Inspector Morse 12 Death is Now My Neighbour

I'm getting spliced. No, don't worry! I'm not asking you for anything this time!! He's nice and he's got a decent job and he says he loves me and he's okay in bed so what the hell. I don't really love him and you bloody well know why that is, don't you, you miserable stupid sod. Because I fell in love with you and I'm just as stupid as you are. St Anthony told me to tell you something but I'm not going to. I want to put my arms round you and hug you tight. God help me! Why didn't you look for me a bit harder Morse? Ellie

No address.

Of course, there was no address.

'Did you read this?' Morse spoke in level tones, looking up at his secretary with unblinking eyes.

'Only till... you know, I realized ...'

'You shouldn't have opened it.'

'No, sir,' she whispered.

'You can type all right?'

She nodded.

'And you can take shorthand?'

She nodded, despairingly.

'But you can't read?'

'As I said, sir...' The tears were starting.

'I heard what you said. Now just you listen to what I'm saying. This sort of thing will never happen again!'

'I promise, sir, it'll-'

'Listen!' Morse's eyes suddenly widened with an almost manic gleam, his nostrils flaring with suppressed fury as he repeated hi a slow, soft voice: 'It won't happen

again - not if you want to work for me any longer. Is that clear? Never. Now get out,' he hissed, 'and leave me, before I get angry with you.'

After she had left, Lewis too felt almost afraid to speak.

'What was all that about?' he asked finally.

'Don't you start poking your bloody nose-' But the sentence went no further. Instead, Morse picked up the letter and passed it over, his saddened eyes focused on the wainscoting.

After reading the letter, Lewis said nothing.

'I don't have much luck widi the ladies, do I?'

'She's still obviously wearing the pendant.'

'I hope so,' said Morse; who might have said rather more, but there was a knock on the door, and DC Learoyd was invited into the sanctum.

Morse handed over the newspaper cuttings concerning Lord Hardiman, together with the photograph, and explained Learoyd's assignment:

'Your job's to find out all you can. It doesn't look all that promising, I know. Hardly blackmail stuff these days, is it? But Owens thinks it is. And that's the point. We're not really interested in how many times he's been knocking on the doors of the knocking-shops. It's finding the nature of his connection with Owens.'

Learoyd nodded his understanding, albeit a little unhappily.

'Off you go, then.'

But Learoyd delayed. 'Whereabouts do you think would be a good place to start, sir?'

Morse's eyeballs turned ceilingward.

'What about looking up His Lordship in Debrett's Peerage, mm? It might just tell you where he lives, don't you think?'

'But where can I find a copy?'

'What about that big building in the centre of Oxford - in Bonn Square. You've heard of it? It's called the Central Library.'

Item 2 in the manila file, as Lewis had discovered earlier that morning, was OBE (Overtaken By Events, in Morse's shorthand). The Cheltenham firm of solicitors had been disbanded in 1992, its clientele dispersed, to all intents and purposes now permanendy incommunicado.

Item 3 was to be entrusted into the huge hands of DC Elton, who now made his entrance; and almost immediately his exit, since he passed no observations, and asked no questions, as he looked down at the paunchy paedo-philiac from St Albans.

'Leave it to me, sir.'

'And while you're at it, see how the land lies here.' Morse handed over the documentation on Item 4 - the accounts-sheets from the surgical appliances company in Croydon.

'Good man, that,' commented Lewis, as the door closed behind die massive frame of DC Elton.

'Give me Learoyd every time!' confided Morse. 'At least he's got the intelligence to ask a few half-witted questions.'