Death Is Now My Neighbor Read online

  “ABSORBING …

  Dexter’s narrative manages to be both cinematic and cerebral with its quick cross-cutting of scenes and its surprising revelations. Morse’s quick mind zips from point A to points XYZ with no stopping in between.”

  —The Orlando Sentinel

  “Death is Now My Neighbor takes this series to a new level of skillfulness and appeal. Mr. Dexter’s books are brilliantly clever concoctions, the prose equivalents of the crosswords his Inspector Morse is hooked on. The author blends elements of the classic puzzle-mystery, the police procedural, and a character saga to create a type of detective novel all his own.”

  —The Wall Street Journal

  “Dexter excels in constructing clever plots full of erudite clues and droll characterizations. Death is Now My Neighbor is no exception.”

  —San Francisco Chronicle

  “Vintage Dexter: a complex tangle of blackmail, sex, and ruthless academic politics.… Followers of the irascible detective will not be disappointed.”

  —Lexington Herald-Leader

  “Here is a skilled master at the peak of his powers.”

  —St. Louis Post-Dispatch

  “HIGHLY RECOMMENDED …

  The plotting is tight and the reasoning faultless in this most cerebral of police procedurals.”

  —The Montgomery Advertiser

  “The book is a masterful example of the unique genre of the British mystery. Tongue-in-cheek asides and scathing indictments against most of society’s accepted institutions enliven what is a complex puzzle.”

  —Chattanooga Free Press

  “Death is Now My Neighbor is a great treat for Morse fans.”

  —Pittsburg Post-Gazette

  “Newcomers … to the series will find themselves intrigued by the twists and turns of plot, not to mention the protagonist’s eccentric foibles.”

  —Miami Tribune

  “DEXTER IS IN HIGH GEAR.”

  —Entertainment Weekly

  “Dexter has crafted a fairly original plot, peopled it with enjoyable characters, and tosses about enough red herrings to put clue-hounds off the scent.”

  —Richmond Times-Dispatch

  “The incomparable Inspector Morse is back, irascible as ever, in a baffling mystery filled with sly wit and academic politics.”

  —Baton Rouge Advocate

  “The characters and the writing alike pulse with the endless capacity to surprise.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  By Colin Dexter:

  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*

  MORSE’S GREATEST MYSTERY and Other Stories*

  DEATH IS NOW MY NEIGHBOR*

  *Published by Ivy Books

  An Ivy Book

  Published by The Ballantine Publishing Group

  Copyright © 1996 by Colin Dexter

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by The Ballantine Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Originally published in the United Kingdom by Macmillan London, Ltd., in 1996, and in the United States by Crown Publishers, Inc., in 1997.

  http://www.randomhouse.com

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 97-95015

  eISBN: 978-0-307-77894-9

  This edition published by arrangement with Crown Publishers, Inc.

  v3.1

  For

  Joan Templeton

  with gratitude

  Acknowledgments

  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 & 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 Brontës by Juliet Barker reproduced by permission of Weidenfeld and Nicolson;

  Extract from The Dry Salvages by T. 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 this page 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

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Epigraph

  Prolegomenon

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Part Two

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Part Three

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Part Four

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Part Five

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Chapter Fi
fty-four

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Chapter Fifty-six

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  Part Six

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-one

  Chapter Sixty-two

  Chapter Sixty-three

  Chapter Sixty-four

  Chapter Sixty-five

  Part Seven

  Chapter Sixty-six

  Chapter Sixty-seven

  Chapter Sixty-eight

  Envoi

  Prolegomenon

  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 willful 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.”

  “You never know,” suggested Lewis good-naturedly. “Perhaps—”

  “Ah!” burst out Morse triumphantly, 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 title 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, then?” Lewis’s mouth betrayed gentle 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 the world’s going to end in exactly one week’s time, okay? Then you’ve got to answer five questions, as honestly 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) A Beatles album

  (b) Fauré’s Requiem

  (c) An Evening with Victor Borge

  (d) 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?

  (a) Casablanca (the film)

  (b) England’s World Cup victory (1966)

  (c) Copenhagen Red-Hot Sex (2 hours)

  (d) 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?

  (a) Lady Thatcher

  (b) Kim Basinger

  (c) Mother Teresa

  (d) Princess Diana

  A third swift flourish.

  Question Four

  If you could gladden your final days with one of the following, which would it be?

  (a) Two dozen bottles of vintage champagne

  (b) Five hundred cigarettes

  (c) A large bottle of tranquilizers

  (d) 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?

  (a) Cervantes’ Don Quixote

  (b) Dante’s The Divine Comedy

  (c) A bound volume of Private Eye (1995)

  (d) 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!”

  “Are 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—tranquilizers
…”

  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 honors. 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 herein were to linger significantly in the memory of Chief Inspector E. Morse of the Thames Valley Police HQ.

  PART ONE

  Chapter One

  In hypothetical sentences introduced by “if” and referring to past time, where conditions are deemed to be “unfulfilled,” the verb will regularly be found in the pluperfect subjunctive, in both protasis and apodosis.