Gently Where the Roads Go Read Online Free PDF Page A

me these questions which don’ mean nothing, what can I say? I didn’ kill Tim!’
    ‘But you know who did,’ Empton said.
    ‘I don’. I was not anywhere here.’
    ‘You were in the garage when the man walked in.’
    ‘The garage?’ Madsen stared a moment. ‘I saw that man, yes, I said so – I tell you everything I know about that man. All the questions I answer about him. And it is true – he did come in.’
    ‘Oh, he came in all right,’ Empton said. ‘And you know his name, don’t you, Madsen?’
    ‘But I did not speak to him at all!’
    Empton let his teeth show.
    ‘Let’s see how truthful you are,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a test for you here, Madsen. The man you know about is in this stack of photographs. We know which one – now let’s see if you do.’
    He handed the photographs over the desk. Madsen took them from him uncertainly. He raised his eyes to look at Empton, dropped them quickly, began to fumble the photographs. Empton’s eyes stayed fixed on Madsen’s face. Madsen’s fingers were big and clumsy. The photographs showed a number of men who appeared to be of un-English extraction.
    ‘Take your time, Madsen,’ Empton said. ‘You may find some other friends of yours.’
    ‘No,’ Madsen said. ‘I don’ know them. I don’ know any of these men.’
    ‘You surprise me,’ Empton said. ‘Don’t you have any friends, Madsen?’
    ‘I’ve got some friends,’ Madsen said.
    ‘Well, well,’ Empton said softly.
    Madsen came to the end of the stack.
    ‘It isn’ no good,’ he said. ‘I don’ know them.’
    ‘Can’t you have a stab at it?’ Empton said. ‘Look better that way, wouldn’t it, Madsen?’
    ‘I didn’ see that man properly,’ Madsen said.
    ‘Couldn’t you take a chance?’ Empton said.
    Madsen laid the stack on the desk. His mouth was tight, turned down at the corners.
    ‘Perhaps I made a mistake,’ Empton said. ‘Perhaps he wasn’t in that pack after all, Madsen. Maybe he’s still back here in the envelope. I’ll play the cards. You call.’
    He picked up the envelope the pack had come from, took out another photograph, threw it on the desk. Madsen eyed it, made no motion. Empton threw down another, and another. Then he stopped. Madsen had bent forward. The Kasimir photograph had appeared.
    ‘Your call,’ Empton murmured.
    ‘That one,’ Madsen said. ‘Perhaps that could be him.’
    Empton smoked: a straw-coloured tube containing a grey and pungent tobacco; leaning far back in his chair and letting the smoke arise from his mouth. He took no notice while Gently was putting his few routine questions to Madsen. He had packed his papers in the briefcase and stood the case on the desk. Whitaker, on the other hand, was giving his attention to the questions. He had his back half-turned to Empton as though the better to observe the interchange. Felling continued by the door. He was also watching and listening keenly.
    ‘How long had you known Teodowicz?’ Gently asked.
    Madsen’s smiles were beginning to return. They were not deliberate, not insincere, but seemed to well up in him like a sunny child’s. You looked at him, spoke to him, and he smiled.
    ‘It will be over six years, I think, now . . . I knew him when he drove for GUS, then I used to meet him on the road. And when I told him about my money he said, buy a truck and join him here. So that is what I did with my money, and we have a ver’ good business.’
    ‘You were good friends with him?’
    ‘Oh, yes. Good friends.’
    ‘You spent your free time together?’
    ‘Yes, when we were off together. But I am in Plymouth sometimes, say, and he is in Norwich or Glasgow, like that. We do not see ver’ much of each other, just in the weekends, perhaps.
    ‘What did you do when you were off together?’
    ‘Oh, we have a drink, have a meal. Go to the pictures, pick up two women. We don’ do anything ver’ special.’
    ‘Was Teodowicz fond of women?’
    ‘Oh, yes, he liked the women. Wherever