from you in weeks art? We had a quadl Peari. I thought a certain beautiful mom was pretty well through with a certain artist. I should be, But you're not, Larry. Have you seen today's newspapers?
Why?
It's quite simple. A girl you'd been sending postcards to was murdered Wednesday night.
Oh how do know? I send her cards?
They're in the paper with drawings. I know your style, even in the PA.
I shall be flattered.
I guess I'm not nearly The police want to know who sent those cards?
Hey, Will you believe me when I tell you I never kill anyone? I believe you. I know you know?
For all times sake? Will you help me? I'm in trouble, May? Will you want trouble? What do you want me to do? Anyone asks? Will you anyone at all? Will you say? We were together from ten thirty on on Wednesday night for her long so then you went to earth Court when I went to King's Cross? Well were you with her? Does it matter me?
No? Not anymore?
I suppose cry to remember. May please n thirty earth Court, King's Cross. May Heston artist Martter once upon a time in love with artist named Larry and now asked to provide an alibi. In fact, he asked to provide an alibi which might never be needed.
May Haster lived with what she knew for a day or so, and then half reluctantly, her feet and her conscience took her to an office in the old building on the Thames. I understand your position, Miss Hester. I'm grateful you came to see me.
I I don't believe he child to inspect her.
But as long as you're looking for him.
You won't be looking for the right person, will you.
That's one way of saying it. R Ms Christler, Yes, inspected. I think you'd better give me his name it it's very Duncan you know where he lives at present?
May Hester knew she gave Inspector Wood an address on London's western edge. She left the environs of Scotland yard so did Inspector Wood Company, with sergeant course, mister Duncan.
Yes, I'm Duncan, I'm Inspector Woods id uh micro dentils. This is our cross. Will you come in, gentlemen, No, thank you. I'm afraid mister Duncan. We have to ask you to come out with us. We need to ask you a few questions and it'll be more convenient down at the yard.
Or today the post guard the little picture of the rising Sun on it is part of the exhibits the Black Museum.
In just a moment we will continue with the Black Museum starring Awesome Wells. And now we continue with the Black Museum Starring Awesome Wells. Larry Duncan was held on suspicion of murder. The inspector was convinced of his guilt. Duncan protested his innocence. The family called in a famous defender, but despite the presence in the case of Sir John Gripp, Scotland Yard charged Larry Duncan with the murder of Alice Vine alias Daisy Cummins, and preparations for the trial went forward.
Sir John conferred with Larry, how are you my boy?
Hally will sir that does my prison pallace show as yet, not yet. I like your confidence, Harry. I didn't kill a woman, sir, However, you were seeing with her that night a man I say that I believe who had been with her the three nights.
Previous, saw you both together in the writing.
Jun That's that's why I asked May to say we've been together after ten thirty that night.
Well, they have another witness, a tram conductor who states he saw you leave that house at five in the morning. He couldn't to see me. I take your word, but will a jury after that false alibi. I'll have to take my chances on that.
I guess.
Well, we'll see a little further investigation may bring a few more facts to light.
Sir John Cripps proceeded toward a few more effects. We kept we learned very quiet. Now until the try itself did he reveal his strategy, the evidence he expected to produce. In fact, the first move came sometime after Inspector Wood and Sergeant Cross had placed the police case in the record. The tram conductor, one Charles Powers, was on the witness stand, and I was certain, mister Powers, that the prisoner in the dark is the man who saw leaving twenty nine
some Palls Road that morning. I am an answer positive. Oh, mister boys walk, sir, he has a kind of a free swinging stride. Thank you. You may cross exactly tell you, mister Powers, let me refresh my memory. You have said the weather that tragic morning was Terrisley. Oh I did say so it was, thank you, And that you saw the man quite clearly by the light of a lamp boost Yes, sir, it's correct. And father, that you.
Heard a church clock in the vicinity strike five, I did, myler. I offer him evidence as a rebuttal of this man's testimony, the reports DULIA tested of the electric light company servicing that district, which contains the record that the street lights were extinguished that morning at four thirty seven a m. This man could not have seen any one by the
light of a street lamp. Make it say, and if it pleased the court, I have heard the Julia tested records of the London Weather Bureau not one drop of rain fell anywhere in London that morning.
I thank for ever. Thank you, my lad A skill lawyer in actions A fine thing to watch, isn't it? There was a witness and important with is completely demolished, his facts called in question, and his responsibility to run the pieces the prosecution suffered from them. Naturally, they attempted to regain their loss with Marty Shaw, the ship's cook. In conclusion, mister Shaw, you identified.
The prisoner as the man who was with the victim, the knight of the murder, I did, sir, Thank.
You your witness.
Mister Shaw, were you frightened when you heard of Miss cummings death?
