The Secret of Annexe 3 (29 page)

That afternoon, Wilkins had been resignedly cooperative about every detail of the whole case – with the exception of the act of murder itself, which he stubbornly and categorically refused
to discuss in any respect whatsoever: it was as if that single, swift dispatch (to which he now confessed) had paralysed his capacity to accept it as in any way a piece of voluntary, responsible
behaviour. But for the rest, he spoke fully and freely; and there was nothing surprising, nothing new, that emerged from his statement. Naturally enough, perhaps, he expressed the hope that Winston
Grant should be treated with appropriate leniency, although it seemed to others (certainly to Lewis) that such an accomplice must have been rather more aware of the nature of his assignment than
either Grant or Wilkins was prepared to admit.

About Margaret Bowman, the only piece of new information Wilkins was able to give was that he had more than once picked her up from a beauty clinic in Oxford, and Lewis shook his head ruefully
as he learned that this clinic was the very first one he had rung – the one refusing to divulge any confidential details. About Margaret’s present fate Wilkins appeared strangely
indifferent. He hadn’t (he said) the faintest idea where she’d finally drifted off to; but presumably the police would be concentrating on her various relatives up around Alnwick or
Berwick or Newcastle or wherever they were. For his part, he was perhaps glad to get shot of the woman. She’d brought him nothing but trouble, although he fully accepted that it had been far
more his fault than hers that things had finally . . . But that was all over now. And in an odd sort of way (he’d said) he felt relieved.

It was just after 6.30 p.m. when Sergeant Phillips escorted Wilkins down to St Aldates where temporarily, together with Grant, he would be held, awaiting (in the short term) the provision of
alternative custodial arrangements and (in the long term) the pleasure of Her Majesty.

Morse insisted that both he himself and Lewis should call it a day; and Lewis was just closing the box-file on the Haworth Hotel case when he noticed a letter which he had
never been shown: one beginning ‘This is a love letter . . .’ He read the first few lines with some mystification – until he came to the quite extraordinary statement that the
anonymous correspondent had been ‘reading a biography of Thomas Hardy . . .’!

Should he tell Morse? He read the letter through again with the greatest interest.

Well, well, well!

At 7 p.m. Morse (Lewis thought he had gone) came back into his office once more. ‘Listen, Lewis! This Wilkins is one of the cleverest buggers we’ve ever had! You realize that?
He’s pulled the wool over my eyes about the most central, central, central issue of the lot! And you know what that is? That he, Wilkins, was – is! – hopelessly in love with this
woman, Margaret Bowman; and that he’d do anything –
did
do anything – to keep her. In fact, he murdered her husband to keep her! And likewise, Lewis, the fact that
he’d do anything to protect her
now
! You remember what he said last night? Just get the transcript, Lewis – the bit about the passport!’

Lewis found the document and read aloud:

‘God, I’m a fool, Lewis! I wonder how many lies he
has
told us? That she was at his house last night? That she was up with her sister in Newcastle? Has she
got
a
sister, Lewis? Oh dear! She hasn’t got a passport, he says? And we believe him! So we don’t watch all the boats—’

‘Or the planes,’ added Lewis quietly.

‘I don’t believe it!’ said Morse softly, after a pause.

‘What’s worrying you, sir?’

‘Get a telex off to Gatwick straight away! Get the passenger list of flight number whatever-it-was!’

‘You don’t think—?’

‘
Think?
I’m almost
sure
, Lewis!’

When Lewis returned from the telex office, Morse already had his greatcoat on and was ready to leave.

‘You know that letter you had from one of your admirers, sir?’

‘How do you know about that?’

‘You left it in the box.’

‘Oh!’

‘Did you notice the postmark on the original letter?’

‘London. So what?’

‘London? Really?’ (Lewis sounded like a man who knows all the answers.) ‘You get a lot of people going up to the London sales from all over the country, don’t you? I mean
anyone from anywhere – from Oxford, say – could go up to the January sales and drop a letter in a postbox outside Paddington.’

Morse was frowning. ‘What exactly are you trying to tell me, Lewis?’

‘I just wondered if you had any idea of who’d written that letter to you, that’s all.’

Morse’s hand was on the doorknob. ‘Look, Lewis! You know the difference between you and me, don’t you? You don’t use your
eyes
enough! If you
had
done
– and very recently, too! – you’d know perfectly well who wrote that letter.’

‘Yes?’

‘Yes! And it so happens – since you’re suddenly so very interested in my private affairs, Lewis – that I’m going to take the particular lady who wrote that
particular letter out for a particularly fine meal tonight – that’s if you’ve no objections?’

‘Where are you taking her, sir?’

‘If you must know, we’re going out to Springs Hotel near Wallingford.’

‘Pretty expensive, so they say, sir.’

‘We shall go halves – you realize that, of course?’ Morse winked happily at Lewis – and was gone.

Lewis, too, was smiling happily as he rang his wife and told her that he wouldn’t be long.

