chapter-2

Chapter 2. My journey to the north was quite pleasant. It was a fine May day, with flowers blooming

everywhere. Why did I stay in London and not see this beautiful country? I thought to myself.

At lunchtime I bought a sandwich and a newspaper. I read the sports news,

and news about British soldiers going to south -east Europe. Then I got out Scudder's notebook and

studied it. He had filled it with numbers, and occasionally there were some names. For example,

I found the names Hofgard, Lunavil, and Avocado often. Pavia was the name I saw the most.

I was certain that Scudder had used a code in the notebook. I have always been interested

in codes. I am good at things like chess and puzzles. This one looked like a number code,

where groups of numbers matched letters. I focused on the words in the notebook because

if you can find a key word, you can find the order of the letters.

I tried for hours, but none of the words helped me. Then I fell asleep and woke up at Dumfries.

I quickly got out of the train to catch the local train to Galloway. There was a man on

the platform. I was worried about him at first, but he never looked at me. When I saw myself

in a mirror, I understood why. With my brown face and old clothes, I looked just like one of the

hill farmers. On the local train, I travelled with a group of hill farmers. The train moved

slowly into the valleys, and then to a great wide moor. There were lakes and I could see the blue

mountains to the north. It was now five o 'clock. The carriage was empty and I was alone. I got out

at the next station. It was a small place in the middle of the moor. An old man was digging potatoes

in the garden. Then he walked to the train, took a parcel and went back to his potatoes.

A child took my ticket. I walked out of the station onto a white road across the brown moor.

It was a beautiful spring evening. The sky was clear and the fresh air of the moor made me feel

quite happy. I felt like a young boy on a holiday, not a man of 37 who was wanted by the police.

I walked along the road whistling. After some time I turned to a path along a little stream.

I was getting hungry and tired. Then I came to a small house. A woman was standing by the door.

She was kind. She told me I could sleep in the loft and she gave me a good meal with eggs,

scones and milk. Her husband came in the late evening. We talked about cattle and markets.

At ten o 'clock I went to bed. I slept until five o 'clock. They gave me breakfast and did not let

me pay any money. I left at six o 'clock and started walking again. I wanted to get to the railway

line and find a different station. Then I would go back to the east towards Dumfries. That would be

the safest for me. The police would think I was going to the west to escape by ship.

It was the same beautiful spring weather and I felt relaxed and happy. The birds were singing

and I could see the green fields filled with young lambs. My life was not dull anymore.

After some time I reached the railway line. Then I found the station, which was perfect for my plan.

It was in the middle of the moors and had a single line. I waited until I saw a train coming

and bought a ticket. There was only an old farmer and his dog in the carriage. The man was asleep

and on the seat next to him was a newspaper. I picked it up. There was an article about the

Portland Place murder. Pada could call the police and the milkman had been arrested. They had let

him go in the evening. The police believed that the murderer had escaped from London on a train to

the north. I put the paper down. I noticed that we were stopping at the station where I had gotten

out yesterday. Three men were talking to the old man who was digging potatoes. One of them was

taking notes so I thought they were the local police. I sat back from the window and watched

them. They asked some questions to the child who had taken my ticket. Then they looked towards the

moor and the white road as our train started moving the old farmer woke up. He looked at me and asked

me where we were. We talked for a while and then he fell asleep again.

I was going to leave the train at a station but when the train stopped by a river I decided

to get out. I looked out and saw no one. I opened the door and jumped into the bushes

but then the dog started to bark. The farmer woke up and looked out of the carriage door.

He started to shout thinking I was trying to kill myself. Quickly I crawled under the bushes.

I looked back. The train driver and some passengers were looking out of the door.

Luckily for me the old farmer suddenly fell out of the carriage. His dog jumped after him.

The man was rolling towards the water. People ran for help. The dog bit someone and there was

shouting. They had forgotten about me. I crawled away for some more time and when I turned to look

the train was moving. I was in the middle of a moor now. I could see no human beings.

There was only the sound of the river and the singing of the birds but for the first time I felt

really frightened. I was thinking of the murderers. I knew Scudder's secret and they knew this.

I looked back. The sun was shining on the railway lines and the wet stones in the water.

It was beautiful. I started to run. I did not stop until I came to the top of a hill.

I could see the whole moor and there was no one in the green fields.

Then I looked to the south and far away in the distance I saw something which made my heart jump.

Low in the sky a small plane was flying. I was sure that it was looking for me.

I hid for an hour or two. It flew in circles over the valley then it turned around and flew away

to the south. This is not the best place to hide I thought to myself. I had to find a better place.

