Inspector Morse 13 The Remorseful Day

about a quarter-to-seven, where she listened to The Archers, had a long hot

bath, watched the Nine O'clock News, and then had an early night."

"Making no mention in the course of her evidence that she had a phone call in

the middle of the evening, as a result of which she tore down to the ABC

Cinema, bought a ticket for The Full Monty ' " Probably no seats left that

night, sir.  "

' - bought a ticket and promptly tore it across the middle and then tore out

of the place."

"Sir!  Not so much of this tearing about all over the shop!  She'd sprained

her ankle just before then and she'd probably be hobbling ' ' -she hobbled

out of the cinema with a very valuable little alibi in her pretty little

hand."

"Alibi for Simon, you mean?"

"Or for herself."

"You're losing me again, sir."

"I'm losing myself.  Don't worry."

"What about Frank Harrison?"

"You tell me\' " Well, anyone who finds the body first is usually going to be

number one in your book, I know that.  But there's no doubt about Paddy Flynn

being on taxi-shift from 8 p.  m.  that night.  He was seen on and off by his

fellow-drivers as well as being contacted at regular intervals from base.  No

doubt either about him picking up Frank Harrison about eleven from Oxford

railway station.  But that's not to say is it, sir?  - that Harrison had just

got off a train at the railway station.

It would be the most natural thing in the world for anyone to think he had,

but .  "

Morse smiled.

"Could hardly have put it better myself.  But somebody paid Flynn for

something.  So it was probably for something that happened after eleven

o'clock.  And there was only one person with Flynn then: Frank Harrison.  And

he's the only one of the whole bunch with the sort of money to buy Flynn off."

"And buy Repp off, if we're right about him being there that night.

Harrison must be earning, well.  .  .  "

"A little more than you are, Lewis, yes.  In fact he got a bonus - a bonus of

85,000 last year.  Seems he was sorting out his bank's involvement in the

Nazi confiscation of Jewish assets, and his bosses were more than pleased

with him."

"How on earth do you know that?"

 "Aren't we supposed to be detectives?"

Lewis pursued the matter no further.

"So, what do you think?"

"Waste of time as far as the children are concerned.  But it might help to

look at their father again."

"You think it was Harrison who murdered his wife?"

"I dunno."

"You think he murdered Flynn and Repp?"

"He had enough reason to.  He couldn't go on forking out indefinitely."

"So we'd better have a careful check on wherever he was that Friday morning."

"Well, wherever else he was he wasn't in his London office."

"How on earth ?"

"What else can I tell you?"  asked Morse wearily.

"I've just asked you.  Do you think he murdered Flynn and Repp?"

"He could have done.  But somehow I don't believe he did."

"So who .  .  .?"

"I keep telling you, Lewis.  My modest bet is still on Barron."

"Shouldn't we be looking a bit more into their backgrounds?  Repp's?

Flynn's?  Barren's?  "

"I don't think we're going to get anything more out of Debbie Richardson."

"Why do you say that?"

"Just a feeling, Lewis.  Just a feeling."

"What about Flynn?"

Morse nodded.

"You're right.  He was being paid for some- thing.

Exactly what, though .  .  .  Yes.  Leave that to me.  "

"What about Barron?  Shall I leave that to you, as well?"

"No, no!  The less I have to do with the women in this case the better.  You

go along.  And if you can find out more about where he was or where he was

supposed to be on both those days .  ..  Yes, you do that!"

"All right.  But don't you think we ought to widen the net, sir?

Haven't we got any other suspects?  "

"Tom Biffen, perhaps?"

Lewis's eyebrows shot up.

"You mean ?"

"The landlord of the Maiden's Arms, no less.  We'll go out and interview him

together once we get a chance.  You'll be able to buy me a pint."

"But wasn't it a Tuesday when Mrs Harrison was murdered?"

"You're right, yes."

"Well, he always goes out fishing on Tuesdays, Biffen - dawn to dusk."

"Really?  How on earth do you know that?"

"Aren't we supposed to be detectives, sir?"

chapter fifty-one Once cheated, wife or husband feels the same; and where

there's marriage without love, there will be love without marriage (Benjamin

Franklin, Poor Richard's AlmamuK) at 9.  30 a.  m.  the following day, Mrs

Linda Barron stepped back from the threshold, nodding rather wearily as Lewis

produced his ID.  In the kitchen, he accepted her offer of instant coffee.

She was a brunette of medium height, slightly overweight, with a small,

cupid-lipped mouth, wearing a blue-striped kitchen apron over skirt and

blouse.

Lewis decided she was coping with life, just about.

The smallish kitchen was cluttered with shelves and cupboards, the

floor-space additionally limited by the usual appliances: cooker, dishwasher,

fridge, micro-wave, washing machine.  Lewis immediately noticed the damp

patch of crumbling ceiling over the cooker.  Same old story!  Husband a

plumber, and a tap-washer never gets fixed; husband a builder, and there's a