Colin Dexter - Last Seen Wearing

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

To you, Lord Governor, Remains the censure of this hellish villain—

The time, the place, the torture. O enforce it!

(Shakespeare, Othello, Act V)

LEWIS WAS SITTING up in his dressing-gown in the front room when Morse returned at a quarter to three.

'Start next Monday, sir — Sunday if you want me — and I can't tell you how glad I am.'

'It'll all be over then with a bit of luck,' said Morse. 'Still we may have another homicidal lunatic roaming the streets before then, eh?'

'You really think this is nearly finished, sir?'

'I saw Strange this morning. We're going ahead tomorrow. Bring in both the Taylors and then start digging up all the rubbish dump — if we have to; though I think George will co-operate, even if his wife doesn't.'

'And you think it all links up with Baines's murder?'

Morse nodded. 'You were asking this morning about Baines writing that letter, and the truth is I don't quite know yet. It could have been to put the police off the scent, or to put them on — take your pick. But I feel fairly sure that one way or another it would keep his little pot boiling.'

'I don't quite follow you, sir.'

Morse told him of Baines's financial position, and Lewis whistled softly. 'He really was a blackmailer, then?'

'He was certainly getting money from somewhere, probably from more than one source.'

'Phillipson, for sure, I should think.'

'Yes. I think Phillipson had to fork out a regular monthly payment; not all that much perhaps, certainly not a ruinous sum for a man in Phillipson's position. Let's say twenty, thirty pounds a month. I don't know. But I shall know soon. There can be little doubt that Baines saw him the night he was going back home after his interview, saw him with a bit of stuff — more than likely Valerie Taylor. He could have ruined Phillipson's position straight away, of course, but that doesn't seem to have been the way that Baines's warped and devious mind would usually work. It gave him power to keep the intelligence to himself — to himself, that is, and to Phillipson.'

'He had as good a reason as anybody for killing Baines, didn't he?'

'He had, indeed. But he didn't kill Baines.'

'You sound pretty sure of yourself, sir.'

'Yes I am sure,' said Morse quietly. 'Let's just go on a bit I think there was another member of staff Baines had been blackmailing.'

'You mean Acum?'

'Yes, Acum. It seemed odd to me from the start that he should leave a fairly promising situation in the modern languages department here at the Roger Bacon, and take up a very similar position in a very similar school right up in the wilds of North Wales — away from his friends and family and the agreeable life of a university town like Oxford. I think that there must have been a little flurry of a minor scandal earlier in the year that Acum left. I asked him about it when I saw him yesterday, but he wouldn't have any of it. It doesn't matter much, though, and Phillipson will have to come clean anyway.'

'What do you think happened?'

'Oh, the usual thing. Somebody caught him with one of the girls with his trousers down.'

Lewis leaned his head to one side and smiled rather wearily. 'I suppose you think it may have been Valerie Taylor, sir?'

'Why not?' said Morse. 'She seems to have made most of the men put their hands on their cocks at some time, doesn't she? I should think that Phillipson got to know and Baines, too — oh yes, I'm sure Baines got to know — and they got together and agreed to hush things up if Acum would agree to leave as soon as it was practicable to do so. And I shouldn't think that Acum had any option. He'd be asked to leave whatever happened, and his wife would probably find out and — well, it would have seemed like the end of the world to a young fellow like Acum.'

'And you think Baines had the bite on Acum?'

'Pretty certain of it I should think that Acum' (Morse chose his words carefully) '—judging from the little I've seen of his wife — would have been a bloody fool to have ruined his career just for the sake of a brief infatuation with one of his pupils. And he didn't. He played the game and cleared out.'

'And paid up.'

'Yes. He paid up, though I shouldn't think Baines was stupid enough to expect too much from a former colleague who was probably fairly hard up anyway. Just enough, though. Just enough for Baines to relish another little show of power over one of his fellow human beings.'

'I suppose you're going to tell me next that Baines had the bite on the Taylors as well.'

'No. Just the opposite, in fact I reckon that Baines was paying money to Mrs. Taylor.'

Lewis sat up. Had he heard aright? 'You mean Mrs. Taylor was blackmailing Baines?'

'I didn't say that, did I? Let's go back a bit. We've agreed that Baines got to know about Phillipson's little peccadillo at the Station Hotel. Now I can't imagine that Baines would merely be content with the Phillipson angle. I think that he began to grub around on the Taylor side of the fence. Now, Lewis. What did he find? You remember that George Taylor was out of work at the time, and that far from being a potential source of blackmail the Taylors were in dire need of money themselves. And especially Mrs. Taylor. Baines had met them several times at parents' evenings, and I should guess that he arranged to see Mrs. Taylor privately, and that he pretty soon read the temperature of the water correctly.'

'But Baines wasn't the type of man who went around doing favours.'

'Oh no. The whole thing suited Baines splendidly.'

'But he gave her money, you think?'

'Yes.'

'But she wouldn't take his money just like that, would she? I mean. . she wouldn't expect. .'

'Wouldn't expect to get the money for nothing? Oh no. She had something to give him in return.'

'What was that?'

'What the hell do you think it was? You weren't born yesterday, were you?'

Lewis felt abashed. 'Oh, I see,' he said quietly.

'Once a week in term time, if you want me to keep guessing, Tuesdays, likely as not, when he had the afternoon off. Tuesday afternoons, Lewis. Do you see what that means?'

'You mean,' stammered Lewis, 'that Baines probably. . probably. .'

'Probably knew more about the fate of Valerie Taylor than we thought, yes. I should think that Baines would park somewhere near the Taylors' house — not too near — and wait until Valerie had gone off back to school. Then he'd go in, get his pound of flesh, pay his stamp duty—'

'Bit dangerous, wasn't it?'

'If you're a bachelor like Baines and you're dying to spill your oats — well. . After all, no one would know what was going on. Lock the door and—'

Lewis interrupted him. 'But if they'd arranged to meet the day that Valerie disappeared, it would have been crazy for Mrs. Taylor to have murdered her daughter.'

'It was crazy anyway. I don't think she would have worried too much if the police force was out the front and the fire brigade was out the back. Listen. What I think may have happened on that Tuesday is this. Baines parked pretty near the house, probably in a bit of waste land near the shops, just above the Taylors' place. He waited until afternoon school had started, and then he saw something very odd. He saw Valerie, or who he thought was Valerie, leave by the front door and run down the road. Then he went up to the house and knocked — we didn't find a key, did we? — and he got no answer. It's all a bit odd. Has his reluctant mistress — well, let's hope she was reluctant — has she slipped out for a minute? He can almost swear she hasn't, but he can't be absolutely sure. He walks back, frustrated and disappointed, and scratches his balls in the car; and something tells him to wait. And about ten minutes later he sees Mrs. Taylor walking — probably walking in a great hurry — out of one of the side streets and going into the house. Has she been out over the lunchtime? Unusual, to say the least. But there's something odder still — far odder. Something that makes him sit up with a vengeance. Valerie — he would remember now — had left with a basket; and here is Valerie's mother returning with the very same basket. Does he guess the truth? I don't know. Does he go to the house again and knock? Probably so. And I would guess she told him she couldn't possibly see him that afternoon. So Baines walks away, and drives home, and wonders. . Wonders even harder the next day when he hears of Valerie's disappearance.'