Black Museum-37-A Service Card

This is Orson Welles speaking from London. Here in the grim stone structure on the Thames, which houses Scott and Yard is a warehouse of homicide, where everyday objects, a light bulb, a broken mirror, stained blotting pad, all untouched by murder, out of service card issued by a garage to show that a certain motor car was oil and greased

on the speedometer reading was 15,001. According to the card, his car had done 5,001 miles on the first. By the following day, he'd added another 160 miles to the speedometer reading. And he told you, Inspector, he hadn't been on any long journeys.

He'd forgotten the speedometer reading on the service card. They all overlooked something. And a harmless-looking service card which George Dalton overlooked was instrumental in convicting him of the brutal murder of his own mother and father.

That's why it's earned its place here 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.

Black Museum. As beyond these stone walls, the life of London flows as ceaselessly as the muddy waters of Thames. Here, it's silence. Let us walk under the freeze of death masks.

The masks of criminals who bygone days suspended grimly under the ceiling. That glass funnel means nothing until we stop and read the card beside it. Once this funnel was used to pour acid over the body of a woman, it's significant in itself easily broken, but was strong enough to hang a murderer.

And here's a pair of spectacles. Over there's a powder puff. And here's what we're after, the buff colored service card. As I open the showcase and take it between my fingers, I ask you to come with me back to 1947.