The Silent World Of Nicholas Quinn

hours' work — seldom more, and often a little less. But she always charged for two hours, and none of the tenants had ever demurred. She liked to get things done whilst no one was about; and, with Quinn, 3–5 p.m. on Fridays was the regularly appointed time.

It was about poor Mr. Quinn, she knew that, and she invited Lewis in and told him the brief story. She had usually finished and gone before he got back home. But the previous Friday she had to call at the Kidlington Health Centre for Mr. Evans, who had bronchitis and was due to see the doctor again at 4.30 that day. But the weather was so dreadful that she thought he ought to stay in. So she went herself to get Mr. E another prescription, called in at the dispensing chemist, and then went home and got the tea. She got back to Quinn's house at about a quarter past six and stayed about half an hour to do the ironing.

'You left a note for him, didn't you, Mrs. Evans?'

'I thought he'd wonder why I hadn't finished.'

'That was at about four o'clock, you say?'

She nodded, and felt suddenly nervous. Had poor Mr. Quinn died on Friday night, just after she'd left, perhaps?

'We found the note in the wastepaper basket, Mrs. Evans.'

'I suppose you would, sir. If he screwed it up, like.'

'Yes, of course.' Lewis found himself wishing that Morse was there, but he put the thought aside. A few interesting ideas were beginning to develop. 'You left the note in the lounge?'

'Yes. On the sideboard. I always left a note there at the end of the month — when me four weeks' cleaning was up, like.'

'I see. Can you remember if Mr. Quinn's car was in the garage when you got back?'

'No, Sergeant. I'm sorry. It was raining, and I was on me bike and I just got in as fast as I could. Anyway, why should I look in the garage? I mean—'

'You didn't see Mr. Quinn?'

'No, I didn't.'

'Ah well. Never mind. We're obviously anxious—'

'You think he died on Friday night, then?'

'No, I wouldn't say that. But if we could find what time he got back from the office — well, it would be a great help. For all we know, he didn't get back home at all on Friday night.'

Mrs. Evans looked at him with a puzzled frown. 'But I can tell you what time he got home.'

The room was suddenly very quiet and Lewis looked up tensely from his notes. 'Will you say that again, Mrs. Evans?'

'Oh yes, Sergeant. You see, I left this note for him and he must have seen it.'

'He must have done, you say?'

'Must have done. You just said it was in the wastepaper basket.'

Lewis sank back in the sofa, his excitement ebbing away, he could have found the note any time, I'm afraid, Mrs. Evans.'

'Oh no. You don't understand. He'd seen the note before I got back at quarter past six.' Lewis was sitting very still again and listening intently. 'You see, he left a note for me, so—'

'He left a note for you?'

'Yes. Said he'd gone shopping, or something. I forget exactly — but something like that.'

'So you—' Lewis started again. 'You left the note at four o'clock and went back there at quarter past six, you say?'

'That's right.'

'So you think he must have got home — when? About five?'

'Well, yes. He usually got home about then, I think.'

'You're sure the note was for you?'

'Oh yes. It got me name on it.'

'Can you — can you remember exactly what it said?'

'Not really. But I tell you what, Sergeant: I might have still got it. I probably put it in me pinny, or something. I always wear—'

'Can you try to find it for me?'

As Mrs. Evans went out into the kitchen, Lewis found himself praying to the gods that for once they would smile upon him, and he felt almost sick with relief when she came with a small folded sheet of paper, and handed it to him. He read it with the awesome reverence of a druid brooding on the holy runes:

Mrs. E,

Just off shopping — shan't be long. NQ

It couldn't have been much briefer and it puzzled him a little; but he was fully aware of its huge importance.