Death is Now My Neighbour
'Dexter
...
has created a giant among fictional detectives and has never short-changed his readers.'
The Times
The Daughters of Cain
'This is Colin Dexter at his most excitingly devious.'
Daily Telegraph
The Way Through the Woods
'Morse and his faithful Watson, Sergeant Lewis, in supreme form
...
Hallelujah.'
Observer
The Jewel That Was Ours
'Traditional crime writing at its best; the kind of book without which no armchair is complete.'
Sunday Times
The Wench is Dead
'Dextrously ingenious.'
Guardian
The Secret of Annexe
3
'A plot of classical cunning and intricacy.'
Times Literary Supplement
The Riddle of the Third Mile
'Runs the gamut of brain-racking unputdownability.'
Observer
The Dead of Jericho
'The writing is highly intelligent, the atmosphere melancholy, the effect haunting.'
Daily Telegraph
Service of All the Dead
'A brilliantly plotted detective story.'
Evening Standard
The Silent World of Nicholas Quinn
'Morse's superman status is reinforced by an ending which no ordinary mortal could have possibly unravelled.'
Financial Times
Last Seen Wearing
'Brilliant characterisation in original whodunnit.'
Sunday Telegraph
Last Bus to Woodstock
'Let those who lament the decline of the English detective story reach for Colin Dexter.'
Guardian
Colin Dexter graduated from Cambridge University in 1953 and has lived in Oxford since 1966.
Death is Now My Neighbour
is his twelfth Inspector Morse novel, following most recen
tl
y
The Daughters of Cain, The Way Through the Woods
and
The Jewel That Was Ours.
The Way Through the Woods
and
The Wench is Dead
were awarded Gold Daggers by the Crime Writers' Association for best crime novel of the year, and Colin Dexter has also been awarded Silver Daggers for
Service of All the Dead
and
The Dead of Jericho.
The Inspector Morse novels have been adapted for the small screen, with huge success, in Carlton/Central Television's series starring John Thaw and Kevin Whately. In 1993 Colin Dexter achieved a long-held ambition - a speaking part (two words) in the seventh
Inspector Morse
series.
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 Th
ird Mile
The Secret of Annexe 3
The Wench is Dead
The Jewel That Was Ours
The Way Through the Woods
The Daughters of Cain
Morse's Greatest Mystery and other stories
PAN BOOKS
First published 1996
ISBN: 0330 36785 4
Copyright© 1996 Colin Dexter
Joan Templeton with gratitude
The author and publishers wish to thank the following who have kindly given permission for use of copyright materials:
Extract from
The Dance
by Philip Larkin reproduced by permission of Faber
8c
Faber Ltd;
Extract from the
News of the World
reproduced by permission of the
News of the World;
Extract from Fowler's
Modern English Usage
reproduced by permission of Oxford University Press;
Ace Reporter
by Helen Peacocke reproduced by kind permission of the author;
Extract from
Major Barbara
by Bernard Shaw reproduced by permission of The Society of Authors on behalf of the Bernard Shaw Estate;
Extract from
The Brontes
by Juliet Barker reproduced by permission of Weidenfeld and Nicolson; Extract from
The Dry Salvages
by
‘I
. S. Eliot reproduced by permission of Faber & Faber Ltd; Extract from
Summoned
by
Bells
by John Betjeman reproduced by permission of John Murray (Publishers) Ltd; Extract from
Aubade
by Philip Larkin reproduced by permission of Faber & Faber Ltd;
Extract from
May-Day Song for North Oxford
by John
Betjeman, from
Collected Poems of John Betjeman,
reproduced by permission of John Murray (Publishers) Ltd; Extract from
This Be the Verse
by Philip Larkin reproduced by permission of Faber & Faber Ltd; Extract by Philip Larkin on p. 345 reproduced by permission of Faber & Faber Ltd.
Every effort has been made to trace all copyright holders but if any has been inadvertently overlooked, the author and publishers will be pleased to make the necessary arrangement at
the
first opportunity.
Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something clever
(aristophanes)
January, 1996
A decided boon, therefore, are any multiple-choice items for those pupils in our classrooms who are either inured to idleness, or guilty of wilful ignorance. Such pupils, if simply and appropriately instructed, have only to plump for the same answer on each occasion — let us say, choice (a) from choices (a) (b) (c) (d) — in order to achieve a reasonably regular score of some
25%
of the total marks available. This is a wholly satisfactory return for academic incompetence
(Crosscurrents in Assessment Criteria: Theory and Practice,
HMSO,
1983)
'What time do
you call this, Lewis?'
"The missus's fault. Not like her to be late with the breakfast.'
Morse made no answer as he stared down at the one remaining unsolved clue: 'Stand for soldiers? (5-4)'
Lewis took the chair opposite his chief and sat waiting for some considerable while, leafing through a magazine.
'Stuck, sir?' he asked finally.
'If I was - if I
were
- I doubt I'd get much help from you.'
‘Y
ou never know,' suggested Lewis good-naturedly. 'Perhaps—'
'Ah!' burst out Morse triumphantl
y - as he wrote in
toastrack
. He folded
The Times
away and beamed across at his sergeant.
"You - are - a - genius, Lewis.'
'So you've often told me, sir.'
'And
I bet you had a boiled egg for breakfast - with
soldiers.
Am I right?'
'What's that got—?'
'What are you reading there?'
Lewis held up the titl
e page of his magazine.
'Lew-is! There are more important things in life than the
Thames Valley Police Gazette.'
'Just thought you might be interested in one of the articles here
...'
Morse rose to the bait. 'Such as?'
'There's a sort of test - you know, see how many points you can score:
are you really wise and
cultured?'
'Very doubtful in your case, I should think.'
‘
You reckon you could do better than I did?'
'Quite certain of it.'
Lewis grinned. '
Quite
certain, sir?'
'Absolutely.'
'Want to have a go, th
en?' Lewis's mouth betrayed gentl
e amusement as Morse shrugged his indifference. 'Multiple-choice questions - you know all about—?' 'Get
on
with it!'
'All you've got to do is imagine t
he world's going to end in exactl
y one week's time, OK? Then you've got to answer five questions, as hone
stly
as you can.'
'And you've already answered these questions yourself?'
Lewis nodded.
'Well, if
you
can answer them
...
Fire away!' Lewis read aloud from the article:
Question One
Given the choice of only four CDs or cassettes, which one of the following would you be likely to play at least once?
A Beatles album
Faure's
Requiem
An Evening with Victor Borge
The complete overtures to Wagner's operas
With a swift flourish, Morse wrote down a letter.
Question Two
Which of these videos would you want to watch?
Casablanca
(the film)
England's World Cup victory (1966)
Copenhagen Red-Hot Sex
(2 hours)
The Habitat of the Kingfisher
(RSPB)
A second swift flourish from Morse.
Question Three
With which of the following women would you wish to spend some, if not all, of your surviving hours?
Lady Thatcher
Kim Basinger
Mother Teresa
Princess Diana
A third swift flourish.
Question Four
If you could gladden your final days with one of the following, which would it be?
Two dozen bottles of vintage champagne
Five hundred cigarettes
A large bottle of tranquillizers
A barrel of real ale
Flourish number four, and the candidate (confident of imminent success, it appeared) sat back in the black-leather armchair.
Question Five
Which of the following would you read during this period?
Cervantes'
Don Quixote
Dante's
The Divine Comedy
A bound volume of
Private Eye
(1995)
Homer's
Iliad
This time Morse hesitated some while before writing on the pad in front of him. 'You did the test yourself, you say?'
Lewis nodded. 'Victor Borge; the football; Princess
Diana; the champagne; and
Private Eye.
Just hope Princess Di likes Champers, that's all.'
"There must be worse ways of spending your last week on earth,' admitted Morse.
