Free The Way Through The Woods by Colin Dexter

didn't come up with anything.'
    'Do you know how big Wytham Woods is, man?'
    Lewis had a good idea, yes. But he merely shrugged shoulders.
    'Why would Morse be interested in the dog?'
    'Don't know. He told me once he'd never had any pets when he was a lad.'
    'Perhaps he should get one now. Lots of bachelors have dogs
    'You must suggest it to him, sir,' replied Lewis, with a note confidence in his voice, and a strange exhilaration flooding his limbs, for he suddenly realized that it was Johnson who was on defensive here, not himself. They were trying to pick his Lewis’s) brains because they were envious of his relationship with Morse!
    ‘What about the camera?' continued Johnson.
    ‘You can ask the Daleys, can't you? If they're still there.'
    ‘Odd question though, wouldn't you say?'
    ‘I just don't know, sir. I think Morse told me he had a “brownie” given him once, but he said he never really understood how to work it.'
    Sitting back in an almost relaxed manner now, Lewis looked down at the questions again. 'Should be easy to check on (b) – about the weather…'
    Again Johnson waved a hand, and Wilkins consulted his notes according to Radio Oxford… the ninth of July… "Dry, sunny, seventy two to seventy-four degrees Fahrenheit; outlook settled; possability of some overnight mist".'
    ‘Nice. warm day, then,' said Lewis blandly.'
    ‘What about (c)?'
    ‘Crossword clue, sir. He's pretty hot on crosswords.'
    ‘That's the answer?’
    ‘No good asking me. Sometimes I can't even do the Mirror coffee-one.'
    ' "Ze-bra" – that's the answer.'
    ‘Really? Well that's another one crossed off.'
    ‘What about this "Dendrocopus Minor"?' There was a note of exasperation in Johnson's voice now. ‘Pass' said Lewis with a gentle smile.
    ‘For Christ's sake, man, we're on a potential murder enquiry – not a Bloody pub-quiz Don't you realize that? As a matter of fact it’s the Lesser something bloody Woodpecker!'
    ‘We learn something new every day.'
    ‘Yes we do, Sergeant. And I'll tell you something else, if you like. It’s habitat is woodlands or parklands and there are a few nesting in Wytham!'
    ‘Lewis's new-found confidence was starting to ebb away as Johnson glared at him aggressively. 'You don't seem all that anxious to help us, Sergeant, do you? So let me just tell you why I asked along here. As you probably know, we're starting searching Blenheim all over again today, and we're going to search search until we're blue in the bloody face, OK? But if we still don’t find anything we're going to hand over to Morse – and to you, Sergeant. I just thought you might like to know what we're all against, see?'
    Lewis was conscious of a sinking sense of humiliation. 'I I-didn't know that, sir.'
    'Why should you? They don't tell even you everything, do they’
    'Why might they be taking you off?' asked Lewis slowly.
    'They – "they" – are taking me off because they don't think I'm any fucking good,' said Johnson bitterly as he rose to his feet 'That's why!'

chapter sixteen
Between 1871 and 1908 he published twenty volumes of verse, of little merit
    ('Alfred Austin', The Oxford Companion to English Literature, edited by Margaret Drabble)
     
    morse was spending the last three days of his West Country holiday at the King's Arms in Dorchester (Dorchester, Dorset). Here he encountered neither models nor beauticians; but at last he began to feel a little reluctant about returning to Oxford. On the Wednesday he had explored Hardy's Dorchester on foot (!) a.m., and spent the whole p.m. in the Dorset County Museum. Nostalgic, all of it. And when finally he returned to 'the chief hotel in Casterbridge' he sat drinking his beer in the bar before dinner •sith the look of a man who was almost at ease with life.
    On the Thursday morning he drove out through the countryside that provided much of the setting for Tess of the d'Urbervilles, along the A352 to the east of Dorchester, following the Vale of the Great Dairies, past