Mrs Adams was a widow of some eighty summers, a small old lady who had now lost all her own teeth, much of her wispy white hair, and even more of her hearing. But her wits were sharp enough, Morse sensed that immediately; and her brief evidence was of considerable interest. She had slept poorly the previous night; got up early; made herself some tea and toast; listened to the news on the radio at seven o'clock; cleared away; and then gone out the back to empty her waste-bin. That's That's when she'd seen him! when she'd seen him!

'Him?' 'Pardon?'

"You're sure it was a man?' man?'

'Oh yes. About twenty - twenty-five past seven.'

The case was under way.

"You didn't hear any shots or bangs?'

'Pardon?'

Morse let it go.

But he managed to convey his thanks to her, and to explain that she would be asked to sign a short statement. As he prepared to leave, he gave her his card.

'I'll leave this with you, Mrs Adams. If you remember anything else, please get in touch with me.'

He thought she'd understood; and he left her there in her kitchen, holding his card about three or four inches from her pale, rheumy eyes, squinting obliquely at the wording.

She was not, as Morse had quickly realized, ever destined to be called before an ident.i.ty parade; for although she might be able to spot that all of them were men, any physiognomical differentiation would surely be wholly beyond the capacity of those tired old eyes.

Poor Mrs Adams!

Sans teeth, sans hair, sans ears, sans eyes - and very soon, alas, sans everything.

Seldom, in any investigation, had Morse so badly mishandled a key witness as now he mishandled Mrs Arabella Adams.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO.

Alibi (adv.): (adv.): in another place, elsewhere in another place, elsewhere (Small's Latin-English Dictionary) (Small's Latin-English Dictionary) SOME PERSONS IN life eschew all sense of responsibility, and are never wholly at ease unless they are closely instructed as to what to do, and how and when to do it. Sergeant Lewis was not such a person, willing as he was always to shoulder his share of responsibility and, not infrequently, to face some apportionment of blame. Yet, to be truthful, he was ever most at ease when given some specific task, as he had been now; and he experienced a pleasing sense of purpose as he drove up to Police HQ that same afternoon. life eschew all sense of responsibility, and are never wholly at ease unless they are closely instructed as to what to do, and how and when to do it. Sergeant Lewis was not such a person, willing as he was always to shoulder his share of responsibility and, not infrequently, to face some apportionment of blame. Yet, to be truthful, he was ever most at ease when given some specific task, as he had been now; and he experienced a pleasing sense of purpose as he drove up to Police HQ that same afternoon.

One thing only disturbed him more than a little. For almost a week now Morse had forgone, been forced to forgo, both beer and cigarettes. And what foolishness it was to capitulate, as Morse had had done, to both, within the s.p.a.ce of only a couple of hours! But that's what life was all about - personal decisions; and Morse had clearly decided that the long-term disintegration of his liver and his lungs was a price well worth paying, even with diabetes, for the short-term pleasures of alcohol and nicotine. done, to both, within the s.p.a.ce of only a couple of hours! But that's what life was all about - personal decisions; and Morse had clearly decided that the long-term disintegration of his liver and his lungs was a price well worth paying, even with diabetes, for the short-term pleasures of alcohol and nicotine.

Yet Morse was still on the ball. As he had guessed, Storrs had left details of his weekend whereabouts at the Porters' Lodge. And very soon Lewis was speaking to the Manager of Bath's Royal Crescent Hotel - an appropriately cautious man, but one who was fully co-operative once Lewis had explained the unusual and delicate nature of his enquiries. The Manager would ring back, he promised, within half an hour.

