Colin Dexter - The Secret of Annexe 3

'When did you last see her?'

For the first time in the interview, Wilkins allowed himself a ghost of a smile, showing regular though nicotine-stained teeth, 'I saw her,' he looked at his wrist-watch, 'just over an hour ago. She was in the house when you called to bring me here.'

Morse closed his eyes momentarily in what looked like a twinge of intolerable pain; and Lewis began 'You mean. .?'

'She came about a quarter to six. She just said she didn't know what to do — she wanted help.'

'Did she want money?'

'No. Well, she didn't mention it. Not much good asking me for money, in any case — and she knew that.'

'Did she say where she was going?'

'Not really, but I think she'd been in touch with her sister.'

'She lives where?'

'Near Newcastle, I think.'

'You didn't tell her she could stay with you?'

'That would have been a mad thing to do, wouldn't it?'

'Do you think she's still in your house?'

'She'd be out of there like a bat out of hell immediately we'd gone.'

(Morse gestured to Sergeant Phillips, spoke a few words in his ear and dismissed him.)

'So you think she's off north somewhere?' continued Lewis.

'I don't know. I honestly don't know. I advised her to get on a boat or something and sail off to the continent — away from everything.'

'But she didn't take your advice?'

'No. She couldn't. She hadn't got a passport, and she was frightened of applying for one because she knew everybody was trying to find her.'

'Did she know that everybody was trying to find you , as well?'

'Of course she didn't! I don't know what you mean.'

'I'm sure you know why we've brought you here,' said Lewis, looking directly across into Wilkins's eyes.

'Really? I'm afraid you're wrong there.'

'Well she did know that everybody was looking for you. You see, Mr. Wilkins, she went back to her own house in Chipping Norton, at considerable risk to herself, to remove any incriminating evidence that she thought might be lying around. For example, she took the postcard you wrote to her from the Lake District.'

There was a sudden dramatic silence in the interview room, as though everybody there had taken a sharp intake of breath — and was holding it.

'It's my duty as a police officer,' continued Lewis, 'to tell you formally that you are under arrest for the murder of Thomas Bowman.'

Wilkins slumped back in his chair, his face ashen-pale and his upper lip trembling. 'You're making the most terrible mistake,' he said very quietly.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Tuesday, January 7th: P.M.

When angry, count four; when very angry, swear.

(MARK TWAIN)

'AM I DOING ALL RIGHT?' asked a slightly subdued Lewis as, five minutes after this preliminary interview, he sat in the canteen drinking coffee with Morse.

'Very good— very good,' said Morse. 'But we've got to tread a bit carefully from now on because we're getting to the point where we're not quite sure of the ground — by which I mean it's going to be difficult to prove one or two things. So let's just recap a minute. Let's go back to the beginning of things — Plan One, let's call it. Bowman follows his wife up to Diamond Close that day, and later he confronts her with the evidence. She's getting desperate anyway, and she goes along with the quite extraordinary plan he's concocted. As we've seen he fixes up the phoney address and books a New-Year-Package-for-Two at the Haworth Hotel. She tells Wilkins that her husband's gone off on a course and that they can spend all that time together; and he jumps at the chance. Once she's safely in her room, she rings Wilkins — we still haven't checked on that. Lewis — to give him the room number and soon she's giving him the happy hour between the sheets. Then they both get ready for the fancy dress — which she's already told Wilkins about, and which he's already agreed to. If he hadn't , Lewis, the plan couldn't have worked. At about seven o'clock she makes some excuse to go out, when she gives the key to Bowman himself, who's waiting somewhere near the annexe, and who's dressed up in exactly the same sort of garb as Wilkins. Now Wilkins is a stronger man, I suspect, than Bowman ever was, and I should think that Bowman wouldn't have taken any chance about letting the whole thing develop into a brawl — he's probably got a knife or a revolver or something. Then the deed is done, and the next part of the deception begins. They could disappear from the scene straight away, but they agree that's far too risky. Somebody's going to find the body immediately if they do, because the "Ballards" as they called themselves won't be there for the party. There's virtually no risk in their being recognized anyway: they're both in fancy dress for the rest of the evening-he's got his face blacked, she's wearing a veil; and the only time a busy receptionist had seen Margaret Bowman was when she'd been muffled up in a scarf and hood — with a pair of dark skiing glasses on, for all we know.'

Lewis nodded.

'That was the original plan — and it must have been very much as I've described it, Lewis; otherwise it's impossible to account for several facts in the case — for instance, the fact that Bowman wrote a letter to his wife that would give them both a reasonable alibi — if the worse came to the worst. It wasn't a bad plan, either — except in one vital respect. Bowman was beginning to know quite a bit about Wilkins, but he never quite knew enough . Above all, he didn't know that Wilkins was beginning to dominate his wife in an ever increasing way, and that she'd become so sexually and emotionally dependent on him that she came to realize, at some point, that it was her husband, Tom Bowman, she wanted out of her life for good — not her lover. Maybe Bowman had become so obsessed with this revenge idea of his that she saw, perhaps for the first time, what a crudely devious man he really was. But for whatever reason, we can know one thing for certain: she told Wilkins what they were planning . Now you don't need to be a genius — and I don't think Wilkins is a genius — to spot an almost incredible opportunity here: the plan can go ahead as Bowman had devised it — exactly so! — but only up to the point when Bowman would let himself into the room. This time it would be Wilkins who's waiting behind the door for Bowman with a bottle of whatever it was to smash down on the back of his head.'

'Front, sir,' murmured Lewis if only, for conscience' sake, to put the unofficial record straight.

'So that's what happened, Lewis; and it's Plan Two that's now in operation. After murdering Bowman, Wilkins is all ready to go along to the party in exactly the same outlandish clothes as the murdered man would be found in. The two men were roughly the same height and everybody is going to assume that the man in the Rastafarian rig-out at the party is the same as the man in the Rastafarian rig-out later found dead on the bed in Annexe 3. Almost certainly — and this is in fact what happened — the corpse isn't going to be found until pretty late the next day; and if the heating is turned off — as it was — and if the window's left half-open — as it was — then any cautious clown like Max is going to be even cagier than usual about giving any categorical ruling on the time of death, because of the unusual room temperature. I'm not sure, myself, that it wouldn't have been far more sensible to turn the radiator on full and close all the windows. But, be that as it may, Wilkins clearly wanted to give the impression that the murder had taken place as late as possible . Agreed?'

'I can't quite see why though, sir.'

'You will do, in due course. Have faith!'