Inspector Morse 11 The Daughters of Cain

"You'd tried to do the same yourself, though, so you said?"

"I know, yes."

"You were just jealous, I suppose?

"It was more than that. It's difficult to explain."

"You mean, perhaps, if she'd been in your bed...?"

"I don't know. You'd have to ask Freud. Anyway, 1 went berserk. I just went for him, that's ail. He'd got nothing on--neither of 'em had--and soon we were wrestling and punching each other and knocking everything all over the bloody place, and there must have been one helluva racket because there was this great banging on the door and, well, we quietened down and I opened the door and there there he was: that stuffed prick Mc Clure. Well, that's about it, re-ally.

Mattbew'd got a cut on his mouth and one of his eyes was badly bruised; I'd got a gash on my left arm but... no great damage, not considering. Mc Clure wanted to all about it, of course: who the girl was--"

"Who was she?"

"She called herself Ellie--Ellie Smith."

"Then?"

"Well, they put me in one of the guest rooms in Quad, and Ellie went off--I think Mc Clure put her i taxi---and that was that. The Senior Tutor sent for me next morning, and you know the rest."

"Why didn't Mr. Rodway get rusticated, too?"

"Well, I'd started it. My fault, wasn't it?"

"Wasn't he disciplined at all?"

"Warned, yes. You get a warning in things like t Then, if it happens again..."

Lewis thought he was beginning to get the picture. perhaps you'd already had a warning yourself, sir?" asked quietly.

Unblinking, the thickset Davies looked for several onds into Lewis's eyes before nodding. "I'd had a figh a pub in my first year."

"Much damage done then*."

"He broke his jaw."

"Don't you mean you broke his jaw, sir?"

It was a pleasant little rejoinder, and perhaps Da' should have smilex L But Lewis saw no humour, only wha thought may have been a hint of cruelty, in the yo man's eyes.

"You've got it, Sergeant."

"Was that over a woman as well?

"Yeah, 'fraid so. There was this other guy and he k you know, messing around a bit with this girl of mine "Which pub was that?"

"The Grapesin George Street. I think this guy thor it was called The Gropes."

"And you hit him."

"Yeah. I'd told him to fuck off."

"And he hadn't."

"Not straightaway, no."

"But later he wished he had."

"You could say that."

"How did it get reported?"

"The landlord called the police. Bit unlucky, really. Wasn't all that much of a fight at all."

Lewis consulted his notes. "Yon wouldn't say you 'went berserk' on that occasion?'

"NO."

"Why do you reckon you got so violent with Mr. Rodway, then?"

Davies stared awhile at the carpet, then answered, though without looking up. "It's simple, really. I was in love with bet."

"And so was Mr. Rodway?" Davies nodded. "Yeah."

"Have you seen her since?"

"A few times."

"Recently?"

"No."

"Can you tell me why you didn't go back to Oxford--to finish your degree? You were only rusticated for a term, weren't yon?"

"Rest of the Michaelmas and all the Hilary. And by the time I was back, what with Finals and everything... I just couldn't face it."

"How did your parents feel about that.'?"

"Disappointed, naturally."

"Have you told them why I'm here today?"

'l'hey're on a cruise in the Aegean."

"I see." Lewis stood up and closed his notebook and walked over to the window, enviously admiring the white Porsche that stood in the drive. 'Fhey've left you the car, I see T'

"No, that's mine."

Lewis turned. "I thought you--well, you gave me the impression, sir, that fifty pounds might be a bit on the ex-pensive si'de.... "

"I came into some money. That's perhaps another reason I didn't go back to Oxford. Rich aunt, bless her! She left me... well, more than enough, let's say."

Lewis asked a f'mal question as the two men stood in the front porch: "Where were you last Sunday, sir?"

"Last Sunday?

"Yes. The day Dr. Mc Clure was murdered."

"Oh dear! You're not going to tell me...? What pos-sible reason could I have "

"I suppose you could say it was because of Dr. Mc Clure that..."

"That they kicked me out? Yes."

"You must have hated him for that."

"No. You couldn't really hate him. He was just an offi-cious bloody bore, that's all."

"Did you know that he fell in love with Ellie Smith, too T'

Davies sighed deeply. "Yes."

"Last Sunday, then?" repeated Lewis. "I went bird-watching."

"On your own?"

"Yes. I went out--must've been about nine, half-nine? Got back about three."

"Whereabouts did you go?"

Davies mentioned a few names--woods or lakes, as Lewis assumed.

"Meet anyone you knew?

"bio."

"Pub? Did you call at a pub? Hotel7 Snackbar? Shop? Garage T"

"No, don't think so."

"Must have been quite a lot of other bird-watchers around?"

"No. It's not the best time of year for bird-watching. Too many leaves still on the trees in late summer. Unless you know a bit about flight, song, habitat--well, you're not going to spot much, are you? Do you know anything about bird-watching, Sergeant?"

"No."

As Lewis left, he noticed the RSPB sticker on the rear win-dow of a car he would have given quite a lot to drive. Per-haps not so much as fifty pounds, though.

Chapter Twenty-eight