Now? Why should not? Why shouldn't you be?
After all, mister Shaw, by your own testimony, you spent Sunday, Monday and Tuesday evenings with Miss Cummings. She was killed on Wednesdays, killed on Wednesday. Why shouldn't you have been frightened? You mean because I was the next man to the prisoner, next man to the murderer. Perhaps not next man to the prisoner might be or was to.
Realize, didn't you that your position might turn out to be unpleasant? Yes, sir, I'll tussargai. Then you discuss the matter with another lady friend of the decease. What if jed nothing nothing at all, except perhaps that from this woman you obtained a detailed description of a certain friend of Miss Cummings, and from that description you picked up the prisoner at an.
Identification for thee Well, mister Shaw, answer me. Speak up, mister Shaw. The judge and the jury want to hear your answer. So ry, yes, sir, I did that. Thank you, mister Shaw.
That is all another witness is testimony discredited, his motives called in question the propriety of his identification. More than call in question, the courtroom crowd was making bets as it filed out. After the first day, the odds were swinging away from the prosecution and toward the young man who sat quietly in the prisoner's dark sketching. Sketching After all, right, Duncan was an artist. An artist wants to keep the record of his experiences, even on his life. Thanks and
the balance. Next day a prosecution called may Hester. Miss Hester, how did you learn of this crime in the newspapers and how did you first connect the prisoner with it in your mind?
Well, when I saw the postcard in the paper.
The one with a drawing on it, it was Larry's, mister.
Duncan's style, I recognized it.
What did you do? I called him on the phone. What happened? He asked me? To give him an.
Alibi, a false alabam. Yes, he wanted me to say that I've been with him that night, And what did you do? I agreed? Then I thought it over and I went.
To the police anywhere, Thank yous Sin Sabbath, miss Hester.
Why did you go to the police, Well, I was afraid of suppose had you been in love with mister Duncan?
I'm that is? Yes? Uh huh? Was he in love with you? I thought? So? Have you ever heard of an emotion called jealousy? Miss Hester? He was over?
Are there reason to be jealous?
I submit, Miss Hester, that when you thought it over, when you realized that mister Duncan had apparently gone to this woman after his protestations to you that you were not afraid that you were jealous enough to want to revenge? He was not. So let's not you were afraid of what that this man might try to murder? You know, of course, not literally did mister Duncan could. Wasn't a sigh, Miss Hester? When mister Duncan asked you for the alibi,
did you know the time of the murder? No? No, when did you learn of it?
Here in the medical testimony, did the question of.
The time of the death, end of your mind when you went to the police. No, no, of course not. I asked you again, Miss Hester. Can you say you were motivated only by fear and not by jealousy or revenge? Yes, yes, I was.
Only afraid, afraid of what I was afraid that well evenly hadn't done it, and and I had.
I'm getting to trouble myself.
And you were willing to sacrifice the reputation, perhaps even the life of the man you loved because you were afraid to get into the objestion the lord irrelevant, incompetent and immitrrial. I withdraw the question. That is all, Miss Hester, Thank you very much. Thereafter the prosecution rested their case, or what was left of it, so John call Arry Duncan as his first words for the defense testimony was short. I didn't pure. I left him at the rising sun
that night around midnight. I kill Nor could the Crowns prosecutor shake his statement. Next and last witness of the defense one David Wallace, a ticket agent on a suburban railroad. Mister Wallace, what is your address twenty six Saint Paul's Road? What time did you leave your house. The morning after this killing, my regular time, sir, five minutes to five h Did you see anyone that morning? Yes, sir, a man going in the opposite direction. Only one man, only one, sir.
Are you conscious that you have a rather free swinging stride? Who I do it on purpose? It's good for you.
In the morning, with a permission at the court, I request a small demonstration. Who see stepped down a moment, mister Wallace, please I sir, No, then just telling up the collar of your coat. Ah, thank you? Put on your hat, will you thank you?
Now? Will you walk please? In the mornings, just out briave deepon all please like this. It was unmistakable, the free swinging stride. It was established that there was a man on proper decent business walking in Saint Paul's road at five that morning. The prosecution had no cross examination for mister Wallace. The Crown summed up. Sir John sumed up.
The judge's charge was brief and to the point. In cases such as this, if there is any reasonable doubt in your minds, gentlemen of the jury, it is incumbent on you to give the prisoner the benefit of that doubt. At eight thirty. The same evening, the jury filed back into the box. The clerk solemnly intoned the old question, have you reached a verdict? We have? Again, the clerk spoke, what is your verdict? We find the accused not guilty?
Er he to day that postcard, whatever it may mean, with its rising sun, reposes in't a place of honor in the Black Museum.