'I didn't do so well, though - not on the marking. I'm not up there among the cultured and the wise, I'm afraid.'
'Did you expect to be?'
'Wouldn't you?'
'Of course.'
'Let's hear what you picked, then.'
'My preferences, Lewis' (Morse articulated his words with precision) 'were as follows: (b); (c); (b); (c); none of them.'
Turning to the back page, Lewis reminded himself of the answers putatively adjudged to be correct.
'I don't believe it,' he whispered to himself. Then, to Morse: You scored the maximum!'
'Axe you surprised?'
Lewis shook his head in mild bewilderment.
You chose, what, the
Requiem?'
'Well?'
'But you've never believed in all that religious stuff.'
'It's important if it's
true,
though, isn't it? Let's just say it's a bit like an insurance policy. A beautiful work, anyway.'
'Says here: "Score four marks for (b). Sufficient recommendation that it was chosen by three of the last four Popes for their funerals."'
Morse lifted his eyebrows. You didn't know that?'
Lewis ignored the question and continued: 'Then you chose the sex video!'
'Well, it was either that or the kingfisher. I've already seen
Casablanca
a couple of times - and no one's ever going to make me watch a football match again.'
'But I mean, a sex video
...'
Morse, however, was clearly unimpressed by such obvious disapprobation. 'It'd be the choice of those three Popes as well, like as not'
'But it all gets - well, it gets so plain
boring
after a while.'
'So you keep telling me, Lewis. And all I'm asking is the chance to get as bored as everybody else. I've only got a
week,
remember.'
‘I
like your next choice, though. Beautiful girl, Kim Basinger.
Beautiful'
'Something of a toss-up, that - between her and Mother Teresa. But I'd already played the God-card.'
'Then' (Lewis considered the next answer) 'Arrghh, come off it, sir! You didn't even go for the beer! You're supposed to answer these questions
honestly.'
'I've already got plenty of booze in,' said Morse. 'Certainly enough to see me through to Judgment Day. And I don't fancy facing the Great Beyond with a blinding hangover. It'll be a new experience for me -tranquillizers
...'
Lewis looked down again, and proceeded to read out the reasons for Morse's greatest triumph. 'It says here, on Question Five, "Those choosing any of the suggested titles are clearly unfit for high honours. If any choice whatsoever is made, four marks will therefore be deducted from the final score. If the answer is a timid dash - or similar - no marks will be awarded, but no marks will be deducted. A more positively negative answer - e.g. 'Come off it!' - will be rewarded with a bonus of four marks."' Again Lewis shook his head. 'Nonsense, isn't it? "Positively negative", I mean.'
'Rather nicely put, I'd've thought,' said Morse.
'Anyway,' conceded Lewis, 'you score twenty out of twenty according to this fellow who seems to have all the answers.' Lewis looked again
at
the name printed below the article.' "Rhadamanthus" - whoever he is.'
'Lord Chief Justice of Appeal in the Underworld.'
Lewis frowned, then grinned. "You've been cheating! You've got a copy—'
'No!' Morse's blue eyes gazed fiercely across at his sergeant. 'The first I saw of that
Gazette
was when you brought it in just now.'
'If you say so.' But Lewis sounded less than convinced.
'Not surprised, are you, to find me perched up there on the topmost twig amongst the intelligentsia?'
'"The wise and the cultured", actually.'
'And that's another thing. I think I shall go crackers if I hear three things in my life much more: "Hark the Herald Angels Sing";
Eine Kleine Nachtmusik;
and that wretched bloody word "actually".'
'Sorry, sir.'
Suddenly Morse grinned. 'No need to be, old friend. And at least you're right about one thing. I did cheat -in a way.'
"You don't mean
you
...
?'
Morse nodded.
It had been a playful, pleasant interlude. Yet
it
would have warranted no inclusion in this chronicle had it not been that one or two of the details recorded h
erein were to linger significantl
y in the memory of Chief Inspector E. Morse, of the Thames Valley Police HQ.