'Quarter of a mile — no more.'
'The suspects are beginning to queue up, aren't they, Lewis?'
'Is Mrs. Taylor a suspect?'
'Why not? As far as I can see, she'd have had no trouble at all. Left Bingo at 9.00 p.m. and called in at the Jericho Arms at 9.30 p.m. or so. On the way she walks within a couple of hundred yards of Baines's place, eh? And where does it all leave us? If Baines was murdered at about 9.30 last night — what have we got? Three of 'em — all with their telephone numbers on Baines's little list.'
'And there's Acum, too, sir. Don't forget him.'
Morse looked at his watch. It was 8.00 p.m. 'You know, Lewis, it would be a real turn-up for the books if Acum was playing darts in the Jericho Arms last night, eh? Or sitting at a Bingo board in the Town Hall?'
'He'd have a job wouldn't he, sir? He's in Caernarfon.'
'I'll tell you one thing for sure, Lewis. Wherever Acum was last night he wasn't in Caernarfon.'
He picked up the phone and dialled a number. The call was answered almost immediately.
'Hello?' The line crackled fitfully, but Morse recognized the voice.
'Mrs. Acum?'
Yes. Who is it?'
'Morse. Inspector Morse. You remember, I rang you up—'
'Yes, of course I remember.'
'Is your husband in yet?'
'No. I think I mentioned to you, didn't I, that he wouldn't be back until late tonight?'
'How late will he be?'
'Not too late, I hope.'
'Before ten?'
'I hope so.'
'Has he got far to travel?'
'Quite a long way, yes.'
'Look, Mrs. Acum. Can you please tell me where your husband has been?'
'I told you. He's been on a teachers' conference. Sixth form French.'
'Yes. But where exactly was that?'
'Where? I'm not quite sure where he was staying.'
Morse was becoming impatient. 'Mrs. Acum, you know what I mean. Where was the conference? In Birmingham?'
'Oh, I'm sorry. I see what you mean. It was in Oxford, actually.'
Morse turned to Lewis and his eyebrows jumped an inch. 'In Oxford, you say?'
'Yes. Lonsdale College.'
'I see. Well, I'll ring up again — about ten. Will that be all right?'
'Is it urgent, Inspector?'
'Well, let's say it's important, Mrs. Acum.'
'All right, I'll tell him. And if he gets back before ten, I'll ask him to ring you.'
Morse gave her his number, rang off, and whistled softly. 'It gets curiouser and curiouser, does it not, Lewis? How far is Lonsdale College from Kempis Street?'
'Half a mile?'
'One more for the list, then. Though I suppose Acum's got just as good, or just as bad, an alibi as the rest of'em.'
'Haven't you forgotten one possible suspect, sir?'
'Have I?' Morse looked at his sergeant in some surprise.
'Mrs. Phillipson, sir. Two young children, soon in bed, soon asleep. Husband safely out of the way for three hours or so. She's got as good a motive as anybody, hasn't she?'
Morse nodded. 'Perhaps she's got a better motive than most.' He nodded again and looked sombrely at the carpet.
With a startling suddenness, a large spider darted across the floor with a brief, electric scurry— and, as suddenly, stopped — frozen into a static, frightening immobility. A fat-bodied, long-legged spider, the angular joints of the hairy limbs rising high above the dark squat body. Another scurry — and again the frozen immobility — more frightening in its stillness than in its motion. It reminded Morse of a game he used to play at children's parties called 'statues'; the music suddenly stopped and — still! Freeze! Don't move a muscle! Like the spider. It was almost at the skirting board now, and Morse seemed mesmerized. He was terrified of spiders.
