I left, or more to the point, escaped the UK leaving behind mounting debt. Which was turning my monthly pay packet into crumbs and a house that was falling down likewise. A job in which I was bullied to breaking point. I just wanted a bit of peace.
I pondered all this whilst standing in the woodland beside a gentle deserted road gazing at an arm protruding from underneath leaves, earth and bramble. My wife was still in bed so no answer. I phoned the police, pleased that there was an English option, if not my limited Turkish would have been “The trees are beautiful,” and whilst being true, this no way described what lay before me. A few neighbours passed by the road greeting me, I just kept on saying “Hot, hot, very hot.” Yep, I knew a few words and I was very hot covering the lifeless limb with my leg. In a cold sweat I thought maybe it’s just a mannequin. I touched the arm no, it was soft, phew. Maybe it’s an inflatable doll. A man’s sordid secret, buried in case his wife found out. Disgusting, I thought. I touched again, no, it’s definetely skin. I was relived, well, not exactly but I wasn’t going to be wasting police time. Out of the blue four police cars turned up with ambulances and forensics. “Merhaba, ben David, ben İngiliz, my address is…” A load of Turkish words was said by an officer that looked at me baffled. With a wave of his arm another officer whisked me away to the station. I was greeted by an officer with knowledge of English. I recounted what had happened, walking along the road seeing something odd in the bushes realised it was a hand and then phoned the police. “I see, well, thank you, if we have any further questions we will get in touch.” The elderly smiling officer got up to show me to the door. “Oh, did you touch the body in any way, I mean disturbed the crime scene?” I froze to the spot, my face twitching. “I think you better sit down.” I sat down, composed myself and prepared my defence. “So, what did you do?” His question was double loaded, was it? I summoned all the court room films I had seen. I stood up pacing the floor as if in front of an imaginary jury.
“Is that a body in the woods?” I said to the officer inquisitively. “Yes, stop wasting our time Mr. Miller, what do you want to say?” “Oh, you see (staring at the camera) I didn’t want to waste police time (I was so pleased with myself). It might not have been a body? (Gasps from the courtroom) All I saw was an arm so I checked it twice it wasn’t a mannequin (all of sudden my stunning display floundered) so that’s it.” I went to leave. “Mr. Miller, you said you checked the arm twice, yes?” “I mean it might have been a rubber doll, you know, a sex toy but it wasn’t.” “Did you check the whole body just to be sure?” “No!” No, oh god he thinks I did something terrible to a dead body or, oh no, a live body. “And how did you know it was female by just looking at the arm?” “I just thought…” “Oh did you. Okay, we will be in touch. And don’t leave town,” he said in a slight John Wayne accent.
To be continued on Saturdays…