Lewis picked up the previous day's copy of the Daily Mirror, Daily Mirror, and sat puzzling for a few minutes over whether the answer to 1 across - 'River and sat puzzling for a few minutes over whether the answer to 1 across - 'River (3)' (3)' - was - was CAM, DEE, EXE, FAL CAM, DEE, EXE, FAL, and so on through the alphabet; finally deciding on CAM CAM, when he saw that it would fit neatly enough with COD COD, the fairly obvious answer to 1 down -'Fish (3)'. (3)'. He had made a firm start. But thereafter he had proceeded little, since the combination which had found favour with the setter of the crossword ( He had made a firm start. But thereafter he had proceeded little, since the combination which had found favour with the setter of the crossword (EXE/ EEL) had wholly eluded him. His minor hypothesis, like Morse's earlier major one, was sadly undone.

But he had no time to return (quite literally) to square one, since the phone rang. It had taken the Manager only fifteen minutes to a.s.semble his fairly comprehensive information ...

Mr and Mrs J. Storrs had checked into the hotel at 4 p.m. the previous afternoon, Sat.u.r.day, 2 March: just the one night, at the special weekend-break tariff of 125 for a double room. The purpose of the Storrs' visit (almost certainly) had been to hear the Bath Festival Choir, since one of the reception staff had ordered a taxi for them at 7 p.m. to go along to the Abbey, where the Faure Requiem Requiem was the centrepiece of the evening concert. The couple had been back in the hotel by about half past nine, when they had immediately gone into the restaurant for a late, pre-booked dinner, the only extra being a bottle of the house red wine. was the centrepiece of the evening concert. The couple had been back in the hotel by about half past nine, when they had immediately gone into the restaurant for a late, pre-booked dinner, the only extra being a bottle of the house red wine.

If the sergeant would like to see the itemized bill... ?

No one, it appeared, had seen the couple after about 11 p.m., when they had been the last to leave the restaurant. Before retiring, however, Mr Storrs had rung through to room service to order breakfast for the two of them, in their room, at 7.45 a.m.: a full English for himself, a Continental one for his wife.

Again, the itemized order was available if the sergeant...

Latest check-out from the hotel (as officially specified in the brochure) was noon. But the Storrs had left a good while before then. As with the other details (the Manager explained) some of the times given were just a little vague, since service personnel had changed. But things could very soon be checked. The account had been settled by Mr Storrs himself on a Lloyds Bank Gold Card (the receptionist recalled this clearly), and one of the porters had driven the Storrs' BMW round to the front of the hotel from the rear garage - being tipped (it appeared) quite liberally for his services.

So that was that.

Or almost almost so - since Lewis was very much aware that Morse would hardly be overjoyed with such findings; and he now asked a few further key questions. so - since Lewis was very much aware that Morse would hardly be overjoyed with such findings; and he now asked a few further key questions.

'I know it's an odd thing to ask, sir, but are you completely sure that these people were were Mr and Mrs Storrs?' Mr and Mrs Storrs?'

'Well, I ...' The Manager hesitated long enough for Lewis to jam a metaphoric foot inside the door.

"You knew them - know them - personally? personally?

'I've only been Manager here for a couple of years. But, yes - they were here twelve months or so ago.'

'People change, though, don't they? He He might have changed quite a bit, Mr Storrs, if he'd been ill or ... or something?' might have changed quite a bit, Mr Storrs, if he'd been ill or ... or something?'

'Oh, it was him him all right. I'm sure of that. Well, all right. I'm sure of that. Well, almost almost sure. And he signed the credit-card bill, didn't he? It should be quite easy to check up on that.' sure. And he signed the credit-card bill, didn't he? It should be quite easy to check up on that.'

'And you're quite sure it was her, her, sir? Mrs Storrs? Is there any possibility at all that he was spending the night with someone else?' sir? Mrs Storrs? Is there any possibility at all that he was spending the night with someone else?'

The laugh at the other end of the line was full of relief and conviction.

'Not - a - chance! You can be one hundred per cent certain of that. I think everybody here remembers her. She's, you know, she's a bit sharp, if you follow my meaning. Nothing unpleasant - don't get me wrong! But a little bit, well, severe. severe. She dressed that way, too: white trouser-suit, hair drawn back high over the ears, beauty-parlour face. Quite the lady, really.' She dressed that way, too: white trouser-suit, hair drawn back high over the ears, beauty-parlour face. Quite the lady, really.'

