The Way Through the Woods is the tenth novel in Colin Dexter's Oxford-set detective series. Quietly, rather movingly, Strange was making his plea: 'Christ knows why, Lewis, but Morse will always put himself out for you.' As he put the phone down, Lewis knew that Strange had been right . . . in the case of the Swedish Maiden, the pair of them were in business again . . . They called her the Swedish Maiden – the beautiful young tourist who disappeared on a hot summer's day somewhere in North Oxford. Twelve months later the case remained unsolved – pending further developments. On holiday in Lyme Regis, Chief Inspector Morse is startled to read a tantalizing article in The Times about the missing woman. An article which lures him back to Wytham Woods near Oxford . . . and straight into the most extraordinary murder investigation of his career. The Way Through the Woods is followed by the eleventh Inspector Morse book, The Daughters of Cain.

American Tourist found dead in hotel room

The one where Morse is in hospital

The Secret of Annexe 3 is the seventh novel in Colin Dexter's Oxford-set detective series. Morse sought to hide his disappointment. So many people in the Haworth Hotel that fateful evening had been wearing some sort of disguise – a change of dress, a change of make-up, a change of partner, a change of attitude, a change of life almost; and the man who had died had been the most consummate artist of them all . . . Chief Inspector Morse seldom allowed himself to be caught up in New Year celebrations. So the murder inquiry in the festive hotel had a certain appeal. It was a crime worthy of the season. The corpse was still in fancy dress. And hardly a single guest at the Haworth had registered under a genuine name . . . The Secret of Annexe 3 is followed by the eighth Inspector Morse book, The Wench is Dead.

The thought suddenly occurred to Morse that this would be a marvellous time to murder a few of the doddery old bachelor dons. No wives to worry about their whereabouts; no landladies to whine about the unpaid rents. In fact nobody would miss most of them at all... By the 16th of July the Master of Lonsdale was concerned, but not yet worried.Dr Browne-Smith had passed through the porter's lodge at approximately 8.15 a.m. on the morning of Friday, 11th July. And nobody had heard from him since.Plenty of time to disappear, thought Morse. And plenty of time, too, for someone to commit murder...

Morse switched on the gramophone to 'play', and sought to switch his mind away from all the terrestrial troubles. Sometimes, this way, he almost managed to forget. But not tonight... Anne Scott's address was scribbled on a crumpled note in the pocket of Morse's smartest suit.He turned the corner of Canal Street, Jericho, on the afternoon of Wednesday, 3rd October.He hadn't planned a second visit. But he was back later the same day - as the officer in charge of a suicide investigation...

"[MORSE IS] THE MOST PRICKLY, CONCEITED, AND GENUINELY BRILLIANT DETECTIVE SINCE HERCULE POIROT." --The New York Times Book Review This time Inspector Morse brings the imposition on himself. He could have been vacationing in Greece instead of investigating a murder that the police have long since written off. But he finds the crime--the brutal killing of a suburban churchwarden--fascinating. In fact, he uncovers not one murder but two, for the fatal fall of St. Frideswides vicar from the church tower Morse reckons to be murder as well. And as he digs into the lives and unsanctified lusts of the late vicar's erring flock, the list of the dead grows longer. Not even the oddly appealing woman he finds scrubbing the church floor can compensate Morse for the trouble he's let himself in for. So he has another pint, follows his hunches, and sets out to untangle the deadly business of homicide. . . . "A BRILLIANTLY PLOTTED DETECTIVE STORY." --Evening Standard (London) "WILY. . . ELEGANT." --Observer (London)

"Chief Inspector Morse and Sergeant Lewis went into the house. Inside the sitting-room, the light was still switched on and a gas fire was burning. The dead body of a young man was lying on the carpet, in front of the fire. Near the body, on a small table, stood a bottle of sherry and a wine glass. The bottle was almost full, the glass was almost empty. Morse smelt the sherry which was left in the glass. 'This smells like cyanide, Lewis,' he said. 'This man was probably poisoned.' " -- Cover.

After leaving home to return to school, teenager Valerie Taylor had completely vanished, and the trail had gone cold. Until two years, three months and two days after her disappearance, somebody decides to supply some surprising new evidence.

Last Bus to Woodstock is the novel that began Colin Dexter's phenomenally successful Inspector Morse series. 'Do you think I'm wasting your time, Lewis?' Lewis was nobody's fool and was a man of some honesty and integrity. 'Yes, sir.' An engaging smile crept across Morse's mouth. He thought they could get on well together . . .' The death of Sylvia Kaye figured dramatically in Thursday afternoon's edition of the Oxford Mail. By Friday evening Inspector Morse had informed the nation that the police were looking for a dangerous man – facing charges of wilful murder, sexual assault and rape. But as the obvious leads fade into twilight and darkness, Morse becomes more and more convinced that passion holds the key . . . Last Bus to Woodstock is followed by the second Inspector Morse book, Last Seen Wearing.