At 7.50 p.m. the telex reply came through from Gatwick: on the scheduled 12.05 flight that had left that morning for Barcelona, the passenger list had included, apart from a Mr
Edward Wilkins, a Mrs Margaret Bowman, the latter giving an address in Chipping Norton, Oxfordshire.

At 8.00 p.m., Lewis pulled on his overcoat and left Kidlington HQ. He wasn’t at all sure whether Morse would be pleased, or displeased, with the news he had just
received. But the last thing he was going to do was to ring Springs Hotel. He just hoped – very much he hoped – that Morse would have an enjoyable evening, and an enjoyable meal. As for
himself, the missus would have the egg and chips ready; and he felt very happy with life.

The author and publishers wish to thank the following who have kindly given permission for the use of copyright material:

George Allen & Unwin (Publishers) Ltd, for a quotation by Bertrand Russell.

Curtis Brown Group Ltd, London, on behalf of the Estate of Ogden Nash for a quotation by him.

Peter Champkin for an extract from his book
The Waking Life of Aspern Williams
.

Faber and Faber Ltd, for an extract from ‘La Figlia Che Piange’ in
Collected Poems
by T. S. Eliot.

A. M. Heath & Company Ltd, on behalf of the Estate of the late Sonia Brownell Orwell for an extract from
Shooting an Elephant
by George Orwell, published by Secker & Warburg
Ltd.

Henry Holt & Company Inc, for a quotation by Robert Frost.

A. D. Peters & Company and Jonathan Cape Ltd, on behalf of the Executors of the Estate of C. Day Lewis, for an extract from ‘Departure in the Dark’ in
Collected Poems
,
1954, published by the Hogarth Press.

The Society of Authors on behalf of the Bernard Shaw Estate for a quotation by Bernard Shaw.

A. P. Watt Ltd, on behalf of
The National Trust for Places of Historic Interest or Natural Beauty
, for an extract by Rudyard Kipling from
The Thousandth Man
.

Every effort has been made to trace all the copyright holders but if any have been inadvertently overlooked the publishers will be pleased to make the necessary arrangement at
the first opportunity.

Praise for

Colin Dexter’s Inspector Morse Mysteries

‘No one constructs a whodunit with more fiendish skill than Colin Dexter’

Guardian

‘Traditional crime writing at its best; the kind of book without which no armchair is complete’

Sunday Times

‘A character who will undoubtedly retain his place as one of the most popular and enduring of fictional detectives’

P. D. James,
Sunday Telegraph

‘Dexter has created a giant among fictional detectives’

The Times

‘The writing is highly intelligent, the atmosphere melancholy, the effect haunting’

Daily Telegraph

‘Colin Dexter is the crime writer of perfect pitch and perfect pace’

Jonathan Gash

‘What construction! What skill! Why isn’t this author ever on the Booker shortlist?’

Beryl Bainbridge

‘[Morse is] the most prickly, conceited and genuinely brilliant detective since Hercule Poirot’

New York Times Book Review

‘Colin Dexter’s superior crime-craft is enough to make lesser practitioners sick with envy’

Oxford Times

‘The triumph is the character of Morse’

Times Literary Supplement

‘Superb entertainment indeed’

Yorkshire Evening Press

THE SECRET OF ANNEXE 3

C
OLIN
D
EXTER
graduated from Cambridge University in 1953 and has lived in Oxford since 1966. His first novel,
Last Bus to
Woodstock
, was published in 1975. There are now thirteen novels in the series, of which
The Remorseful Day
is, sadly, the last.

Colin Dexter has won many awards for his novels, including the CWA Silver Dagger twice, and the CWA Gold Dagger for
The Wench Is Dead
and
The Way Through the Woods
. In 1997 he
was presented with the CWA Diamond Dagger for outstanding services to crime literature, and in 2000 was awarded the OBE in the Queen’s Birthday Honours List.

The Inspector Morse novels have been adapted for the small screen with huge success by Carlton/Central Television, starring John Thaw and Kevin Whately. Spin-offs from Dexter’s much-loved
novels also include the popular series,
Lewis
, featuring Morse’s former sergeant, Robbie Lewis, and
Endeavour
, a prequel starring the young Endeavour Morse.

Colin Dexter’s Inspector Morse Mysteries

Last Bus to Woodstock

Last Seen Wearing

The Silent World of Nicholas Quinn

Service of All the Dead

The Dead of Jericho

The Riddle of the Third Mile

The Secret of Annexe 3

The Wench Is Dead

The Jewel that Was Ours

The Way Through the Woods

The Daughters of Cain

Death Is Now My Neighbour

The Remorseful Day

Also available in Pan Books

Morse’s Greatest Mystery and Other Stories

First published 1986 by Macmillan

First published in paperback 1987 by Pan Books

This electronic edition published 2016 by Pan Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com

ISBN 978-0-330-46882-4

Copyright © Colin Dexter 1986

Cover Images © Stuart Brill/Millennium Images, UK

The right of Colin Dexter to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Pan Macmillan does not have any control over, or any responsibility for, any author or third-party websites referred to in or on this book.

You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital,
optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be
liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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