Lewis drew on his salient reminiscence of Angela Storrs: 'It's not always easy to recognize someone who's wearing sungla.s.ses, though.'

'But she wasn't wearing sungla.s.ses. Not when I saw her, anyway. I just happened to be in reception when she booked in. And it was she she recognized recognized me' me' You see, the last time they'd been with us, You see, the last time they'd been with us, she she did the signing in, while Mr Storrs was sorting out the luggage and the parking. And I noticed the registration number of their BMW and I mentioned the coincidence that we were both "188J". She reminded me of it yesterday. She said they'd still got the same car.' did the signing in, while Mr Storrs was sorting out the luggage and the parking. And I noticed the registration number of their BMW and I mentioned the coincidence that we were both "188J". She reminded me of it yesterday. She said they'd still got the same car.'

You can swear to all this?'

'Certainly. We had quite a little chat. She told me they'd spent their honeymoon in the hotel - in the Sarah Siddons suite.'

Oh.

So that was that.

An alibi - for both of them.

Lewis thanked the Manager. 'But please do keep all this to yourself, sir. It's always a tricky business when we're trying to eliminate suspects in a case. Not suspects, suspects, though,just.. .just people.' though,just.. .just people.'

A few minutes later Lewis again rang the Storrs' residence in Polstead Road; again listening to Mrs Storrs on the answerphone: 'If the caller will please speak clearly after the long tone ...' The voice was a little -what had the Manager said? - a little 'severe', yes. And quite certainly (Lewis thought) it was a voice likely to intimidate a few of the students if she became the new Master's wife. But after waiting for the 'long tone', Lewis put down the phone without leaving any message. He always felt awkward and tongue-tied at such moments; and he suddenly realized that he hadn't got a message to leave in any case.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE.

Horse-sense is something a horse has that prevents him from betting on people (Father Mathew) MORSE WAS STILL seated at the kitchen table in Number 15 when Lewis rang through. seated at the kitchen table in Number 15 when Lewis rang through.

'So it looks,' concluded Lewis, 'as if they're in the clear.'

'Ye-es. How far is it from Oxford to Bath?' 'Seventy, seventy-five miles?'

'Sunday morning. No traffic. Do it in an hour and a half - no problem. Three hours there and back.'

'There's a murder to commit in the middle, though.'

Morse conceded the point "Three and a half.'

'Well, whatever happened, he didn't use his own own car. That was in the hotel garage - keys with the porter.' car. That was in the hotel garage - keys with the porter.'

'Haven't you heard of a duplicate duplicate set of car-keys, Lewis?' set of car-keys, Lewis?'

'What if he was locked in - or blocked in?' 'He unlocked himself, and unblocked himself, all right?'

'He must have left about four o'clock this morning then, because he was back in bed having breakfast with his missus before eight.'

'Ye-es.'

'I just wonder what Owens was doing, sir - up and about and dressed and ready to let the murderer in at half past five or so.'

'Perhaps he couldn't sleep.'

"You're not taking all this seriously, are you?'

'All right. Let's cross 'em both off the list, I agree.'

'Have we got got a list?' a list?'

Morse nodded. 'Not too many on it, I know. But I'd like to see our other runner in the Lonsdale Stakes.' 'Do you want me me to see him?' to see him?'

'No. You get back here and look after the shop till the SOCOs have left - they're nearly through.'

With which, Morse put down the phone, got to his feet, and looked cautiously through into the hallway; then walked to the front door, where a uniformed PC stood on guard.

'Has the Super gone?' asked Morse.

"Yes, sir. Five minutes ago.'

