Special pleading and deliberate perversion apart, the novel's text in its first four numbers (to Chapter 16) states unmistakably that the murder of a nephew has been committed in or about a cathedral church in the early hours of a Christmas Day which has fallen on a Sunday. It is of course possible that this coincidence of time and place was undesigned; but students of Dickens, who have noted his meticulous care in building up environmental detail in previous novels, will doubt it. They will expect to find a purpose behind facts which have been so carefully and plainly underlined by the author. With such a background, the purpose in this case must surely be related in some way to religion. Jasper strikes at the Cathedral and what it stands for in his own mind, quite as much as at the actual victim, his over-successful nephew. He has become the figure of antichrist, the Man of Sin. And Dickens, showing antichrist desecrating the Cathedral's altar under cover of the Cathedral's bland unconscious guardians in the persons of the Dean and Mr. Tope, is offering to his readers of 1870 a considerable shock. 
   Dickens's notes for Chapter XII (originally Chapter XI but altered to allow for under-writing in the first two numbers) are as follows: 

A Night with Durdles 
* * * 
Lay the ground for the manner of the Murder, to come out at last. 
Keep the boy suspended. 
Night picture of the Cathedral. 

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   As Dickens is using his own phrase here - 'Lay the ground' - quoted earlier from his letter to Collins (see p. 17) and in a similar context, i.e., preparing for later revelation, another exercise in deliberate perversity would be needed to show, after reading Chapter XII, that the Cathedral has nothing to do with the murder, nor the murder with the Cathedral. They are closely related, as I have shown above, and in offering an explanation for the involvement of the Cathedral, not only in Jasper's motives for the crime but in his manner of committing it, I am fully aware that I lay on myself the onus of showing how the author could have solved the formidable problems entailed in planning a murder in a church at midnight with complete secrecy and security for the murderer, and maintaining such security during the time taken for the disposal of the victim's body. 
   It can be seen in this chapter, in which Jasper is preparing for the murder, that the Cathedral plays a major part in his practical arrangements, as well as having been one of the motivating forces drawing him on. He finds it necessary to stage something in the nature of a dress-rehearsal for what he plans to do on Christmas Eve. That he has rehearsed it 'hundreds of times' in imagination under the influence of opium is made clear later, in Chapter XXIII, 'The Dawn Again'; but imagination is not enough. The murderer, who has had a scapegoat, Neville Landless, handed to him almost ready-made by the obliging Mr. Crisparkle, must also have an alibi or escape-route for his own security in the event of anything going wrong with his plan. Now Dickens when constructing alibis, as I have hinted before, is not at his most brilliantly inventive; one remembers the crude plan of Jonas Chuzzlewit: to lock himself up in a small back room which clearly had access to the street, travel eighty miles to commit a murder and eighty miles back - at the speed of coaching days - and expect it to be believed, on the word of his wife, that he had never left the room. The efforts to throw suspicion on Lady Dedlock and George Rouncewell are not much better; young Tom Gradgrind's device of getting Stephen Blackpool to hang about the bank for a few days in order to attract suspicion to himself while Tom prepares to rob it does not exactly bring Machiavelli to mind; and Orlick's 

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alibi (perhaps designedly) for the attack on Pip's sister is very vague indeed. Bradley Headstone, whose idea of disguising himself as the lock-keeper-bargeman Riderhood might have had a faint chance of success if he had not shown himself to his would-be scapegoat complete with disguise, and crowned this piece of ineptitude by falling for a very obvious trap in imitating exactly an alteration in Riderhood's dress, does realize that his crime might have been more efficiently committed; but his regrets are directed to the manner of it rather than the escape-route, which is quite as feeble as any of the others. 
   We must not then expect a brilliantly constructed alibi for Jasper based on some diabolically clever fiddling with the Cathedral clock hands or Edwin Drood's watch; the plotting of this murder, related as it is to human motives rather than mechanical puzzles, will probably not be of astonishing ingenuity. But Dickens, whether he knows it or not, has learnt something from Collins. In referring earlier (see p. 13) to his disdainful reference to The Moonstone, I offered the theory that a part, at least, of his dislike of it was based on the craft or cunning used by Collins with intent to mislead readers. But it is possible that Dickens found himself mistaken; the cunningly contrived 'clues', instead of 'making enemies of readers', seemed, astonishingly, to increase their admiration of the author. Now if there is one quality loudly absent from all the above examples of crooks evading justice, it is that of cunning, craft or artfulness on the part of their author in devising their escape-routes. But in Edwin Drood the murderer's scheme of self-protection, while still carrying the mark of Dickensian simplicity, is very much more carefully prepared, convincing and indeed more efficient than any he has attempted before. This can be seen in the way Neville Landless is prepared for the rôle of scapegoat. From the first number as published (Ch. IV) the author has seen that Jasper will need an intensely prejudiced 'Jackass in Authority' to come to the support of the implicit accusation of Neville. He provides it in Sapsea, the Mayor. Mr. Sapsea, consulted by Jasper and Crisparkle with the accused Neville after the murder, expresses his opinion that the case has a dark look: in short (and here his eyes rest full 

