Gently Where the Roads Go (2 page)

‘I wouldn’t damn well want to be,’ she said. ‘And you’ll never be an Englishman, either.’

The smile came back. ‘I am agreeing,’ he said. ‘I think it may be time I gave up trying.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I am going away, Wanda.’

She jerked up straight. ‘When?’

‘Soon.’

‘Where to?’

He stirred lazily, his lids drooping, cat-like.

‘I think to America,’ he said.

‘America! They’d never let you in.’

‘I’m not proposing to give them the option.’

‘You’re mad, Tim. Quite mad.’

He reached for his coffee, drank noisily. ‘The reverse,’ he said. ‘I’m being sane. I have a knack, you remember? It has kept me alive so far.’

‘But why? Is it the police?’

‘The police!’ He chuckled. ‘They are my friends. No, your English policemen are wonderful. That is true – oh, so true.’

‘Then . . . what?’

The shrug. ‘My instinct. I feel I’ve been here long enough. And you are coming with me, Wanda. That is why I am telling you this.’

‘Me – to America?’

‘Yes. I will fix it.’

‘Man,’ she said, ‘you’re really high.’

He shook his head. ‘I am stone cold sober. You are coming with me. We are leaving soon.’

She sat very still on the hard chair, trying to see his eyes in the semi-darkness. And he was watching her too, from his shadows, from under the almost-closed lids.

‘I can’t,’ she said at last. ‘This place.’

‘I’ll appoint an agent to sell it for you,’ he said.

‘What about your trucks?’

‘Madsen can have them.’

‘Just like that?’

‘I am not entirely impoverished.’

‘Christ,’ she said. ‘When do we go?’

He sat up, shaking with his low chuckle. ‘Soon we go. When all is ready. I am playing it by ear, as the Yankees say. So you must be ready, day or night, just to lock those doors and go. You will be discreet, especially with men. You are not to mention my name at all. I will tell you more in a little while. I shall be back quite soon, Wanda.’

He stood up, tall, massive, the hair on his chest dark with sweat. She smelt the odour of his sweat as he reached for the jacket. He put it on, but didn’t button it. It was all he wore in the summer. He was a good fifty, perhaps more, but tough as rawhide. And virile.

She gave a moan. ‘Don’t go yet.’

He took her breasts in his hands and kissed her.

‘I shall be back.’

‘No. Stay.’

‘There are things to be done. I must go.’

‘But – do you mean it? This going to America?’

‘Have I ever said what I didn’t mean?’

‘It’s so bloody mad,’ she groaned.

He was smiling. ‘You will see.’

And then he was gone, moving silently, avoiding the close-packed furniture in the next room; vanishing away out of the house while the warmth of his hands was still on her. She sat desolate, listening for the latch click, but this too was managed silently. All she heard was the buzz of his van as he drove out of the park and towards Offingham. Midnight. She had had him for exactly an hour. Their loving had lasted, at the most, ten minutes.

‘The rotten so-and-so,’ she kept murmuring.

Though the room was so warm, her flesh felt chill.

Statement by Robert Arthur Goodings, truck-driver, 42, of Bellingham Crescent, Plaistow, witnessed by Detective-Sergeant Felling, CID, Offingham Constabulary. I left Middlesbrough at 11.10 p.m. on Monday August 12 with a consignment of industrial sulphuric acid for Simper and Parkes of Croydon. I proceeded through Stockton to Darlington and continued down the A1 till I passed the turning to Offingham, which would be at about 4.30 a.m. on Tuesday August 13th. It was beginning to get light, and I thought I would pull up at the lay-by between Offingham and Baddesley for refreshment and a nap. As I came up to it I noticed a green Commer 10-cwt. van already parked there. I pulled in behind it.

Because even the Great Road has its moments of quietness, when the traffic strangely fades, as though an hour had struck which was uncanny for it. It happens at dawn, at the beginning of light, and lasts for a while after sun-up, when the night drivers are resting before the early drivers set out. Then, for a space, the Road is spellbound in that greyish, brooding light; the bruised surface lies deserted, like a fairground when the crowds have gone; sparrows chip along the verges, rattle the paper which wrapped sandwiches; a pheasant may strut in the yellowish field, there is even dew on the dusty hedges. And a solitary car – who is driving now? – scuttles along like a guilty animal, hastening to find a town or village to protect it with their walls.

