Death In Captivity by Michael Gilbert Page A

sort of thing – is to contact you.’
    ‘Yes – but—,’ said Goyles. He was trying hard to see himself in the role of special investigator.
    ‘Of course, I’ll do anything I can,’ he added, ‘only don’t hope for too much. Have you got any general idea about it all – I mean, it seems quite crazy.’
    ‘On the face of it,’ said Colonel Shore, ‘it is crazy. That’s what ought to make it easy to solve. If it was ordinary, there might be half a dozen solutions, and you could never be sure that you’d get hold of the right one. With a crazy problem like this, if you can find any solution at all, it must be the right one.’
    ‘Something in that,’ said Commander Oxey. He had a deep respect for the American’s intellect – a respect based subconsciously on the fact that Colonel Shore looked like Gary Cooper, who was the only American film star of whom the Commander approved.
    ‘We were talking about it when you came in,’ said Baird. ‘We hadn’t got very far, but for what it’s worth you can have it. We thought that the general idea – the shape of the thing – was that Coutoules was an Italian informer. We thought that either there were people in the camp who knew a lot more about this than we did, or else – it would amount to the same thing in the end – who thought they knew a lot more than we did. They get together – it must have been four of them at least – and kill Coutoules quietly – by tying a wet towel over his face, or holding his head in a pillow or something of that sort. Then they do more or less what we did in the other tunnel – open it up, drag him down, and pull a bit of the roof down on top of him – having first filled his mouth with sand.’
    ‘What about what the doctor said – about him having been alive under the sand, and trying to scratch his way out?’
    ‘It’s not a pretty idea at all,’ said Baird. ‘But having gone that far is there any reason they shouldn’t have gone a bit further, and faked that detail too, after he was dead?’
    ‘I suppose not,’ said Goyles doubtfully. ‘I take it this means they must have been people out of our hut.’
    ‘Not necessarily. They must have known how the tunnel worked, but they needn’t necessarily have been from the hut itself. People wander in and out of each other’s huts pretty freely, don’t they, till lock-up time?’
    ‘Do you know,’ said Goyles, diffidently but firmly, ‘I don’t believe it.’
    Colonel Baird and Commander Oxey looked quietly up at him, and Colonel Shore said, ‘No? Tell us why, then.’
    ‘It just doesn’t seem to me to be the sort of thing that could have happened, sir. I don’t believe that any group of people could have got Coutoules off somewhere, and killed him, and taken him into Hut C, and put him down the tunnel, and – and done all the other things you mentioned, sir – without someone knowing about it. Why, you can’t blow your nose in this camp without at least three people coming along in the course of the day and saying how sorry they are to hear you’ve got a cold. As for murdering someone and hiding the body – it’s just not on.’
    ‘Right,’ said Baird. He didn’t sound annoyed, only interested. ‘What’s your idea?’
    ‘I haven’t got an idea yet,’ said Goyles, ‘but I’ve got a question that I think wants answering. It seems to have escaped notice in the general excitement, but it’s just this. Why wasn’t Coutoules missed on roll-call that morning?’
    This took a moment or two to sink in. Then Colonel Shore slapped his leg softly and said, ‘That’s quite a point, isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Commander Oxey. ‘Why wasn’t he missed? What happened on roll-call that morning in our hut? You’ve got the room next to him, Baird.’
    ‘I’m trying to think,’ said Baird. ‘So far as I can remember it was an ordinary morning roll-call. They must have been a little late, because I remember I was up and dressed and I don’t get