with, beside it, a bottle of Glenfiddich, virtually empty, and a cut- glass
tumbler, completely empty. Morse had timed his exit fairly satisfactorily.
Lewis sat down and quickly looked through the letters: BT; British Diabetic
Association; Lloyds Bank; Oxford Brookes University.
Nothing too personal perhaps in any of them, but he left them there unopened.
He fully realized there would be quite a few details to be sorted out soon
by someone. Not by him though. He had but the single mission there.
In the second drawer down on the right, he found six photographs and took
them out. An old black-and-white snap of a middle-aged man and woman, the
man showing facial lineaments similar to Morse's. A studio portrait of a
fair-haired young woman, with a written message on the back: 'Like you I wish
so much that things could have been different love always W. Another smaller
photograph, with a brief sentence in Morse's own hand: ' Sue Widdowson before
she was arrested'. A holiday shot of a young couple on a beach somewhere,
the dark-headed bronzed young woman in a white bikini smiling broadly, the
young man's right arm around her shoulders, and (again) some writing on the
back
'I only look happy. I miss you like crazy!!! Ellie'. Clipped to a
photograph of a smartly attractive woman, in the uniform of a hospital
sister, was a brief letter under a Carlisle address and telephone number: ' I
understand. I just can't help wondering how we would have been together,
that's all'd have had to sacrifice a bit of independence too you know!
Always remember my love for you. J. '
Only the one other photograph: that of Morse and Lewis standing next to each
other beside the Jaguar, with no writing on the back at all.
Lewis tried the Carlisle number; with no success.
On the floor to the right of the desk lay a buff-coloured folder, its
contents splayed out somewhat, as if perhaps it may have been knocked down
accidentally; and he picked it up. On the front was written: 'For the attn.
of Lewis'.
The top sheet was the printed form D1/D2, issued by the Department of Human
Anatomy in South Parks Road, the second section duly signed by the donor; and
countersigned 359
by the same man who had witnessed the validity of the
second single sheet ofA4 to which Lewis now turned his attention: MY WILL I
expressly forbid the holding of any religious service to mark my death. Nor
do I wish any memorial service to be arranged thereafter. If any persons
wish to remember me in any way, let it be in their thoughts.
If these handwritten paragraphs have any legal validity, as I am assured they
do, my estate may be settled with little difficulty. I no longer have any
direct next-of-kin, and even if I have, it makes no difference.
My worldly goods and chattels comprise: my flat (now clear of mortgage); its
contents (including a good many rare first editions); two insurance policies;
and the monies in my two accounts with Lloyds Bank. The total assets
involved I take to be somewhere in the region of 150,000 at current rates and
values.
It is my wish that the said estate, after appropriate charges, be divided
(like Gaul) into three parts, in equal amounts (unlike Gaul) with the
beneficiaries as follows: (a) The British Diabetic Association (b) Sister
Janet McQueen (see address book) (c) Sergeant Lewis, my colleague in the
Thames Valley CID.
For several minutes, Lewis sat where he was, unmoving, but deeply moved. Why
in heaven Morse should have shown such bitterness toward the Church, he
couldn't know; and wouldn't know. And why on earth Morse had remembered him
with such . .
His thoughts still in confusion, Lewis tried the Carlisle number again; again
without success.
He washed out the empty tumbler in the bathroom, and returned to the study,