And Robert Goodings finds a lay-by between Offingham and Baddesley, perhaps the only lay-by on the Road beyond sight and sound of any dwelling. Across the fields, three miles away, rise the pastelled cones of Bintly Power Station; to the south of them, still a long way off, the slant grey roof of an aircraft hanger; up the road, two miles, a drab ribbon called Everham; down the road, out of sight round a bend, a forlorn roadhouse called The Raven. As lonely a spot, as lonely a time as the Great Road can show. When Robert Goodings pulled in his Bedford behind the silent green Commer.

Another bloke taking a spell: that was what Robert Goodings thought. He got down stiffly out of his cab, found a gap in the hedge, relieved himself. Then he stretched his arms, did a knees bend, did some feeble running-on-the-spot; spit a couple of times into the hedge, and climbed back into the cab. He carried a snap-tin and a Thermos. They had both been filled at a caff in Middlesbrough. Tea – the caff made coffee that tasted of mud – and corned beef sandwiches, larded with mustard. He ate drowsily, thinking of nothing, staring at the back of the green van: glad only to have got to a quiet pull-in after shoving the Bedford all night. But he was noticing, though he wasn’t thinking. He was noticing a stain on the concrete by the van. What was the geezer carrying – meat? It looked as though the stuff had begun to drip. He went on eating. He stopped noticing the stain. He noticed the paintwork of the van instead. It had taken a beating, that paintwork had, and there were holes in the panels, too. Holes? His jaw came to a stop. Yes, it was like a blinking sieve. A lot of little round holes punched through it, the paint all cracked away round them. Robert Goodings didn’t move for some moments. A car went heedlessly by on the Road.

Report by Detective-Sergeant Felling, CID, Offingham Constabulary. As a result of a telephone call at 5.12 a.m. on Tuesday August 13th, I proceeded with Detective-Constables Rice and Freeman to the lay-by on the A1 road half a mile north of The Raven roadhouse. I was met there by Robert Arthur Goodings, a truck-driver, who had made the call. I saw there a green Commer 10-cwt. van, Registration Number 525 UAX, the property of Timoshenko Teodowicz, a registered alien residing at 3 Shorters Lane, Offingham, parked in the lay-by. The van was damaged, apparently by extensive fire from an automatic weapon. In the driving seat of the van was the body of a man with multiple bullet wounds. He was aged about fifty, about six feet in height, dark brown hair, pale grey eyes (apparently), and of powerful build. He was wearing a stained khaki jacket without shirt or vest and stained khaki drill trousers. From my personal knowledge I can identify him as Timoshenko Teodowicz, the owner of the van. I have recorded the dead man’s fingerprints for comparison with those in the registered alien file (attached).

Statement by Ove Madsen, truck-driver, 39, of 3a Shorters Lane, Offingham, witnessed by Detective-Sergeant Felling, CID, Offingham Constabulary. I am a Naturalized Englishman of Norwegian parentage. I am part owner of the transport business which was conducted by the dead man, Timoshenko Teodowicz, whose body I have seen and which I can identify. On Sunday August 11th I left Offingham at 10.45 p.m. with a consignment of electrical parts for John Mackenzie, Clydeside Quay, Glasgow, and I spent the night August 12th–13th at a lodging house at 57 Lockerbie Street, Clydebank (confirmed by Clydebank Cons., D.-S. Felling). I loaded a quantity of strip steel at Govan Mills, Govan and proceeded back to Offingham, arriving at 1 p.m. on Wednesday August 14th. I do not own a firearm. I do not and have never owned an automatic weapon. I do not and have never owned a Sten gun. I do not know of anybody owning a Sten gun. I do not know who would wish to kill Teodowicz. I do not know that I can benefit in any way by his death. I have to report that Teodowicz was visited on Saturday August 10th, at about 3.30 p.m., at our garage in Shorters Lane, by a man who spoke to him in Polish, and whom he took upstairs into his rooms, and who remained there about 30 minutes. I do not know this man. I did not pay much attention to him, only to him speaking to Teodowicz in Polish. He was about middle height, he was dressed neatly, I think he was wearing sunglasses. Teodowicz said nothing about him. I think he may have had a limp. I was working at the bench, which is why I did not notice him. He had a quiet, cultivated voice. He was about five feet nine or ten. He may have worn a felt hat. His complexion was pale. I do not think his ears stuck out. I did not notice the cheekbones. My impression was that he had a cultivated face. My impression was that he was in good circumstances. I did not notice his manner. That is all I know about him.