I looked to the east and saw forests far away. I decided to go there. At six o 'clock in the evening

I entered the forest. I walked along a small white road and came to a small bridge next to a house.

A young man was sitting on the bridge, looking into the water. He was holding a book. He jumped

up when he heard my footsteps. He had a friendly young face.

Good evening, he said. It's a fine night to be traveling.

The smell of cooking came from the house.

Is that house a hotel? I asked. It is, he said politely.

I am the owner, sir. I hope you will stay the night. I've been alone for a week.

I sat down next to him. I began to think I could trust this young man.

You're young to be a hotel owner, I said. My father died a year ago. I live here with my

grandmother. It's not a job for a young man. It was not my choice. I want to write books.

You are lucky then, I said. You meet many people in a hotel. They must have lots of stories.

You can be the best writer in the world. Not anymore, he said. Maybe in the past.

A hundred years ago the people who traveled were interesting, but today only cars full of

fishermen and hunters come. You can't get any interesting stories. I want to see life

to travel the world. I've been around the world, I said. Do you think that adventure is found only

in strange places? Maybe you're sitting next to it at this moment.

Maybe, he said. I will tell you a true story, I said, and you can write a book about it.

As we sat on the little bridge, I told him my story, changing some of the details. I said that

I was a businessman doing business in Africa. I was running from some international thieves who had

killed my best friend. I told him about the Portland Place murder. The thieves were after me,

and the police were after them. This is a wonderful story, the young man said.

Do you believe me? I asked. Of course I do. I believe anything strange, the normal things

are difficult to believe. I must hide for a few days, I said. Can you help me?

He was excited. He led me to the house. You can hide here. You'll be safe.

Will you tell me more about your adventures? As I entered the hotel, I heard the sound of

an engine from far away. There in the sky to the west was the small plane looking for me.

He gave me a room at the back of the house. I never saw the grandmother. She was ill in bed.

An old woman called Margit brought me my meals. The young man went to town on his motorcycle to get

the newspaper for me. I told him to watch out for any strange people, especially cars and planes.

Then I sat down to work on Scudder's notebook. As I told you, it was a number code. I was trying

to find out the key word. I tried hundreds of words, but none of them worked. I was starting to feel

hopeless when an idea came to me. I suddenly remembered the name Julia Checheny. Scudder had

said it was the key to the Carolides business, so I tried her name as the key word. It worked.

I finally had the answer to the code. Half an hour later I was able to read Scudder's pages easily.

Suddenly I heard a car outside. Ten minutes later my friend came into the room.

Two men are looking for you, he whispered. They're downstairs having something to eat.

They asked about you. They described you very well. I told them you had stayed here last night

and had left this morning. I asked him to describe the men. One was a thin man with dark eyes,

the other was always smiling and had a lisp. They were both English. I took a piece of paper

and wrote some words in German. I wrote the words carefully and made sure they looked like a page

of a letter. Blackstone. Scudder had discovered this, but he could do nothing for two weeks.

I don't know if I can do anything now. Carolides is uncertain about his plans,

but if Mr. T wants me, I will do the best I...

Take this and tell the men you founded in my bedroom, I said. Ask them to give it to me if

they find me. My young friend went downstairs. Three minutes later the car began to move.

From behind the curtain I saw the two men. One was slim and one was fatter.

The young man came back excited. That piece of paper shocked them, he said. The thin man went

white and the fat one whistled. They paid for their lunch and left.

Now I'll tell you what to do, I said. Go to the police station. Describe the two men and tell

them you think they may be the London murderers. The two men will come back tomorrow to find out

more about me. Tell the police to be here early in the morning. My friend went away and I worked

on Scudder's notes. When he came back we had dinner together and I told him some stories about

lion hunts and the matter -bellow war. He went to bed and I worked on the notebook all night.

I could not sleep. The next morning at about eight o 'clock three policemen arrived,

they hid their car and entered the house. Twenty minutes later another car came and

stopped in the woods, two hundred meters away from the hotel. The two men walked to the hotel.

I had planned to hide in my room and wait but now I had a better idea. I wrote a note of thanks to

my young friend, opened the window and quietly jumped out. I walked to the car in the woods,

got in and drove away. I drove the car as fast as I could over the more roads.

I kept looking over my shoulder nervously and I kept thinking of what I had found in the notebook.

