Inspector Morse 11 The Daughters of Cain

"Not done your snooker much harm, Ted,"

"No. Back at work in a fortnight, so the doc says. With a bit o' luck."

Chapter Twenty-five

The older I grow, the more I distrust the familiar doctrine that age brings wisdom (H. L. MENCKEN)

As Morse had expected, Lewis was already sitting waiting for him outside the museum. "How did things go, sir?"

"All right."

"Learn anything new.9"

"Wouldn't go quite so far as that. What about you?"

"Interesting. That woman, well---she's a sort of major-domo Amazonian type, sir. I wouldn't like her as Chief Constable."

"Give it five years, Lewis."

"Anyway, it's about Matthew Rodway. In the autumn term--"

"We call it the Michaelmas Term here, Lewis."

"In the Michaelmas Term, in his third year, when he was back in college again--"

"In the House."

"In the House again, he was sharing rooms with another fellow---"

"Another undergraduate."

"Another undergraduate called Ashley Davies. But not for long, it seems. Davies got himself temporarily booted out of college--"

"Rusticated."

"Rusticated that term. Some sort of personal trouble, she said, but didn't want to go into it. Said we should see Da-vies tbr ourselves, really."

"Like me, then, you didn't learn very much."

"Ah! Just a minute, sir," smiled Lewis. "Mr. Ashley Da-vies, our undergraduate, in the Michaelmas Term 1993, was rusticated from the House on e sayso of one Dr. Felix Mc Clure, former Student--capital 'S,' sir--of Wolsey Col-lege.'

'°The plot thickens."

"Bad blood, perhaps, sir? Ruined his chances, cer-tainly--Davies was expected to get a First, she'd heard.

And he didn't return this year, either. Murky circum stances ... Drugs, do you think?"

"Or booze,"

"Or love."

"Well?"

"I've got his address. Living with his parents in Bed-ford."

"Did any good thing ever come out of Bedford?"

"John Bunyan, sir?"

"You go and see him, then. I can't do everything myself."

"What's wrong?" asked Lewis quietly.

"I dunno. My chest's sore. My legs ache. My bead's throbbing. I feel sick. I feel sweaty. It's the wrong question, isn't it? You mean, what's right?"

"Have you had your pills.9"

"Course I have. Somebody's got to keep fit."

"When were you last fit, sir?"

Morse pulled the safety-belt across him and fumbled for a few seconds to fix the tongue into the buckle. "I don't ever remember feeling really fit."

"I'm sure you'll blast my head off, sir, but--"

"I ought not to drink so much."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you'd just washed your pills down with a pint."

"Would you be surprised if you were quite wrong about that?"

"Washed 'em down with two pints, you mean?"

Morse smiled and wiped his forehead with a ortwh handkerchief.

"You know the difference between us, sir--betveen y and me T'

'Fell me."

"I got married, and so I've got a missus who' alw tried to look after me."

"You're lucky, though. Most people your age are vorced by now."

"You never--never met a woman---you know, the ri woman?"

Morse's eyes seemed focused far away. "Nearly, Nero once."

"Plenty of time."

"Nonsense! You don't start things at my age. ¥u p 'em up. Like the job, Lewis." Morse hesitated. "L%k' I not told anybody yet--well, only Strange. I'm Packing the job next autumn."

Lewis smiled sadly. "Next Michaelmas, isn't it?,, "I could stay on another couple of years after tl but..."

"Won't you miss things?"

"Course I bloody won't. I've been very lucky-at le in that respect. But I don't want to push the luck to fa mean, we might get put on to a case we can't crck.,, "Not this one, I hope?"

"Oh no, Lewis, not this one."

"What's the programme---?"

But Morse interrupted him: "You just asked the if ] miss things and I shan't, no. Only one thing, I Sttlpose shall miss you, old friend, that's all."

He had spoken simply, almost awkwardly, and fqr a lil while Lewis hardly trusted himself to look up. SOhewh behind his eyes he felt a slight prickling; anti son where in his heart, perhaps--he felt a sadness he cot barely comprehend.

"Not getting very far sitting here, Lewis, are we? Wha the programme?

'°That's what I just asked you."

"Well, there's this fellow from Bedford, you say?"

"Former undergraduate, sir."

"Yes, well--is he at home?"

"Dunno. I can soon find out."

"Do that, then. See hira."

"When--T' "What's wrong with now? The way you drive you'll be back by teatime."

"Don't you want to see him?"

Morse hesitated. "No. There's something much more im portant for me to do this afternoon."

"Go to bed, you mean?"

Slowly, resignedly, Morse nodded. "And try to fix some-thing up with Brooks. Time we paid him a little visit, isn't it T'

"Monday?"

"What's wrong with tomorrow? That'll be exactly a week after he murdered Mc Clure, won't it?"

Chapter Twenty-six

Three may keep a secret if two of them are dead (BEJ^N Brenda Brooks was in a state of considerable agitation when she went through into the kitchen to put the kettle on.