The Wench Is Dead

Suddenly Morse was conscious of the tingling excitement in the nape of his neck, and then in his shoulders. His eyes dilated and sparkled as if some i

What, he wondered, was the routine in the Irish Republic for exhumation'?

Chapter Thirty-two

Oh what a tangled web we weave When first we practise to deceive!

(Sir Walter Scott, Marmion)

'You what? asked a flabbergasted Lewis, who had called round at 7.30 p.m. ('Not till The Archers has finished' had been his strict instruction.) He himself had made an interesting little discovery – well, the WPC in St Aldates' had made it, really – and he was hoping that it might amuse Morse in his wholly inconsequential game of 'Find Joa

'You see, Lewis' (Morse was straightway in full swing) 'this is one of the most beautiful little deceptions we've ever come across. The problems inherent in the case – almost all of them – are resolved immediately once we take one further step into imaginative improbability.'

'You've lost me already, sir,' protested Lewis.

'No, I haven't! Just take one more step yourself. You think you're in the dark? Right? But the dark is where we all are. The dark is where I was, until I took one more step into the dark. And then, when I'd taken it, I found myself in the sunshine,'

'I'm very glad to hear it,' mumbled Lewis.

'It's like this. Once I read that story, I was uneasy about it – doubtful, uncomfortable. It was the identification bit that worried me – and it would have worried any officer in the Force today, you know that! But, more significantly, if we consider the psychology of the whole-'

'Sir!' (It was almost unprecedented for Lewis to interrupt the Chief in such peremptory fashion.)

'Could we – could you – please forget all this psychological referencing? I just about get my fill of it all from some of these Social Services people. Could you just tell me, simply and-'

'I'm boring you – is that what you're saying?'

'Exactly what I'm saying, sir.'

Morse nodded to himself happily. 'Let's put it simply. then, all right? I read a story in hospital. I get interested. I think – think – the wrong people got arrested, and some of 'em hanged, for the murder of that little tart from Liverpool. As I say, I thought the identification of that lady was a bit questionable; and when I read the words the boatmen were alleged to have used about her – well, I knew there must be something fundamentally wrong. You see-'

'You said you'd get to the point, sir.'

'I thought that Joa

'Sir!'

Morse held up his right hand. 'Joa

Lewis, now interested despite himself, nodded a vague concurrence of thought. 'So what you're saying, sir, is that Joa

'Yes! But not only that. Listen! I may just be wrong, Lewis, but I think that not only was Joa

'Phew!'

'A man of many parts: he was an actor, he was a conjurer, he was an impersonator, he was a swindler, he was a cu

Chapter Thirty-three

Stet Difficilior Lectio

(Let the more difficult of the readings stand)

(The principle applied commonly by editors faced with variant readings in ancient manuscripts)

Lewis was silent. How else? He had a precious little piece of evidence in his pocket, but while Morse's mind was still coursing through the upper atmosphere, there was little point in interrupting again for the minute. He put the envelope containing the single photocopied sheet on the coffee-table – and listened further.

'In the account of Joa

'And his daughter,' mumbled Lewis, inaudibly.