18

After dinner that night, Kosef J played dice with Franz Hoss and Fabius in Rozette’s kitchen. They talked a bit about the colonel and Kosef J found out that the former was doing ‘a little better’. Then they spoke about Rozette, whose cooking had gone from good to great and excellent lately.

‘It’s because of the plates,’ Franz Hoss went ahead with an explanation.

After each had taken their turn at rolling the dice, Franz Hoss continued to expand his theory.

‘The cleaner the plates, the stronger the flavour.’

Then they rolled another round of dice. Fabius, who had started to lose lately, would comment with noticeably less enthusiasm on everyone’s score. Franz Hoss concluded his theory with the finding that everything was down to Kosef J, since it was him who’d help Rozette with doing the dishes. Kosef J was so skilled at dishwashing and he’d get the plates so impeccably clean that the food eaten off these plates would miraculously acquire an exceptionally good taste.

‘Simple, isn’t it?’ Franz Hoss summed up.

Kosef J won two games out of three. Relaxed and somewhat flustered by his victory, he steered the conversation to the topic of the prison-break that had taken place a month earlier.

Had the prisoner been caught?

No, he hadn’t.

But had the search continued at least? In Kosef J’s view it was the duty of those in charge to continue the search day and night.

No, the search had been suspended.

Why had the search been suspended? How come such an important matter was abandoned so abruptly? He, Kosef J, was of the opinion that all those who had embarked on searching for the prisoner hadn’t been following a well-designed plan.

Oh yes, they had been following a plan, in place for very many years, and which plan had been very well designed.

But hadn’t Franz Hoss himself mentioned that about ten years earlier a fugitive hadn’t been found?

Yes, Franz Hoss had indeed said that.

From this, it follows that the plan wasn’t good. He, Kosef J felt that the plan hadn’t been good enough. That all searches had been conducted in the wrong places. Those whose job was to search for the fugitive should have put themselves in his shoes.

‘Well, this is exactly what they were thinking, Mr Kosef,’ Franz Hoss burst out laughing. ‘To catch him and to put themselves in his shoes.’

Oh, no, this wasn’t a joke. He, Kosef J, meant something else. He meant that the fugitive should have been looked for in places where it would have been normal for him to hide, and, therefore, easy to find.

‘What?’ Franz Hoss snapped, staring at Kosef J.

The reasoning was very simple. There was no point searching for the fugitive everywhere. He only needed to be looked for in places that were naturally likely to offer him a perfect hideaway. In places that were plausible. Would Franz Hoss agree with this claim?

‘I would!’ Fabius gushed.

‘What?’ Franz Hoss yelled.

They had been searching for the fugitive all along the river and among the briars, for example. How long could a fugitive possibly survive while hiding by the river and among briars? Especially in winter? How long indeed?

‘Next to no time,’ Franz Hoss replied.

Or on the fields, how long could the fugitive survive while hiding in the open fields?

Not very long indeed.

Or in town! Would a remotely intelligent fugitive have hidden in town, where he could have been exposed by just about any resident?

No, not in town either. This was obvious.

In the woods perhaps? Would the fugitive have been able to survive in the woods? Or in any of the surrounding villages, or in just about any place frequented by people?

No.

Well, then?

Then what?

Well, then, which was the place, the only place where the fugitive would have been able to live and survive without being found?

‘I swear to you, I’ve got no idea,’ Franz Hoss yelled.

‘Think a little longer,’ Kosef J insisted with a sense of elation.

‘I don’t know, Mr Kosef, I really don’t. Perhaps you do, Mr Fabius?’

Fabius jumped up, frightened and somewhat embarrassed by this parade of ideas taking place just as he was losing at dice.

‘I don’t know, Mr Hoss, I really don’t.’

Well, he, Kosef J, knew, he had a firm opinion in this regard: the only place where the fugitive would have had a chance for safe hiding without being found was the prison itself.

The two guards froze for a few minutes, arms up in the air.

‘Had anyone looked for him properly in the prison?’ Kosef J asked in an inquisitive voice.

‘I hadn’t,’ Franz Hoss admitted. ‘Perhaps you had, Mr Fabius?’ he asked, turning to Fabius.

Fabius shook his head as a sign of negation, eyes fixed on the last roll of dice. Kosef J was ahead of him again, by just a single point.

‘The man could be among us,’ Kosef J uttered solemnly.

Franz Hoss looked at the clock and immediately got up from the table. He was already half an hour late. He quickly grabbed the prisoners’ dinners, loaded them on the trolley and headed off towards the pavilion.

‘You’re thinking along the right lines, Mr Kosef,’ he said on his way out.

Fabius kept on fretting for quite some time, staring at the dice. He couldn’t come to terms with the fact that after he had rolled a maximum of five times six, Kosef J also rolled five times six and now they were about to go for another round.