Scudder had told me nothing but lies. His stories about southeast Europe and

Carolides and people who wanted a war were lies but there was something in the notebook

and I believed it. The 15th of June was going to be an important day. It was even bigger than the

murder of a prime minister. The story in the notebook had gaps and there were things I didn't

understand. The words 39 steps appeared six times in the notes. The last time they were used

Scudder had written 39 steps. I counted them, high tide at 10 17 p .m. One thing was clear,

war was going to happen. It could not be stopped, it had all been planned. Carolides was going to

be killed and nothing could stop it. I also learned that Britain did not expect a war.

Carolides' death would start the war. Germany would pretend to be against the war. While Britain

and Germany talked about peace, German submarines would silently fill the British seas. But there

was one more thing. Nobody knew about this. But France and Britain were working together.

Their highest generals regularly met and made plans. On the 15th of June, one of highest French

officers was coming to London for a meeting. He would learn about the details of the British

Navy's war preparations. But on the 15th of June, some other people would be in London too. Scudder

did not write their names. He called them the Black Stone. They were our enemies and they wanted to

get the information about the British Navy's preparations. They were going to use this information

a few weeks later, against Britain. At first I thought about writing a letter to the Prime Minister,

but no one would believe me. I had to find some proof. But that was going to be difficult to do.

The police and the Black Stone were after me. I drove to the east through the moors,

across a river and through the trees. I saw a great castle and old villages and beautiful gardens.

It is a country in peace, I thought to myself. But in a month's time, the country will not be

peaceful any longer. Men will be lying dead in English fields. I came to a village and stopped to

find a place to eat. In front of the post office, there was a policeman reading a telegram. He looked

up at the car, raised his hand and told me to stop. I realised that the telegram was about me.

The police at the hotel had sent a message about me to the local villages. I hit the gas

and was out of the village before the policeman could get to me.

I decided not to use the main roads, but it was difficult to drive on the small roads

without a map. It was a mistucket to steal the car, I thought. The police or the Black

Stone could easily find me. If I left the car and went on foot, they would find me in an hour or two.

I came to a road along a valley and drove over the hills. Below me I could see another valley.

I thought that if I crossed it, I could find a hotel to pass the night. It was getting dark

and I was very hungry. Suddenly I heard a noise in the sky. It was that plane, about 10 kilometres

to the south, coming towards me. I knew that I was on an empty moor and I had to hide.

I hit the gas and went down the hill like lightning. Soon I was in a thick wood safe between trees.

I was going fast. Suddenly I saw a car coming towards me. I hit the brakes, but it was too late.

I turned the wheel hard and drove off the road into a hedge. My car went through the

hedge and began to fall. I jumped out of the car at the last minute. The car went into the river.

I was caught by a branch. Slowly I fell from the branch into the hedge.

As I tried to get out of there, a hand helped me out.

Are you hurt? asked a worried voice. It was a tall young man in a leather coat.

I am very sorry, he kept saying. I was not hurt or angry. In fact, I was quite happy.

I had gotten rid of the car.

It was my fault, sir, I said to him. It's lucky that no one died.

That's the end of my holiday, but I almost killed myself. He looked at his watch.

I'm in a hurry, but my house is two minutes away, he said. Let me give you some clothes,

some food and a bed. Where is your bag? Was it in the car?

It's in my pocket, I said, showing him my toothbrush. I'm from Australia, I don't

carry much luggage. Australia, he cried. You're just the man I need.

We got into his car, and three minutes later we were at his house.

It was a nice house among the pine trees. He gave me one of his suits because my clothes

were falling apart. Then he gave me some food.

You've got five minutes to eat, he said. We'll have supper when we come back.

I have to be at a meeting at eight o 'clock. I'm a candidate for the election,

Mr. You haven't told me your name. It's Twizden, I said.

Well, Mr. Twizden, I'm a candidate, and I have a meeting tonight in my town.

I had asked Crumpleton, the Australian X Prime Minister, to speak at the meeting.

But this afternoon he sent me a message. He caught the flu and can't come.

Now I've got to speak for 40 minutes. I don't know what to do.

Mr. Twizden, can you help me? Can you talk about Australia for a few minutes? I'll be so happy.

I did not know much about Australia, but I needed his help.

All right, I said. I'm not a very good speaker, but I'll tell them a little about Australia.

He was very happy. He thanked me, and we got in the car.

As we drove to the meeting, he told me about his life.

He was an orphan, and his uncle had brought him up. I've forgotten the uncle's name,

but he was in the government. He had left university and traveled the world.

When he came back, he did not have a job, so his uncle told him to go into politics.

He did not know anything about politics, but he was a very nice young man.

We were passing through the town when two policemen stopped us.

Excuse us, sir, Harry, said one. We are looking for a car. Your car matches the description, so we stopped you.

