The Jewel That Was Ours

'See here, Lewis!' He passed over three of the sheets and pointed to the answers to question (e):

P. Aldrich 10-27-90

E. Stratton 27th Oct 1990

H. Brown October 27

'Not conclusive though, is it, sir?'

But Morse appeared to have boarded a completely different train of thought: 'I was just wondering about their dates of birth. '

'Soon find out. I got Ashenden to collect in all their passports this morning.'

'You did?'

Lewis felt gratified to note the surprise and appreciation in Morse's eyes and voice, and very soon he was back with the passports.

'All here, are they?'

'Except Ashenden's. You're not, er, forgetting Ashenden, are you, sir?'

'Oh no! I'm not forgetting Ashenden,' replied Morse quietly, as taking out his Parker pen he wrote three d.o.b.s on a table napkin:

Aldrich: 8.4.1922

Stratton: 29.9.1922

Brown: 3.8.1918

'Two of 'em sixty-eight now, and one seventy-two. '

'You wouldn't think Brown was the oldest, though, would you, sir? He trots around like a two-year-old.'

'A two-year-old what?

Lewis sighed, but said nothing.

'He stayed in his room when his wife went off for a jaunt round Oxford, remember? And I still think one of the oddest things in this case is why Stratton didn't see his wife safely up to her room. It's not natural, Lewis. It's not how things happen.'

'What are you suggesting?' asked Lewis, vaguely.

'Brown said he stayed in his room when his wife and Stratton decided to look round Oxford. Said he was tired. Huh! As you said, he's as sprightly as a two-year-old.'

'A two-year-old what, sir?'

But Morse appeared to have missed the question.

In the Annexe, as if on cue, a tune could be heard quite clearly. First a few exploratory notes, presumably on the Steinway Grand that Morse had earlier admired in the Lancaster Room; then the whole melody as the pianist hired for the afternoon tea-room session fingered his way through the nostalgic chords of 'Love's Old Sweet Song'.

The two men listened in silence, before Morse resumed:

'You know, I'm beginning to wonder exactly who was having an affair with who.'

Lewis's eyebrows shot up yet again.

'All right! 'Whom', if you prefer it. Stratton and Shirley Brown go out together and everybody says 'tut-tut'. Agreed? And we all focus our attention on the potential scandal — completely ignoring a far more suggestive state of affairs. Brown and Laura Stratton are there right next to each other in Rooms 308 and 310. It's shenanigans between the sheets, Lewis! It's a crime passionnel! Stratton comes back in and catches Brown in the missionary position — and all this Wolvercote Tongue business is just a secondary blind.'

But Lewis would have nothing to do with such futile speculation: 'She was tired, sir. She'd be far more interested in a bath than. '

'. than in a bonk?'

'Well, people that age—'

'What? I've heard that sex can be very good for the over sixty-fives.'

'Only ten years for you to go, then.'

Morse grinned, though with little conviction. 'I'm sure of it, though. It's Love's Old Sweet Song — that must come into things somewhere. A woman dies. An art-work goes missing. An art- expert gets murdered. You following me, Lewis? There's a link — there's got to be a link. But for the present I can't—' He broke off, and looked at the three dates again. 'You realise, don't you, that those three would have been — what? — twenty-two, twenty-two, and twenty-six in 1944?' His eyes gleamed with what might have been taken for some inner illumination. 'What about all of them being stationed in or near Oxford?'

'What difference would that make, sir?'

Morse seemed not to know.

Picking up Aldrich's statement, Lewis rose to his feet. 'Shall I go and get Howard Brown?'

But again Morse's mind seemed to be tuned to another wave-length. 'Why did you say 'he'—indicating the statement—'he was a clever man?'