the most had been the same man, Kemp. In the first, he had been robbed of something on which he had set his heart; in the second he was robbed of his life. Why? — that is what I asked myself. Or rather that is not, in the first instance, what I asked myself, because I was driven to the view — incorrectly — that there could be no link between the two crimes.
'So let us come to Kemp himself. It is a commonplace in murder investigations that more may often be learned about the murderer from the victim than from any other source. Now what did we know of the victim, Dr. Kemp? He was a Keeper of Antiquities at the Ashmolean, a man somewhat flamboyant in dress and manner, not only a ladies' man but one of the most dedicated womanisers in the University; a man who patently, almost on first sight, appeared self-centred and self-seeking. Yet life had not gone all his way: far from it. The University had recognised Kemp for what he was: his promotion was slow; a full fellowship was withheld; no family; a very modest two-bedroomed flat in North Oxford; and, above all, a great personal tragedy. Two years ago he was involved in a dreadful crash on the western Ring Road in which his wife, who was sitting beside him in the passenger seat, received such serious injuries to the lower half of the body that for the rest of her life — a life which ended tragically last week — she was confined to a wheel-chair. But that was only the half of it. The driver of the other car was killed instantaneously — a Mrs. Mayo from California who was in England doing some research project on the novels of Anthony Trollope. The settlements of the dead woman's Accidental Death Benefit, and of the policy covering the 'passenger-liability' responsibility of the surviving driver a driver by the way almost completely unscathed — were finally settled. But the legal tangle surrounding 'culpability' was never really unravelled: no eye-witnesses, contradictory evidence on possible mechanical faults, discrepancies about the time recorded for the breathalyser test — these factors resulted in Kemp getting away comparatively lightly, being banned from driving for three years only, with what must have seemed to many the derisory fine of only four hundred pounds. What had really confused everyone was the fact that Kemp always carried a hip-flask of brandy in the car's glove compartment, and that he had given his wife — trapped by the legs beside him — several sips from this flask before the ambulance arrived; and had even drunk from it himself! Everyone who subsequently learned of this action condemned it as utterly stupid and irresponsible, but perhaps such criticism may be tempered by the fact that the man was in a deep state of shock. At least that was what he said in his own defence.
'But let me revert to the crimes committed last week. The crucial happening, whichever way we look at things, was the telephone call made by Kemp. I formed several theories about that call — all wrong, and I will say nothing about them. Kemp had reported to the group that he would be arriving in Oxford at 3 p.m. — and the simple truth is that he did arrive in Oxford at 3 p.m. And somebody knew about that telephone call, and met Kemp at the railway station, doubtless informing the taxi-driver who had been hired that he was no longer required.'
Janet Roscoe half opened her mouth as if she were contemplating breaking the ensuing silence. But it was Morse who did so, as he continued:
'A taxi, you see, would have been easily traceable, so a different plan was adopted. Someone went to a car- rental firm in North Oxford in the early afternoon and hired a Vauxhall Cavalier. There was only one real difficulty: after vehicle-licence, credit-worthiness, and so on, were formally checked, the firm required some reference to establish the bona fides of the client. But this difficulty was quickly and neatly overcome: the man who hired the car — a man, yes! — gave the telephone number of The Randolph, and as the firm's representative was dialling the number he casually mentioned that the Deputy Manageress of The Randolph could be immediately contacted on a certain extension. The call was put through, confirmation obtained, and the car handed over. You will appreciate of course that an accomplice was essential at this juncture, but not just someone prepared to perform a casual favour. No! Rather someone who was prepared to be an accomplice to murder. Now, I believe it to be true that before this tour — with one exception — none of you had known each other. That exception was Mr. Stratton and Mr. Brown, who had met in the Armed Forces. But at the time the car was being hired, Mr. Stratton was on his way to Didcot Railway Centre — of that fact there can be no doubt whatsoever. And Mr. Howard Brown' (Morse hesitated) 'has given a full and fairly satisfactory account of his own whereabouts that afternoon, an account which has since been substantially corroborated.' Lewis's eyebrows shot up involuntarily, but he trusted that no one had noticed.
'There were one or two other absentees that afternoon, weren't there? Mr. Ashenden for one.' The courier was staring hard at the patch of carpet between his feet. 'But he was up in Summertown for the whole of that afternoon with friends — as we've now checked.' (Lewis managed to keep his eyebrows still.) 'And then, of course, there's Mr. Aldrich.' Heads were swivelling completely round this time — to the back row where sat Phil Aldrich, nodding his head in gentle agreement, a wry smile on his long, lugubrious face. 'But Mr. Aldrich can't possibly have been our guilty party either, can he? He went up to London that day, and in fact was travelling on the same train as Stratton when the two of them arrived back in Oxford. Mr. Aldrich himself claims, and I am fully prepared to believe him, that he did not see Mr. Stratton on the train. But Mr. Stratton saw Mr. Aldrich; and so in an odd sort of way, even if we had no proof of Stratton being in Didcot, the pair of them quite unwittingly perhaps had given each other an utterly unshakeable alibi. And in addition we now know that Stratton was in Didcot most of that afternoon. You see, ladies and gentlemen, whatever happens in life, no person can ever be in two places at the same time, for the laws of the Universe forbid it. And the person perfecting his plans in Oxford, the person who had taken possession of the red Cavalier, that per-son had plenty to do, and precious little time in which to do it — to do it in Oxford. There is, perhaps, a brief additional point to be made. It occurred to me that if Stratton and Brown had known each other, so might their wives, perhaps. But one of these wives was already dead; and it was a man,' said Morse slowly, 'and not a woman, who hired the car that afternoon.
'Are we running out of suspects, then? Almost, I agree. Your tour started with only three married couples, did it not? And already we have eliminated two of these: the Strattons and the Browns.' In the tense silence which followed this remark, all eyes now turned upon the couple who had been fetched from their bedroom; the couple who had decided that any further diet of delightful architecture would have amounted to a sort of cultural force- feeding. But the pivoting glances which now fell full upon Sam and Vera Kronquist almost immediately reverted to Chief Inspector Morse as the latter rounded off his background summary.
'But Mr. Kronquist, as several of you already know, was assisting Mrs. Sheila Williams during most of the afternoon in question with the temperamental kaleidoscope allocated to her for her illustrated talk on 'Alice'. Now Mr. Kronquist may be a very clever man, but he is not permitted, either, to suspend the physical laws of the Universe. And you do see, don't you, that Mrs. Williams, too, must now be crossed off our list of suspects? And finally we shall cross the name of Cedric Downes off that same list, and for exactly the same reason. If anyone from the group here met Kemp at 3 p.m., it wasn't Downes, because nine or ten of you here will willingly testify to the incontrovertible fact that he was talking to you from that time onwards. Did I say running out of likely suspects? And yet, ladies and gentlemen, someone did meet Kemp at the railway station that afternoon.
'One of you did!'
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Either what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one piece, doth not light a candle, and sweep the house, and seek diligently till she find it?
(St Luke, ch. 15, v. 8)
THROUGHOUT THE MORNING on which Morse was addressing his audience in Bath, and stripping away the
