Colin Dexter - Last Bus To Woodstock

'Why did he write at all, sir? Why not just ring?'

'Yes. I'm coming to that. But first let's be absolutely certain about the fact of the matter — and the fact is that Crowther did write to Jennifer Coleby. For if we fully recognize the significance of that, we can begin to answer the perfectly valid question you raise. Why not ring her? Why not? The answer is fairly straightforward, I think. Who was he to ring, and where? Let's assume for the minute that he wants to ring up Jennifer — the faithful messenger girl. At work? No. It was too dangerous. All the girls in the office knew Palmer's views on using his company's phones, and they played it fair because he turned a blind eye to personal correspondence coming in. But more than that. It was also far too dangerous, because all incoming telephone calls — except to the private phone in Palmer's office, which his personal secretary handled — came through the switchboard; and as you well know anyone on the switchboard can listen in with complete impunity to whatever's being said. No. That was out. Well? Why not ring Sue Widdowson herself? Why not ring his mistress and speak to her direct, either at her home or at the hospital? Again it's not difficult to see why he didn't. If he rang Sue up at home, he could never be sure that the other two weren't there, could he? He could risk Jennifer, but not Mary. He must have felt pretty certain — and I'm sure he was right — that listening in, even to a one-sided telephone call, is a temptingly easy and interesting pastime.'

After politely knocking on Morse's door, the young girl with the office correspondence entered brightly and placed the inspector's morning mail into his in-tray.

'Not a very nice day, sir.'

'No,' said Morse.

'It'll probably clear up later.' She gave him a warm and pleasant smile as she left, and Morse nodded in a kindly way. It was some vague consolation to know that life was still going on around him. He stared absently out of the window and noticed that the rain had slackened. Perhaps she was right. It would probably clear up later. .

'But why couldn't he ring her at work, sir?'

'Ah yes. I'm sorry, Lewis. Why couldn't he ring her at work, you say? I found the answer to that only last Friday. It is virtually impossible for any outsider, even for the police, to get into direct contact with any of the nursing staff at the Radcliffe. I tried it myself, and you might as well ask directory enquiries for a number if you haven't got the address. There's an old battle-axe of a matron there. .'

'Couldn't Crowther have written to her, though? Surely. .'

'He could, yes. And I don't know why he didn't really, except. . You see, Lewis, he'd got into this routine with Sue Widdowson. Let me try to explain how it must have started. As you know, the post gets worse and worse everywhere. But in North Oxford it seems it's particularly bad. It seldom arrives before ten in the morning — far too late for anyone to receive a letter before setting off for work. And even if it arrived early, say at eight, it would still not be in time. Why not write to her at the hospital, then? The answer is that our dear Matron puts her foot down there as well; she positively forbids all private mail being accepted in the hospital.'

'But if Crowther had posted a letter to her home address, she would have got it as soon as she came back from work, wouldn't she?'

'Yes, you're right. But you put your finger right on the central difficulty, and this is why I should think Jennifer Coleby was brought into the picture in the first place. Bernard Crowther, you see, like most of these University fellows, didn't work any regular hours at Lonsdale College. Something would always be cropping up at odd times — disciplinary matters, unexpected visitors, unscheduled meetings — and he could never plan his extra-marital escapades with any more than the hopeful anticipation that he might be free at any particular time in the days ahead. But much more important than this, he had to keep a very careful eye on the day-to-day comings and goings of his own family. Margaret might arrange something, the children might get a half-day holiday out of the blue, or be ill or — well, here, too, there was plenty that could go wrong and mess up the best-laid plans completely. So it seems to me that Crowther often didn't know for certain until the day itself, even perhaps until a few hours beforehand, if and when and where he was going to be free to meet his mistress. But, Lewis, Lonsdale College is no more than a hundred yards or so from the premises of the Town and Gown Assurance office in the High.'

'You mean Crowther just walked along and drop a note in?'

'He did just that.'

'But Jennifer wouldn't be able to contact Sue during the day either, would she? You just said. .'

'I know what you're going to say. He might just as well have written to Sue's home address. She wouldn't get the message any earlier, because the letter would be lying on the door-mat when she got in. In fact she'd almost certainly get it later. But all this is assuming that Crowther could write the day before to arrange a meeting, and as I say I suspect that he very often couldn't. But there's another much more important point, Lewis. You say that Jennifer couldn't contact Sue during the day. But she could, and she often did . The two of them met fairly regularly for a snack at lunchtime. They met in a little cafe next to M and S. I know that, Lewis. I've been there.' Morse intoned the last words in a melancholy, mechanical way, and Lewis looked at him curiously. There was something that Morse had said a few minutes ago. It was almost as if. .

'Jennifer Coleby must have known all about it then, sir.'

'I don't know about all . She knew enough, though. Too much. I suppose. .' He lapsed into silence for a few moments, but when he resumed there was more spring and spirit in his voice. 'I don't know how it started, but at some stage they must have told each other about themselves. They tell me that women, and men, too, for that matter, enjoy talking to someone else about their conquests; and some chance remark probably brought the two of them together, and a bond of conspiracy was soon forged. I think there can be no doubt about that. I suspect it was Crowther, perhaps after a couple of misunderstandings and disappointments over meetings with Sue, who suggested the idea of dropping some harmless-looking note addressed to Jennifer Coleby into the letter-box of Town and Gown. I'm pretty sure he had the sort of mind that enjoyed the idea of cryptic messages, and the practice grew and this became their normal channel of communication. He would stroll past and put a letter or a postcard through the front door of the office. Simple — not even out of his way. It probably only happened at first when an unexpected opportunity arose, but as time went on it became the normal practice, so normal that he even followed it for his last and crucial message to her. And quite apart from being a neat and extremely useful device, it must have seemed a godsend to Crowther not to have to write any actual letters as such to Sue. Like most people in such illicit affairs he must have had a dread of a letter going astray, being opened by the wrong person, or being found somewhere. No one could learn very much his way, could he, even if he did find the letters?'

'When did you first think it was Miss Widdowson, sir?' Lewis asked his question with an unwonted gentleness, for at last he had begun to understand.

Morse stared wearily and sadly at the desk in front of him, the fingers of the left hand drumming nervously on the surface. 'I suppose there were the vaguest hints — oh, I don't know. But I wasn't certain until last Friday. Perhaps the first time I began to suspect the truth was when I checked the evening-class register for Margaret Crowther's attendance record. I happened to notice, purely by accident really, that by some divine mischance Palmer's wife was a member of the same class. And it made me wonder; it made me wonder a lot. I thought it most improbable that Jennifer Coleby was the sort of person to grant a lot of favours without getting some in return; and I pondered on the bond that must exist between her and the other girl. In a roundabout way I considered the possibility of both girls being in similar circumstances, in the same sort of relationship with other people. With men. And so I did a lot of guessing, and I thought of Crowther with somebody and Jennifer with somebody; and then Palmer fitting in somewhere perhaps? And then. . Well, and then I thought of Sue Widdowson, and suddenly the pieces began to click together. Could Jennifer be having an affair with Palmer? So often in this sort of situation it's someone you meet at work; and who was there at Town and Gown but Palmer? He was the only man on the premises. I kept wondering what it was that Jennifer was getting out of the bargain. And it suddenly struck me that there was one thing that she would want above all. Do you know what that was, Lewis?'