Inspector Morse 13 The Remorseful Day

held his hand for a couple of days or so before threatening to spill at least

half the can of beans .  .  .  unless he could be persuaded otherwise.

Whatever the case, financial arrangements were made, and as far as we know

faithfully met.  After the murder of his wife, much money was diverted from

the assets of Frank H into other channels, although I'm still surprised to

learn that 311

 there may well have been some serious misappropriation of

funds at the Swiss Helvetia Bank.

All of which leaves one or two (or three!  ) points unresolved.

First, the burglar alarm.  Now on his train-trip from London Frank H must

have had thoughts galore.  Several times he would have phoned home from the

train, and Sarah must surely have been there to take the calls.  And it was

probably from the back of the taxi that Frank had the clever idea of ringing

Sarah and telling her he would be ringing again, when the taxi was only half

a minute or so from home, and asking her (Flynn wouldn't have heard, would

he?  ) to turn on the burglar alarm.  It was a clever idea, let's agree on

that.  It certainly and understandably caused huge confusion in the original

police enquiry.  The only person not wholly confused was Strange.  It was he,

from the word go, who suggested that the alarm might well have been set off

deliberately by the murderer himself.  (Never under-rate that man, Lewis!  )

The time, as Morse saw, was 3.  40 a.  m.  " almost exactly one hour after

he'd started writing.  He was feeling pleasantly tired, and he knew he would

slip into sleep so easily now.  Yet he wanted to go (as Flecker had said)

'always that little further'; and perhaps more immediately to the point he

wanted to pour himself a further Scotch which he did before resuming.

There is one more thing to consider, and it is of vital importance, as well

as being (almost!  ) the only thing about which I was less than honest with

you.  That is, the extraordinary relationship between a drink-doped,

drug-doped juvenile lout and an insignificant-looking little schoolma'am:

between Roy Holmes and Christine Coverley.

Something must have happened, probably at school, which had forged a wholly

improbable but strangely strong bond between them - including a sexual

relationship (she confessed as much).  That's the

reason she stayed on in Burford after the end of the summer term.  Why is

this important?  Because we have been making one fundamental assumption in

our enquiries which thus far has been completely unverified by any single

independent witness.  But truth will out!  And first, and forthwith, we shall

call in on Ms Coverley for further questioning.  How wise it was to hold our

horses before facing Frank Harrison with a whole (Here the narrative breaks

off.  ) Morse, who had been deeply asleep at his study desk, his head

pillowed on folded arms, jerked awake just before 7.  30 a.  m.  " feeling

wonderfully refreshed.  Life was a funny old business.

chapter sixty-seven To run away from trouble is a form of cowardice; and,

whilst it is true that the suicide braves death, he does it not for some

noble object but to escape some ill (Aristotle, Nicimwiean Ethics) the

following morning Lewis was pleased with himself.  Before Morse arrived, he'd

turned to the Police Gazette's

"Puzzle Corner', and easily solved the challenge there: What initially would

an intelligent cyclist's thought be on studying the following list of operas

by Verdi?

Tosca Aida Nabucco Don Carlos Emani Macbeth "Initially' - that was the clue;

and once you twigged it, the answer stared you in the face vertically.

Morse made an appearance at 9.  10 a.  m.  " looking (in Lewis's view) a

little fitter than of late.

"Want to test your brain, sir?"

"Certainly not!"

Lewis pushed the puzzle across the desk, and Morse considered it, though for

no more than a few seconds: "Do you know the answer?"

"Easy!

"Initially" , sir that's what you've got to think about.  Just look at the

first letters.  Cyclist?  Get it?  "

"I thought the question was what would an intelligent cyclist's thought be."

"I don't quite follow."

"Not difficult surely, Lewis?  You've just got the answer wrong, that's all.

Any intelligent cyclist, any bright bus-driver anyone!  would think exactly

the same thing immediately."

"They would?"

"The question's phoney.  Based on a false premise, isn't it?  Based on the

assumption that the facts you've been given are true."

"You mean they're not?"

Tosca?  Written by Verdif Oh dear!

"You were quick to spot that."

Morse grinned.

"Not really.  They often ask me to submit a little brain-teaser to the

Gazette."

"You mean ?"

Morse nodded.

"And talking of false premises, that's been a big part of our trouble.  We've

both been trying to check up on such a lot of things, haven't we?  But

there's one thing we've been prepared to accept without one ha'poth of

evidence.  So we'll get on to that without delay.  Couple of cars we'll need.

I'll just give Dixon a ring ' Lewis got to his feet.

"I can deal with all that, sir."

"Si' down, Lewis!  I want to talk to you."