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on Neville's countenance), an un-English complexion. But Jasper is building up the case against Neville well before the crime is committed, almost from the moment they meet at the Crisparkle dinner-party, and in a rather more subtle way than any of the author's previous criminals could have hoped to manage. We infer that he has seen (as he would be quick to see) the admiration of Neville for Rosa; he seizes the opportunity immediately, follows the two young men and foments their quarrel, afterwards exaggerating to Crisparkle the extent of Neville's outburst and taking care to enlist the sympathy of Crisparkle's mother by telling her all about it on the following moming under pretence of making an apology. Mrs. Crisparkle's antagonism to Neville having been ensured, the antagonism of most of respectable Cloisterham will inevitably follow. Dickens' s notes for this chapter (VIII as published) include the phrase with which we are now familiar: 'Jasper lays his ground.' 
   Dickens also lays his ground. It is obvious from that note that Jasper is planning or plotting for the future; but by the light thrown on his state of mind in Chapter XXIII (quoted on p. 63) it seems very probable that he has still at this stage (fomenting the quarrel) not absolutely decided on the murder of his nephew. The appearance of Neville - almost ready groomed for the scapegoat part - must surely be the greatest temptation he has faced yet. And then Crisparkle (Ch. X, 'Smoothing the Way'), as though bent on playing Jasper' s game, virtually forces another temptation in him, one which will make time, place and fellow-traveller adhere: 

'. ..In a word, Jasper, I want to establish peace between these two young fellows.' 
   A very perplexed expression took hold of Mr. Jasper' s face; a very perplexing expression too, for Mr. Crisparkle could make nothing of it.
    'How?' was Jasper's inquiry, in a low and slow voice, after a silence.
    'For the "how" I come to you. I want to ask you to do me the great favour and service of interposing with your nephew (I have already interposed with Mr. Neville), and getting him to write you a short note, in his lively way, saying that he is willing to shake hands. I know what a good-natured fellow he is, and what influence you have with him. And without 

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in the least defending Mr .Neville, we must ail admit that he was bitterly stung.' 
   Jasper turned that perplexed face towards the fire. Mr. Crisparkle continuing to observe it, found it even more perplexing than before, inasmuch as it seemed to denote (which could hardly be) some close internal calculation. 
   'I know that you are not prepossessed in Mr. Neville's favour,' the Minor Canon was going on, when Jasper stopped him:
   'You have cause to say so. I am not, indeed.' 
   'Undoubtedly, and I admit his lamentable violence of temper, though I hope he and I will get the better of it between us. But I have exacted a very solemn promise from him as to his future demeanour towards your nephew, if you do kindly interpose; and I am sure he will keep it.'
   'You are always responsible and trustworthy, Mr. Crisparkle. Do you really feel sure that you can answer for him so confidently?'
   '1 do.' 
   The perplexed and perplexing look vanished. 
   'Then you relieve my mind of a great dread, and a heavy weight,' said Jasper. '1 will do it.' (Ch. X, pp. 85-6)

   This dialogue is another piece of ambiguous writing: the ironic parenthetic 'which could hardly be' is a hint; and it indicates a crisis in Jasper's mind, known to the narrator but unknown or at most only half guessed at by the reader, in which the final temptation is offered and accepted and the decision taken to commit the murder. Crisparkle's phrase, 'to establish peace' , instantly conveys to Jasper that some action must be taken by him if a part of his yet incomplete plan - the recently acquired scapegoat - is not to collapse. He must either act as mediator with Crisparkle, or refuse to do so. If  he refuses, he loses Crisparkle's sympathy, and therefore to some extent the sympathy of Cloisterham, which he will need after if the murder is to be done; but if he agrees and plays the part Crisparkle asks, the two young men will be reconciled (he knows Edwin's easy-going good nature) and there will be the end of the scapegoat. He realizes that he must now make up his mind as to whether the murder is to be committed or not, for if he loses the scapegoat. the murder must either be given up or committed without one. Now if the murder is 