Good night. I thought I was lucky, but I still had to make a talk, and I had to find something to say.

We arrived at the place of the meeting. There were about 500 people in the hall. They announced

that Crumpleton could not come, but I was there as a trusted leader of Australia.

Then Sir Harry started to speak. He was a very bad speaker. He kept forgetting his words,

looked at his notes and paused many times. He talked about the war and said we did not need

new warships because Germany did not want a war. Germany and Britain would work together for peace.

I thought about the little black notebook in my pocket when Sir Harry was finished,

it was my turn to talk. I was not a good speaker either, but I would be better than him.

I told them everything I knew about Australia. I said it was important for Britain and Australia

to work together. In the end I think my speech was quite successful. Sir Harry was very happy on

the way back to his house. It was a great speech, Twistan, he said. Now, you must stay with me for

a few days. We'll go fishing together. We had a good supper, then we sat in front of the fireplace

and had coffee. I should tell the truth now. I thought to myself, I knew that I could trust this man.

Listen, Sir Harry. I said, I've got something important to tell you. You're a good man and I'm

going to be honest. Your talk tonight was terrible and dangerous. Was it so bad? He asked. I wasn't

very happy with it either. I read it all in a magazine. Do you think Germany would start a war

with us? You will know the answer to that question in six weeks, I said. If you have half an hour,

I'll tell you a story. I can still remember that bright room with the deer's heads and the old

pictures on the walls. Sir Harry, standing by the fireplace and me sitting in an armchair,

telling him everything. It was the first time I had ever told the truth to anyone.

It felt good. I told him every detail. Scudder, the milkman, the notebook, and galloway.

So you see, I said in the end, I'm the man that the police want for the Portland Place murder.

You should call the police. I can't get too far. They will arrest me and a few hours later,

someone will kill me. What was your job in Africa, Mr. Hane? He asked.

Mining engineer, I said. You must have strong nerves to do that job. I laughed.

Oh, I have strong nerves, I said. I took down a knife from the wall, threw it in the air,

and caught it in my lips. He watched me with a smile. I don't need proof. You're not a murderer.

I believe you, and I'm going to help you. Now, what can I do? First, you must write a letter to

your uncle. I must speak to the government people before the 15th of June. He pulled his

moustache. That won't help you. My uncle is not interested in foreign politics. Besides,

he wouldn't believe you. No, I'll write to Sir Walter Boulevard, who works at the Foreign Office.

He's my godfather. He can help you. And he wrote the letter. He wrote that if a man named

Twizden came to him, he should help him. The man would say the words Blackstone and whistle the

song Annie Laurie. This would prove that he was really Twizden. Sir Harry gave me Sir Walter's address.

He lived in a country house in Artinswill, a small town outside of London.

What else can I do? He asked. I asked him to lend me some old clothes and to give me a map.

He brought the map, and we studied it together.

If the police come looking for me, show them the car in the river, I said. I shaved off my moustache

and put on the old suit. Then I fell asleep in the armchair. At two o 'clock in the morning,

Sir Harry woke me up. He gave me an old bicycle and told me what to do. Turn right by the wood.

In a few hours you'll be in the hills. Then leave the bicycle somewhere and walk to the moors.

You can stay with the shepherds for a week. We said goodbyes, and I started on my way.

I rode on up the hill until the sun started rising. I could see the blue sky and valleys all around me.

I sat down on top of a hill. Behind me there was the road climbing out of a river valley.

In front of me there was a flat open country. To my left and right there were green hills.

And to the south I could see the mountains far away.

A kilometer down the road behind me I saw smoke coming from a house. There was no other sign of

human life. It was now about seven o 'clock. Then suddenly I heard the plane in the air.

I looked around. I had nowhere to hide. I sat still while the sound of the plane came nearer.

It was coming up from the east. It was flying high. But then it started to come down in circles.

Now it was flying very low. I could see one of the men looking at me. Then it began to go up and

disappeared. I had to do something. My enemies knew where I was. They would come back for me.

They had seen my bicycle and they would expect me to try to escape by the road.

I rode away from the main road and found a small lake. I threw the bicycle in.

Then I climbed to a small hill and looked around.

Nothing was moving. There was nowhere to hide. As time passed the sun became hotter.

I turned north and started walking. I came to the edge of a hill and saw the road below.

Far away something was moving. It was a car. Then I looked down the valley.

Three kilometers away there were some men walking uphill.

I can't go north, I said to myself. So I decided to try the bigger hills to the south.

The car was getting nearer. I ran hard, watching the top of the hill in front of me.

Suddenly I saw some men at the top. My enemies had surrounded me. There was only one thing to do.