Medical Report by Police-Surgeon A. S. J. Kermode MD, M.Ch., Offingham Constabulary. Subject: male deceased delivered to me on the authority of Superintendent Whitaker. Subject aged
c.
50, 6′1″ in height, in good health, limited adipose tissue. Contents of stomach suggest a meal (eggs, chips, prepared starch, coffee) 4–5 hours before death. Time of death (per r.m.) between 01.00 hrs & 03.00 hrs Tues. Aug. 13th. Cause of death: multiple shot wounds. Extensive wounding of entire system above & including pelvic area on right side. Skull collapsed. Cage of thorax partly collapsed. Extensive damage to bony structure throughout area of wounding, too widespread to detail. Right arm severed above elbow. Left forearm variously penetrated. Vital organs, stomach, bowels, extensively damaged. I recovered 67 bullets & counted 92 individual wounds. Should estimate upward of 200 rounds were fired at close range (some signs of powder tattooing, facial tissue recovered & delivered with deceased). Per r.m. deceased was killed where found, or placed there shortly after death. Comment: In 30 years experience, including war service, I have never seen gunshot injuries such as these. Suggest revenge was clearly the motive, possibly related to some war crime committed by T. in his own country.

Report by Chief Inspector Hallam, Ballistics Dept., New Scotland Yard. Subject: 86 recovered bullets & 193 detonated shells submitted by Offingham Constabulary. Identification: 9 mm. rimless Parabellum pistol cartridge ammunition mfg. by B.S.A. 1944 & 5. Comparison of rifling & breech block marks indicate ammunition fired from Mk. 2 Sten automatic carbine. Ammunition & weapon from service sources, but quantities of these weapons lost, stolen or misappropriated during war.

Interim Report by Detective-Sergeant Felling, CID, Offingham Constabulary. As a result of investigation to date by myself & Detective-Constables Rice & Freeman I have to report that we have obtained no information which might lead to the identification of the murderer of Timoshenko Teodowicz. The search of the premises in Shorters Lane undertaken by us brought to light nothing of significance. We have been unable to find witnesses to testify to seeing anything suspicious in the neighbourhood where the crime was committed, or to hearing shots fired at the relevant time on Aug. 13th. According to Sheila Packman, waitress employed at The Blue Bowl Café, High Street, Offingham, the deceased called there, alone, at about 9.30 p.m., on Aug. 12th, and left when the café closed at 10 p.m., having ordered coffee, driving off in his van in the direction of the A1. We have been unable to find any witness who saw him later than this. We have been unable to trace the man said by Madsen to have visited Teodowicz. We have been unable to trace any connection between Teodowicz and two other men of Polish origin living in this area. We have been unable to trace any friends or intimate acquaintances of Teodowicz who (according to Madsen) lived very much to himself. We have questioned the three women indicated by Madsen as occasionally associating with Teodowicz (Frieda Hixon, Dolly Catchpole, Sybil Wright), but none of them admit having seen him later than Aug. 9th (Dolly Catchpole). We have obtained no information relating to the possession of Sten guns or ammunition. Our investigations show that Teodowicz’s transport business, employing two trucks and the van, was legitimate. He ran a current account with the High Street branch of Martin’s Bank, average level 3–400 pounds, containing 322 pounds 14 shillings and 7 pence at the time of his death.

Statement by Wanda Christine Lane, Proprietress of The Raven roadhouse, nr. Broadford Turn, Everham, witnessed by Detective-Constable Rice, CID, Offingham Constabulary. The deceased was a customer of mine from time to time. I did not know him except as a customer. I did not see him on the night of Monday August 12th. I think I last saw him on Thursday August 8th at about six p.m. when he pulled in his truck and stopped for a meal. I did not hear any shots fired on the night of August 12th–13th. I had nobody staying overnight on that night. I know the deceased’s partner, who is also a customer, but I do not know their friends. They are only customers.