Free Blackstone and the Great War by Sally Spencer

prisoner he undoubtedly was – was small and thin, and was wearing a uniform which hung on him like sacking. His eyes were as large as a wild deer’s, but betrayed no great depth or intelligence. And he had what seemed to be a permanent twitch in his cheek, though – given the circumstances that he found himself in – that was only to be expected.
    â€˜Private Blenkinsop,’ Corporal Johnson announced in a loud military bawl. Then, in a much lower – and much angrier – tone, he added, ‘You’ve been playing me for the complete bloody fool, haven’t you, Mr Blackstone?’
    â€˜Have I?’ Blackstone asked.
    â€˜Bloody right you have! When we were talking earlier, you said the top brass were trying to pin the murder on somebody from the ranks.’
    â€˜Yes, I did,’ Blackstone agreed.
    â€˜And then you gave me all kinds of guff about not betraying my own kind – when all the time, you already knew that the killer was a Tommy, the lieutenant’s servant, Private Blenkinsop.’
    â€˜I didn’t know Blenkinsop was the killer at the time,’ Blackstone said. ‘As a matter of fact, I don’t know it now .’
    â€˜Then why did you tell Captain Carstairs that Blenkinsop should be arrested?’ Johnson asked, now more puzzled than angry.
    â€˜I didn’t.’
    â€˜But in the dispatch he sent to me, he said—’
    â€˜I never killed the lieutenant,’ Blenkinsop sobbed. ‘I’ll swear on a stack of Bibles that I didn’t!’
    Johnson wheeled round, and slapped the prisoner across the face.
    â€˜Shut up, you murderous little bastard!’ he screamed, and was just about to hit the man a second time when Blackstone said, ‘Corporal Johnson!’ in a commanding voice.
    Johnson swung round again, and came to attention. Then, realizing what he’d done, he relaxed his body and said sulkily, ‘What is it now?’
    â€˜You will never hit a suspect in my presence again,’ Blackstone told him. ‘Is that understood?’
    â€˜But surely, you yourself must have—’ Johnson began.
    â€˜Never!’ Blackstone interrupted him. ‘I asked you if it was understood – and I’m still waiting for an answer.’
    â€˜I suppose so,’ Johnson replied.
    Blackstone nodded. ‘Very well, you can go now.’
    â€˜You want us to take the prisoner straight back to the lock-up?’ Johnson asked, confused. ‘But we’ve only just  . . .’
    â€˜ You can go – Blenkinsop stays ,’ Blackstone told him.
    â€˜I can’t have that,’ Johnson protested.
    â€˜The war might last another two or three years,’ Blackstone pointed out. ‘You could end up having to clean out an awful lot of shit out of an awful lot of cesspits in that time.’
    Johnson sniffed – as if the smell of the excreta were already beginning to seep into his nostrils.
    â€˜I  . . . I  . . .’ he said weakly.
    â€˜Go now – and come back in half an hour,’ Blackstone said.
    Johnson still stood there, weighing his fear of Captain Huxton’s displeasure against the future that Blackstone was threatening him with.
    â€˜Have you got a gun, Inspector?’ he asked, to buy himself time.
    â€˜Now why would I need a gun?’ Blackstone wondered. ‘You won’t cause me any trouble, will you, Blenkinsop?’
    â€˜I didn’t do it,’ the private moaned, hardly aware he was being spoken to. ‘I swear I didn’t do it.’
    Johnson was still wavering.
    â€˜Cesspits, Corporal Johnson,’ Blackstone said.
    â€˜Half an hour?’ Johnson asked, defeatedly.
    â€˜Half an hour,’ Blackstone agreed.
    Johnson nodded to the other two corporals and they released their grip on their prisoner, turned smartly, and walked to the door. Denied their support, Blenkinsop seemed on the point of crumpling