I had to stop moving and hide. But where could I hide in this open moor?

There was no tree, no water, nothing. Then on the road, beside some stones, I found the roadman.

He had just arrived and was working on the road. He saw me.

Why did I ever stop farming? He said. I used to be my own boss. Now I'm a slave to the government.

I am stuck here on the roadside with my hurting back and a terrible headache.

He picked up the hammer and hit a stone. He was about my size with a rough face and a pair of big

brown glasses. He had a strong Scottish accent.

I can't do it. He cried again. I'm going home to sleep.

What is wrong? I asked. Last night my daughter got married. We danced till four o 'clock.

I didn't get any sleep and I feel terrible. And the road inspector is coming today.

If he comes and finds me like this, that's bad.

If he doesn't find me, that's also bad. I'll lose my job. I had an idea.

Does the road inspector know you? I asked. No, he's new. He started last week.

Where's your house? I asked. He pointed to the small house by the stream.

Well, you go back to bed and sleep. I said, I'll do your job and see the inspector.

He looked into my face and then smiled.

Well, thank you, he said. It's an easy job. My name's Alexander Turnbull, but my friends call me

Eckie. I've been a roadman for seven years. Before that, I was a farmer for 20 years.

Be polite to the inspector and call him Sir. I'll be back in the afternoon.

I borrowed his glasses and his old hat. I gave my coat to him. He told me what to do and walked away.

Now I had to look like a roadman. I rolled up my sleeves. I put some dust on my boots.

Rolled up my trousers and put some dust on them too. Then I rubbed some dust on my face.

My boots still looked too new, so I kicked them against the rocks.

After I had a sandwich and drank some cold tea, I started working.

I carried the stones and placed them on the road. I stopped thinking about everything else

and focused on my work. As it got hotter, I began counting the hours.

Suddenly I heard a voice behind me. I turned around and saw a young man in a small car.

Are you Alexander Turnbull? He asked. I am the new road inspector, so you are working on this

part of the road. He looked at the work I had done. You are doing a good job here,

but don't forget to do the edges. Good day now. He left.

I was happy to see that the inspector thought I was the roadman. I continued working. As the

hours passed, one or two cars passed. A baker's car came and I bought some biscuits. Around noon,

a big car came down the hill and stopped. Two men got out and walked towards me.

They were the men I had seen from the window of the hotel, the thin man with the dark eyes,

and the fat man with a smile.

Good morning, said the fatter one. You have got an easy job here.

There are worse jobs and there are better jobs, I said, speaking in Turnbull's strong Scottish

accent. I wish I had your job sitting in a chair all day.

The other man was looking at my boots. He said something in German to his friend.

Then he turned to me and said, those boots are very nice. Were they made here?

No, they were not, I said. They were made in London. A gentleman who was here for hunting

gave them to me last year. What was his name now?

And I scratched my head. The fatter man said something in German. Then he said, let's go.

The other one asked one last question.

Did you see anyone pass early this morning? Someone on a bicycle or on foot? I pretended to think.

I was late today, I said. You see, my daughter got married last night and we stayed up late.

I left home at seven this morning and there was nobody on the road. And I've only seen the

baker today. They thanked me, got in the car and drove away. I was happy to see them go.

I continued carrying the stones, ten minutes later the car passed again and one of the men

had to get away. I kept working and at five o 'clock an open car came up the road and stopped a few

meters from me. The driver wanted to get some fresh air. I turned around and I was surprised.

I knew the man. His name was Marmaduke Jopli. A man I disliked very much. He spent his time

around rich people and used them to get money. He was there now in fancy clothes and a nice new car.

I ran to the car and held his arm.

Hello, Jopli, I cried. How are you? He looked frightened.

Who are you? He asked. My name's Hane, I said. From Africa, remember me?

The murderer, he cried. Yes. And there'll be a second murder if you don't do as I tell you.

Give me your coat, your hat too. He did what I asked. I put his coat and hat on. I put Mr Turnbull's

old hat on Jopli's head. I got in the car. Now, my friend, I said, I'm only borrowing your car.

Be good and sit still or I'll kill you. Understand? I enjoyed the drive.

We drove down the valley through villages. I noticed some men by the road. But they did not pay

attention to us. It started to get dark. Soon the villages were behind us. We came to a lonely

mall. I stopped the car and gave Jopli his coat and hat. Thank you very much, I said. You have

been more useful than I thought. Now go and find the police. I sat on the hillside and watched him

drive away. I thought about my crimes. I was not a murderer, but I was a liar and a cheat who stole

cars.