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to be done, why throw away the scapegoat, so opportunely offered? But if the murder is not done, he must lose Rosa to Edwin and Egypt. It seems to me that arguments like these, twisting about in Jasper's mind at this moment, amply account for the perplexed and, to Crisparkle, perplexing look. There is one other point which may be made here, the textual justification for which I have quoted on page 83. I think it possible that in the second mention of the 'perplexed face' quoted above, to which is added that 'it seemed to de note some close internal calculation', Dickens intended Jasper to be realizing that the ensuing Christmas Day would fall on a Sunday. It would be the final temptation; and in considering Jasper's fall one must recollect the passage from Our Mutual Friend quoted above (p. 75): '. ..great criminals ...very rarely tell of their struggles against the crime. Their struggles are towards it.' 
   Jasper, as created by Dickens, would see the murder slipping away from him through Crisparkle's well-meant interference. At the same time, he would see the Minor Canon offering him a perfect opportunity to gratify in reality his lust fantasy - by now almost a craving. It is the crisis of the novel. 'I will do it,' he says. And he means that he will commit the murder. 
   Dickens's notes for this crisis chapter (X) open as follows: 

Smoothing the Way 
* * * 
That is, for Jasper's plan, through Mr. Crisparkle: who takes new ground on Neville's new confidence. 

   The chapter title is itself ambiguous: 'Smoothing the Way' refers ostensibly to Crisparkle's efforts to reconcile the two young men; but the author's notes indicate the real intention. ' ...through Mr. Crisparkle' means that Crisparkle is in fact helping the murder on - smoothing its way. Neville's 'new confidence' is that he admires (is in love with) Rosa. Crisparkle's 'new ground' is that, now knowing this, he cannot passively acknowledge the existence of the feud between Drood and Landless, he seeming to support Landless as a 

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member of his household. He therefore feels it his duty, as well as his inclination, to make peace between the two young men. He calls on Jasper for this purpose, but the messenger of peace is really the tempter; he is offering Jasper the opportunity of bringing the pair together. Crisparkle's innocence is contributing to the murder, and that Jasper realizes the irony of this is made clear by his fit of laughter as he later overhears the Minor Canon making arrangements with Neville for the meeting, on the night of the exploration of the Cathedral with Durdles (Ch. XII, p. 105). 
   From this time, Jasper's purpose is clear, relentless and straightforward. He now arranges for the dress-rehearsa! of his murder, the Night with Durdles, in which he unaccountably, as the narrator has it, explores the Cathedral from bottom to top, from crypt to tower. This 'unaccountable' expedition was to be accounted for by Dickens, according to his notes, 'at last' i.e., in the final chapters. In his absence many attempts have been made to fill the blank; but I have seen none that take into account the simplicity - it might be termed naïveté by twentieth-century readers - with which he has attempted to obfuscate the reader (or the detective police) in his past work, some of which I have quoted above. The explanation I offer here is an exceedingly simple one and maintains the thesis that the Cathedral is an integral part of the book and an integral part of the murder, even that it is in some sort responsible for the murder, by its own negligence: that Jasper the choirmaster, seeking to murder his nephew under the driving power of complex motives, knows and acknowledges that the Cathedra! is one of them, and must be included in the murder if the murder is to express his accumulated hate. 
   Assume, then, that Jasper's 'plan', as usual for Dickens, was without clever elaboration, but that this time, instead of being a weakness, the simplicity made for success. The actual movements of the three characters from midnight on cannot be in very much doubt. Neville is clearly telling the truth as far as he knows it about the midnight visit to the river. Jasper's power of hypnotic suggestion has been mentioned already; it was to be used at full strength on his two guests after the Christmas Eve dinner. A hint of this is given in

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Neville's answer to Crisparkle the following day:  

   'You left Mr. Jasper's last night, with Edwin Drood... at what hour?' 
   'Was it at twelve o'clock?' asked Neville, with his hand to his confused head, and appealing to Jasper. (Ch. XV , p. 134) 

   He is vaguely aware that Jasper had 'suggested' that the two young men should go down to the river 'to see the action of the wind there'. On Edwin's return alone, Jasper again was to 'suggest' that it might be more interesting still to see it from the Cathedral tower, to which he still has the key; or alternatively (he cannot be expected to have predicted the storm) for Edwin to take his last look at Cloisterham before departing for Egypt, from this vantage point. On whatever pretext, Edwin, once inveigled up the tower, is strangled there with the long black scarf worn by Jasper. His body is pitched over, to land in the graveyard below. Jasper hurries down to it, and having ascertained that there are no watchers, hustles it into the tomb - Sapsea, Drood or other - that he has prepared for it on the night of the 'expedition'. He then returns to his Gate House, removes all traces of his night's activities from himself and, at the moment when he can reasonably be expected to have noticed his nephew' s absence, appears at Minor Canon Corner, distracted and suitably pale. 
   The strength of this plan lies in the simplicity of its safeguard for the murderer: should any stray and sleepless Cloisterham night-wanderer walk into its operation at any point, Jasper has a perfectly good story to tell, right up to the very last moment - the actual disposal of the body. The whole thing was an accident, says the distracted uncle. He had been over-persuaded by his nephew into taking him up the tower; they had both under-estimated the strength of the wind up there; Edwin rashly ventured too near to the edge - and should anyone seem disposed to discover signs of throttling, Jasper has only to elaborate his story to include an attempted rescue in which the scarf somehow became entangled, etc., etc. 
   It is possible that Jasper was to have had an even simpler plan - merely to have staged the 'accident' outlined above and been chief mourner at his nephew' s funeral - but to