Morse walked back to the kitchen and opened the door of the refrigerator. The usual items: two pints of Co-op milk, Flora margarine, a packet of unsmoked bacon rashers, five eggs, a carton of grapefruit juice, two cans of Courage's bitter.. .

Morse found a gla.s.s in the cupboard above the draining-board, and poured himself a beer. The liquid was cool and sharp on his dry throat; and very soon he had opened the second can, his fingers almost sensuously feeling the cellophane-wrapped cigarettes in his pocket, still unopened.

By the time the SOCOs were ready to move into the kitchen, the gla.s.s had been dried and replaced on its shelf.

'Can we kick you out a little while, sir?' It was Andrews, the senior man.

You've finished everywhere else?'

'Pretty well.'

Morse got to his feet.

'Ah! Two cans of beer!' observed Andrews. 'Think they may have had a drink together before ... ?'

'Not at that time of the morning, no.'

'I dunno. I used to have a friend who drank a pint of Guinness for breakfast every morning.'

'Sounds a civilized sort of fellow.'

'Dead. Cirrhosis of the liver.'

Morse nodded morosely.

'Anyway, we'll give the cans a dusting over, just in case.'

'I shouldn't bother,' said Morse. 'Won't do any harm, surely?' 'I said, I shouldn't bother,' bother,' snapped Morse. And suddenly Andrews understood. snapped Morse. And suddenly Andrews understood.

Upstairs there was little to detain Morse. In the front room the bed was still unmade, a pair of pyjamas neatly folded on the top pillow. The wardrobe appeared exactly as he'd viewed it earlier. Only one picture on the walls: Monet's miserable-looking version of a haystack.

The 'study' (Morse's second visit there too!) was in considerable disarray, for the desk-drawers, now liberally dusted with fingerprint powder, had been taken out, their contents strewn across the floor, including the book which had stimulated some interest on Morse's previous visit. The central drawer likewise had been removed, and Morse a.s.sumed that after discovering the theft of the manila file Owens had seen no reason to repair the damaged lock.

Nothing much else of interest upstairs, as far as Morse could see; just that one, easy conclusion to be drawn: that the murderer had been looking for something -some doc.u.ments, some papers, some evidence which could have const.i.tuted a basis for blackmail.

Exactly what Morse had been looking for.

Exactly what Morse had found.

He smiled sadly to himself as he looked down at the wreckage of the room. Already he had made a few minor blunders in the investigations; and one major, tragic blunder, of course. But how fortunate that he'd been able to avail himself of JJ's criminal expertise, since otherwise the crucial evidence found in the manila file would have vanished now for ever.

Downstairs, Morse had only the living-room to consider. The kitchen he'd already seen; and the nominal 'dining-room' was clearly a room where Owens had seldom, if ever, dined - an area thick with dust and crowded with the sorts of items most householders regularly relegate to their lofts and garden sheds: an old electric fire, a coal scuttle, a box of plugs and wires, a traffic cone, an ancient Bakelite wireless, a gla.s.s case containing a stuffed owl, a black plastic lavatory-seat, six chairs packed together in the soixante-neuf position -and a dog-collar with the name 'Archie' inscribed on its disc.

Perhaps, after all, there had been some little goodness somewhere in the man?

Morse had already given permission for the body to be removed, and now for the second time he ventured into the living-room. Not quite so dust-bestrewn here, certainly; but manifestly Owens had never been a houseproud man. Surfaces all around were dusted with powder, and chalk-marks outlined the body's former configuration on the settee. But the room was dominated by blood - the stains, the smell of blood; and Morse, as was his wont, turned his back on such things, and viewed the contents of the room.

He stood enviously in front of the black, three-decked Revox CD-ca.s.sette player which stood on a broad shelf in the alcove to the left of the front window, with dozens of CDs and ca.s.settes below it, including, Morse noted with appreciation, much Gustav Mahler. And indeed, as he pressed the 'Play' panel, he immediately recognized Das Lied von der Erde. Das Lied von der Erde.