Inspector Morse 13 The Remorseful Day

enough, bit abrupt, not short of the pennies asked me to join him in glass of

champange ( 7 a go!  ) Thinning on top, thickening in middle.  Seems used to

getting what he wants in life.

SARAH H

Friday 24 July: at BDA Conference in Manchester with boss arr 12.  30 p.  m.

ret 9.  50 p.  m.  - rail both ways.  Forget her!  Monday 3 Aug: consultant

duties at Diabetes Centre in Ratcliffe Inf.  Saw ten patients.  Lunch in

League of Fiends cafeteria.  Forget her!

Attractive, clever, but perhaps hard st reek somewhere?

Yes!  Lewis felt pleased with his morning's work; and even more pleased with

his afternoon's work, after he'd typed up the notes, correcting four of the

six mis-spellings and tidying up one or two of the punctuation al blemishes.

There remained quite a bit of checking to be done, but none of it would be

particularly onerous, and most of it probably unnecessary.  The

general upshot was unambiguous.  None of the Harrison clan had murdered Flynn

or Repp.  Two of the three could have been on the scene when Ban-on was

killed but neither of them had murdered him, because no one had murdered him.

That was the only thing in the whole tragic business that now seemed wholly

incontrovertible.

chapter fifty-six Have I Got News For You!  (TV programme tide) in nowise

was Lewis surprised to meet Dixon in the police canteen.

"Busy day?"

"Well, yes and no really.  Morse rang me up early ' " He what^' spluttered

Lewis.

"Well, early for me.  Wanted me to check out on a few things, didn't he?"

"Such as?"

"Well, names of those going to lip-reading classes these last few years."

"Simon Harrison, you mean?"

"Didn't say, did he?  No problem, though.  Just got the lists photocopied,

didn't I?"

"What else?"

"Well, funny really.  He wanted me to find out who Flynn's dentist was ' " He

what?  "

"Well, easy that.  Then to find out something about that Mrs Holmes you know,

before she was married ..  .  before she had her accident."

Yes, Lewis could understand that.

"Then to ring that SOCO chap Andrews, the one who was out at Sutton

Courtenay.  Ask him to get a bit of a move on

you know, give him a kick up the arse, like, about the fingerprints.

Morse got him to take Barron's, you knew that, didn't you?  "

"Of course I knew that!"  lied Lewis, euphoria fading fast.

"Well, there we are then.  I suppose old Morse was just hoping, you know .  .

."

Yes, Lewis knew exactly what Morse had been hoping.

"Has Andrews found anything?"

"Well, still working on it, isn't he?  Messy old job, he said.  Soon as he

had any news though ... Anyway I called round and stuck the stuff through the

door.  He was there, I reckon.  The telly was on ' " What?  "

"Yeah, pretty certain of it.  But he didn't come to the door.  Odd sort of

chap, isn't he?"

But the introductory

"Well's and the inquisitorial clausulae, (hallmarks of every Dixon sentence)

had become too tiresome; and Lewis was glad when the canteen intercom cut

across the conversation: " Message for Chief Inspector Morse or Sergeant

Lewis: Please ring Northampton SO COs immediately.  I repeat.  Message for.

.  .  "

Where are you, Dixon, in the hierarchy here?  I'll tell you, mate.

Nowhere no bloody where that's where!

Yet Lewis left such ungracious thoughts unspoken, jumping to his feet and

leaving Dixon where he was, cheeks now jammed once more with a doughnut.

Two minutes later Lewis was through to an exultant Andrews, who wasted no

time in breaking the dramatic news: there was a 'hit' - yip pee  - a match of

fingerprints!  In the car.

Two sets definite, distinct.  The prints of J.  Barren, Builder of Lower

Swinstead!

As he walked back to the canteen (Morse's phone still

 engaged) Lewis

reflected on his brief exchange of views with Andrews.

Morse had asked for any news to be communicated to him direct, and if

necessary at his home number, though as both men knew there'd been little

chance of that.  Yet the situation was now perfectly clear; and Lewis freely

conceded that Morse's early conviction that Barren had been involved in the

murders seemed wholly vindicated.  No room for more than three people in the

cluttered stolen car, surely?  And since neither Flynn nor Repp had stepped

out of that car alive, the discovery of that third set of prints, Barron's,

was of momentous significance: Barron himself had been in the car.  The logic

sounded pretty childish when it was put like that but.  .

Andrews's guess had been that Morse had suddenly fallen into some deep

slumber after well, after whatever; and Dixon's guess that he'd been watching

TV with the volume too high.  But the latter explanation seemed unlikely.

Morse could (Lewis succumbed to his second unworthy thought that day) could

have purchased some pornographic video; but would he have been able to master

the operating instructions?  Doubtful -especially having no children (better

still, grandchildren) to explain things to him.  Morse seldom watched TV

anyway, or so he claimed.  Just the news.  Just occasionally.

Lewis finished his coffee, slowly coming to terms with the extraordinary news