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have realized, after meeting the Landlesses, what a cloud of suspicion he could throw upon Neville if he could make the body disappear. As to its disappearance, Dickens probably shared with most of his readers the belief that quicklime had the property of completely assimilating a human body, clothes and all as he shared their belief in spontaneous combustion, and, had he lived, might well have defended that belief in another preface. But as I noted on page 22, the scientific plausibility of the plot is not of the first importance. If it be granted that Jasper murdered his nephew, and that in murdering him the Cathedral building was in some way involved - particularly the Cathedral tower, for he appears to refer to it in chapter XXIII when under the influence of opium: 

It was a journey, a difficult and dangerous journey. That was the subject in my mind. A hazardous and perilous journey, over abysses where a slip would be destruction. Look down, look down! You see what lies at the bottom there? (p. 207) 

then I submit that some such plan as I have outlined above must have been in the author's mind for his criminal. An alibi - that Jasper was elsewhere - is out of the question for a cathedral choirmaster on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. There must be then an escape-route: a convincing story which will make murder look like accident in the event of interruption in the act. A fall from the tower is surely the only plausible way of doing this; and by using the tower in this way Jasper achieves, as he thinks, complete safety for himself. The author at the same time achieves complete mystery, though a hint has been given as far back as the novel's opening paragraph, that the tower is foremost in Jasper's consciousness as he recovers from one of his opium-induced 'journeys' : ' An ancient English Cathedral Town? How can the ancient English Cathedral town be here? The well-known massive grey square tower of its old Cathedral? How can that be here!' 
   Such an explanation of the involvement of the tower will account for the unaccountable, giving a reason for Jasper's 'whim' of exploring it. He must make himself familiar with the winding staircase and the way up, which 'lies through 

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strange places... level low-arched galleries... narrower and steeper staircases' , if he is to lead Edwin Drood up there on Christmas Eve; and Durdles, obviously, is the man to show him the way. Without a dress rehearsal (I have termed it so because the thing has been 'rehearsed' already 'hundreds of times') he would never have dared to put the plan into operation. There were too many abysses (literal or figurative) where a slip might mean destruction (or discovery). He receives two warnings on the 'expedition' night: Durdles it seems was 'sleeping it off' in the crypt at this time last year; and the boy Deputy, to Jasper' s surprise and fury, is haunting the close as they come out of the crypt. He cannot guarantee an uninterrupted night and has planned accordingly; if he is discovered, his story is ready and all he will lose is the scapegoat part of his scheme, Neville Landless - which in any case was an elaboration introduced at a later stage. But the author intends him to succeed, for he has a card yet to play: 

And this is another spell against which the shedder of blood for ever strives in vain. There are fifty doors by which discovery may enter. With infinite pains and cunning, he double locks and bars forty-nine of them, and cannot see the fiftieth standing wide open. (Our Mutual Friend, Bk. 4, Ch. VII) 

   Jasper's murder of his nephew avenges years of devotion acknowledged too often by careless acceptance sometimes amounting to snubs; it takes in his sister' s marriage to Drood and settles his long debt of hatred to the Cathedral. And it clears the way for his pursuit of Rosa. At the same time the plan ensures that he himself shall be the victim, the bereaved; Edwin Drood will mysteriously disappear, or die by accident, or seem to have been murdered by Neville Landless, at whom suspicion has been cleverly directed. And by throttling his victim he has ensured that no falling shriek shall rouse a drunken Durdles, who might be asleep in the crypt. 
   But he knows nothing of the ring Edwin bears on his body: 

...Mr. Jasper dropped in for a watch-glass the other day, and, in fact, I showed these articles to him, remarking that if he should wish to make a present to a gentleman relative, on any particular occasion- But he said with a smile that he had an inventory in his mind of all the jewellery his gentleman 

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relative ever wore; namely, his watch and chain, and his shirt-pin. (Ch. XIV , p. 125) 

for he has no knowledge of the Will of Rosa's father, diverted from him by the innocent but instinctive action of Rosa her- self (Ch. IX, p. 70 and Ch. XI, p. 96). The ring is the fiftieth door, wide open and unseen, leading to detection and the condemned cell.