A Study in Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

“What is the meaning of it, Watson?” he had exclaimed, not for the first time. Peering into the darkest corners
of the human soul often caused him to recoil in revulsion at the depravity of his fellow man. “What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end,
or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable. But what end? There is the great standing perennial problem to which human reason is as far from an answer as ever.”’
    ‘Oh, for all that is merciful, man, do be quiet.’
    The sudden exclamation, blurted into the cathedral-like space, did, indeed, shock Watson into silence.
    ‘Can we double back through here to the village?’ asked Hanson, pointing to the north.
    Shocked by this sudden volubility, Watson began to answer, ‘That’s not a good idea. There have been incidents—’
    ‘Don’t worry about that. Give me a hand with my coat.’
    Watson instinctively helped Hanson shuck his greatcoat. He held it while the man took off his boots and lowered his trousers.
    ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘Doing? What do you think I am doing?’ echoed Hanson, his voice still carrying a trace of Cornish burr. ‘Getting out of this godforsaken place.’
    ‘You can’t do that.’
    Hanson turned the trousers inside out. Now, the dark stripe that marked him out as a POW had disappeared. He quickly pulled them back on and buttoned up the fly.
    ‘Can’t?’ He took the British Warm back from Watson and began to turn that, too, inside out. The interior had been dyed a dark navy blue. From the lining came a civilian hat,
which he placed on his head. ‘I have a map, a train timetable, money. Documents. I came to Krefeld fully prepared for this. Good Lord, do you know how close the Dutch border is?’ He
pointed a finger east.
    ‘It’s that way,’ corrected Watson. ‘You’d need a compass. But even if you had one, that border is impenetrable on this side. Men have tried for nigh on three
years—’
    Hanson was in Watson’s face now, so close he could feel his breath on his cheek. ‘Men haven’t tried hard enough. I risked being shot to get myself to this, this
health
resort
. You don’t know what the rest of the camps are like.’
    Watson was only too aware how cushy they had it at Krefeld, but didn’t stoop to arguing with the man. ‘Then stay where you are. The war will be over—’
    ‘Ah, you’ve gone soft, man.’
    As Hanson wriggled his arms into the coat, Watson grabbed the sleeve. ‘I gave my word.’
    ‘I didn’t,’ Hanson reminded him.
    ‘I gave it on your behalf.’
    Hanson laughed at him. ‘Oh, please.
Por procreation
or whatever it was? You’re not still clinging to some outmoded notion of honour, are you? A gentleman’s word is his
bond and such rot? If that isn’t dead already, it’s busy dying out there in the trenches amid the gas and the flamethrowers. Honour? There’s no honour in this war.’
    Watson felt a flush of anger. He gripped the man’s arm harder. ‘There has to be. There has to be some shred of honour left. Anyway, if you go running off, you’ll be captured
within three or four hours . . .’
    ‘Let go of me.’
    ‘. . . and you’ll be denying scores of men this small freedom. These walks keep some of them sane. It’s why I brought you out here.’ Although, he now appreciated, Hanson
had duped him on that score. The suicide attempt, like the phoney shell shock he had affected, had clearly been a bluff to make him seem a suitable candidate for these therapeutic walks. ‘You
think after you break the trust they’ll let anyone leave the camp—’
    The fist took Watson by surprise. The blow was an awkward one, without the full body weight behind it, but still it felt to Watson as if he were lifted off his feet as he was dashed against a
tree trunk. His head spun and for a second he thought he might vomit.
    ‘Look, old man, tell them I overpowered you. That’ll be a nice shiner by tomorrow. I