Gently Where the Roads Go Read Online Free PDF

he goes he pick one up . . . you know. Not particular.’
    ‘But wasn’t there one special woman?’
    ‘No, Tim liked them all. He only want the one thing from them – then mm, mm! Goodbye.’
    ‘What about men. Did he mix with them?’
    ‘Oh, other drivers he talk to.’
    ‘Did he have any special men friends?’
    ‘No, he like the ladies best.’
    ‘Did he have any men friends at all?’
    Madsen thought. ‘No, not really friends. I don’ think he get on so well with the men. He don’ talk so much, don’ laugh and joke.’
    ‘No Polish friends he used to see?’
    ‘No, he would not talk to a Pole. He say he want to forget Poland, he is ver’ unhappy back there.’
    ‘Did he talk about that?’
    ‘He tell me they would hang him if he went back. Something he did in the war-time, selling things. You know.’
    ‘Anything else?’
    ‘No, nothing else.’
    ‘Not about them trying to make him go back?’
    ‘Nothing about that at all. He never talk about himself much.’
    ‘After this man had been to visit him – didn’t you ask him what it was about? You were partners, and good friends. Surely something must have been said.’
    Madsen’s smiling was embarrassed. ‘Yes . . . you know . . . I do mention it. Tim wouldn’ speak to a Pole as a rule, this one he take upstairs and have a chat with. So I mention something.’
    ‘What did he say?’
    ‘Oh, he say forget about it. It was just somebody passing through who stop by for a chat.’
    ‘Did that square with what you saw of him?’
    Again the embarrassment. ‘I don’ know . . . At first he seem nervous, speak ver’ low . . . and Tim don’ say anything for a moment.’
    ‘Then?’
    ‘Then Tim give a shrug, say something quick to him in Polish. Then they go out of the garage and I hear them go up the steps to the flat.’
    ‘What happened when they came down?’
    ‘Oh, nothing at all. They are not saying anything. This man go straight out of the garage and Tim, he get out a cigar and light it.’
    ‘Do you know who wanted to kill Tim, Madsen?’
    ‘No. I don’ have any idea.’
    ‘Was he never in trouble over his women?’
    ‘No. They are prostitutes. You know?’
    Gently sucked some more on the empty pipe. Empton drove smoke towards the ceiling. His legs were stretched out by the desk, an expensive brogue by an expensive brogue. The street below was stirring a little. The clock said ten minutes to one. Felling appeared to be still perspiring, since he had just wiped his face again.
    Gently said: ‘Have you any knowledge that Teodowicz was engaged in espionage?’
    ‘Esp’nage?’ Madsen looked puzzled.
    ‘That he was a spy, selling secret information.’
    ‘A spy? Oh, no . . . that is ver’ ridiculous! You cannot be thinking Tim was a spy.’
    ‘What makes you so positive?’
    ‘It is so unlikely! You do not know Tim at all. He is – what do you say? He want to forget it, to turn his back, to live quiet on his own. He don’ want to be mixed up with anything like that, it is ver’ ridiculous. You do not know him.’
    ‘Ha, ha,’ Empton said.
    ‘But yes, it is true,’ Madsen said. ‘He have all this trouble back in Poland, now he just want to live quiet.’
    ‘And that was your picture of him,’ Gently said. ‘Now he just wanted to live quiet.’
    ‘But yes. It is the same all the time I know him.’
    ‘Thank you,’ Gently said. ‘That’s all for the moment.’
    The door closed.
    Empton got up, stubbed the cigarette, flexed his hands.
    ‘Probably genuine,’ he said. ‘Lacked the
savoir-faire
of a professional. Teodowicz strung him along nicely with his I-want-to-be-alone act. Teodowicz was probably a useful man. A pity he put a foot wrong.’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Whitaker said. ‘I’m still as puzzled as I was before. There doesn’t seem anything to get a hold on, it’s shuttered up all round.’
    Empton’s teeth. ‘We’re used to it, old man. It’s the view these cases always present. You get a murder