The very first Inspector Morse mystery, written in 1975. It also introduces his sidekick, Sergeant Lewis. Set in the days when men, particularly Oxford dons, thought nothing of driving to a country pub for a few drinks, a spot of misogynist conversation, some casual sex with compliant barmaids or secretaries (who are apparently always up for it), and then driving back home and when you had to go to a cinema or back street newsagent to access pornography, this concerns a girl who, having hitch-hiked to Woodstock, is found with the skull smashed in in a pub car park. Although it depends too much on coincidence piled on coincidence for my taste, it is full of misdirection and there are some nice moments in which the author delays the reveal just a little bit longer.
Some great lines:
- "Her pride and poverty semi-detached was still her real home." (Prelude)
- "As I get older I must confess to the greater appreciation of two things in life - natural beauty and the delights of the belly." (C 11)
- "There was something, too, about the hands of people who worked with metal: a sort of ingrained griminess, however patiently they were scrubbed." (C 22)
November 2018; 182 pages
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