Blackstone and the Great War by Sally Spencer Read Free Book Online Page B

of it?’
    â€˜I have a theory,’ Blackstone explained. ‘Would you mind sitting where Fortesque was sitting, so that we can test it out?’
    â€˜All right,’ Carstairs agreed, walking around the table and sitting down facing the entrance.
    â€˜I won’t be a moment,’ Blackstone told him, opening the door and stepping out into the trench.
    The bombardment had stopped, and the soldiers were squatting on the duckboards, eating the breakfasts which had been sent up from the field kitchen. Blackstone nodded to them, but only one or two nodded back. And even then, it was a cautious nod – a nod which said, ‘Judging by the way you’re dressed, you might just be on our side – but we’re not putting any money on it.’
    Blackstone turned, opened the door again, and re-entered the dugout.
    â€˜Well?’ Carstairs demanded. ‘Are you going to tell me about this theory of yours, or must we continue playing silly bloody games?’
    â€˜If you were facing the other way – towards the back of the dugout – you might not even have noticed I’d come in,’ Blackstone said, ‘but you’re not facing the back of it – and neither was Fortesque.’
    â€˜So what’s your point?’
    â€˜You’re Fortesque, and you see an enlisted man enter your dugout without your permission. What do you do?’
    â€˜I ask him what the devil he thinks he’s doing.’
    â€˜Exactly! And what does the killer say?’
    â€˜How the hell would I know?’
    â€˜Remember, this is a major breach of protocol, so Fortesque is both outraged and on his guard. If the killer wishes to blindside him in order to deliver the fatal blow, he must first calm him down. I’m right, aren’t I?’
    â€˜Possibly.’
    â€˜So how does he go about doing that?’
    Carstairs considered the matter.
    â€˜He makes up some excuse for being here,’ he said finally.
    â€˜Like what?’
    The captain shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps he says that there’s an emergency further down the trench.’
    â€˜Wouldn’t he report that to the sergeant?’
    â€˜Normally he would, but perhaps he tells Lieutenant Fortesque he can’t find the sergeant.’
    â€˜Let’s try that theory out,’ Blackstone suggested. ‘When I next speak, I don’t want you to think about what I’ve said – I want you to react instinctively.’
    â€˜All right,’ Carstairs agreed.
    Blackstone turned away in a leisurely way, then suddenly swung round again and shouted, ‘The Huns have overrun the trench, sir!’
    Carstairs sprang to his feet immediately, then checked himself, and slowly sat down again.
    â€˜Do you see the point now?’ Blackstone asked.
    â€˜Anything that the killer said to Fortesque would have been much more likely to get Fortesque out of the dugout than the killer in,’ Captain Carstairs conceded reluctantly.
    â€˜Just so,’ Blackstone agreed. ‘But that didn’t happen, did it? What actually happened was the killer was allowed to advance.’
    â€˜You don’t know that for a fact,’ Carstairs said stubbornly. ‘The killer could well have lured Fortesque to the door, killed him there, and then put him back in the chair.’
    â€˜So Fortesque walks over to the door and turns sideways on, in order to allow the killer to hit him on the side of the head?’
    â€˜He could have been distracted. The killer says, “What’s that on the wall?” Fortesque turns his head, and the killer strikes.’ Carstairs smiled triumphantly. ‘Your problem, Blackstone, is that you just don’t think things through.’
    â€˜You said there were several blows to the head, didn’t you?’
    â€˜Yes, of course, but  . . .’
    â€˜I think if I’d received a sharp blow to the head, I’d probably keel over, fight back,