Last Bus To Woodstock

the message any earlier, because the letter would be lying on the door-mat when she got in. In fact she'd almost certainly get it later. But all this is assuming that Crowther could write the day before to arrange a meeting, and as I say I suspect that he very often couldn't. But there's another much more important point, Lewis. You say that Jennifer couldn't contact Sue during the day. But she could, and she often did. The two of them met fairly regularly for a snack at lunchtime. They met in a little cafe next to M and S. I know that, Lewis. I've been there.' Morse intoned the last words in a melancholy, mechanical way, and Lewis looked at him curiously. There was something that Morse had said a few minutes ago. It was almost as if. .

'Jennifer Coleby must have known all about it then, sir.'

'I don't know about all. She knew enough, though. Too much. I suppose. .' He lapsed into silence for a few moments, but when he resumed there was more spring and spirit in his voice. 'I don't know how it started, but at some stage they must have told each other about themselves. They tell me that women, and men, too, for that matter, enjoy talking to someone else about their conquests; and some chance remark probably brought the two of them together, and a bond of conspiracy was soon forged. I think there can be no doubt about that. I suspect it was Crowther, perhaps after a couple of misunderstandings and disappointments over meetings with Sue, who suggested the idea of dropping some harmless-looking note addressed to Jennifer Coleby into the letter-box of Town and Gown. I'm pretty sure he had the sort of mind that enjoyed the idea of cryptic messages, and the practice grew and this became their normal channel of communication. He would stroll past and put a letter or a postcard through the front door of the office. Simple — not even out of his way. It probably only happened at first when an unexpected opportunity arose, but as time went on it became the normal practice, so normal that he even followed it for his last and crucial message to her. And quite apart from being a neat and extremely useful device, it must have seemed a godsend to Crowther not to have to write any actual letters as such to Sue. Like most people in such illicit affairs he must have had a dread of a letter going astray, being opened by the wrong person, or being found somewhere. No one could learn very much his way, could he, even if he did find the letters?'

'When did you first think it was Miss Widdowson, sir?' Lewis asked his question with an unwonted gentleness, for at last he had begun to understand.

Morse stared wearily and sadly at the desk in front of him, the fingers of the left hand drumming nervously on the surface. 'I suppose there were the vaguest hints — oh, I don't know. But I wasn't certain until last Friday. Perhaps the first time I began to suspect the truth was when I checked the evening-class register for Margaret Crowther's attendance record. I happened to notice, purely by accident really, that by some divine mischance Palmer's wife was a member of the same class. And it made me wonder; it made me wonder a lot. I thought it most improbable that Jennifer Coleby was the sort of person to grant a lot of favours without getting some in return; and I pondered on the bond that must exist between her and the other girl. In a roundabout way I considered the possibility of both girls being in similar circumstances, in the same sort of relationship with other people. With men. And so I did a lot of guessing, and I thought of Crowther with somebody and Jennifer with somebody; and then Palmer fitting in somewhere perhaps? And then. . Well, and then I thought of Sue Widdowson, and suddenly the pieces began to click together. Could Jennifer be having an affair with Palmer? So often in this sort of situation it's someone you meet at work; and who was there at Town and Gown but Palmer? He was the only man on the premises. I kept wondering what it was that Jennifer was getting out of the bargain. And it suddenly struck me that there was one thing that she would want above all. Do you know what that was, Lewis?'

'I'm afraid I've no experience in that sort of thing, sir.'

'Nor have I,' said Morse.

'Well, I suppose you'd want a place where you could be alone together. . Oh, I see. You mean. .'

'Yes, Lewis. Someone could offer Jennifer a room where she could be alone with Palmer. Mary wasn't out all that much. But whenever she was, the coast was clear, because the other member of the trio could also arrange to be conveniently absent at the same time. And that's what she did.'

'Just a minute, sir.' Some worry was nagging away at the back of Lewis's mind. He was thinking back to the night of Wednesday, 29 September. . Then he had it. 'But the house would have been free, wouldn't it, on that Wednesday night? I thought you said that Mary had gone to the pictures or something.'

'Well make a detective of you yet, Lewis.' Morse got up from his leather chair, clapped his hand on his sergeant's shoulder, and stood watching the threatening clouds roll slowly westward. It had stopped raining now and the shallow puddles in the yard lay undisturbed. That was another of Jennifer's lies, I'm afraid. Mary was at home that night — she told me so. But even if Mary had been out, I don't think it would have made any difference. I'm pretty sure that Jennifer's job was to drive Sue to meet Crowther. That was her part of the bargain. And on Wednesday, 29 September, they both had their dates — as we know.'

'But why didn't they. .' Lewis appeared reluctant to continue the sentence, and Morse did it for him.

'Why didn't the four of them take the opportunity of using the house whenever Mary was out? Is that what you mean?'

'Yes.'

'Well, it was a pretty safe bet for Palmer, of course. He lives a good way off and very few people would be likely to know him in North Oxford. Anyway it was a reasonable risk. In fact I know he's been there. I had the house watched all last week, and on Wednesday night Palmer's car was parked in the next road. McPherson found it — I'd put him on special duty.' A slightly pained expression crossed Lewis's face, but Morse ignored it. 'He didn't actually see Palmer go in, but he saw him come out, and I saw Palmer myself on Friday night when I had it all out with him.'

'But it was too risky for Crowther?'

'What do you think? He lived only a stone's throw from the place. No, it would be the stupidest thing imaginable for him to do. He'd lived there for years. Virtually everyone knew him, and he walked along the same street almost every night when he went for a drink at The Fletcher's Arms. People would have started talking immediately. No, no. That was not on from the start.'

'So when they both had dates. .'

'It was Jennifer's job to give Sue a lift, yes.'

'So if Jennifer hadn't suddenly found a puncture in her tire that night, Sylvia might never have been murdered.'

'No, she wouldn't.' Morse crossed the room and sat down again in his chair. He had almost finished. 'On the night of the murder, Sue Widdowson was impatient and probably a bit annoyed with Jennifer. I don't know. Anyway she felt she couldn't wait while Jennifer was ringing up about the puncture, and finally finding some decent old boy across the way who might take ages. She thought she'd be late and so she decided to catch a bus. She walked over