Kommandant Klink was in a high state of indignation as he stormed out of his office and strode across the compound towards the ranks of prisoners, calling for Schultz's report in a tone which resonated with querulous rage.
"He looks kind of upset," said Kinch, just loud enough for his immediate neighbors to hear. "You guys didn't leave any incriminating evidence near the bridge, did you?"
"You think we're stupid? Of course not," replied LeBeau. "It must be about something else. Maybe he found out Mills wasn't where he was supposed to be."
Hogan glanced across towards the block of men from Barracks 18. Mills had found his place at the end of the front row, apparently without being caught en route. If all this was simply because he'd been missed, it should be easy enough to gloss over. But the shrillness of Klink's voice, and the hunching of his shoulders, suggested it was something bigger.
"All present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant." Schultz made an effort to sound assertive, a target he invariably failed to reach. But Klink just waved him aside, and glared around at the prisoners, his eyes finally fixing on Hogan.
"I have just had a report from Sergeant Kraus," he announced. "It seems that during the night, someone, or several someones, made an unauthorized visit to the officers' mess, and stole several bottles of schnapps, cognac and Apfelmost."
A murmur of surprise rippled along the ranks of Barracks 2, as they realized that, for once, some other barracks was responsible. But Klink's tirade continued without a pause. "You all know the penalties for theft, and for being out of your barracks after lights out, and for possession of alcohol. The men responsible for this outrage, take two steps forward."
"If they drank any of that apple wine, they've been punished enough," muttered Newkirk.
Hogan's voice was like ice. "Oh, no, they haven't. Right now, the last thing we need is a bunch of cowboys going into business for themselves. They're not just in trouble with Klink. Once he's finished with them, they still have to face me."
"Well, whoever they are, they aren't busting to get it off their conscience," said Kinch, when almost half a minute had passed, without any of the prisoners moving. "I guess Klink wasn't exactly encouraging - take two steps forward, and keep going, straight to the cooler. I wouldn't be putting my hand up, either."
"And we all know what comes next, don't we?" Hogan added. "'If the criminals responsible do not step forward...'"
"...all privileges will be suspended, all prisoners will be confined to barracks, and the entire camp will be searched." Klink had started speaking almost in unison, and finished with the usual threats.
"You'd think they'd get bored, tearing the place apart and never finding anything," remarked Newkirk in resigned accents.
"Yeah, maybe we ought to leave something lying around for them some time, just so they don't lose interest," said Carter, with a nervous giggle.
Hogan looked across at Mills again, and his eyes narrowed. Mills was staring at him, as close to consternation as anyone here had yet seen him. His gaze flickered towards the Kommandant. A moment later, he squared his shoulders and took two steps forward.
Hogan bit back an exclamation, partly of astonishment, mostly of vexation.
"What's he doing?" asked Kinch. "There's no way he could have been breaking into the officers' mess last night."
"I don't know," replied Hogan. "But I intend to find out."
Klink was already advancing on Mills. "So, one of our new prisoners. Apparently you didn't pay attention to the warning I gave you when you arrived. You'll have plenty of time to think about it, in the cooler. Who else was involved?"
Mills replied too quietly, and was too far away, for Hogan to hear, but his answer was pretty easy to guess: "Nobody."
"Don't try to protect them," thundered Klink. "I mean to get to the bottom of this outrage. Who were the others?" This time Mills didn't reply at all, and after an increasingly tense silence, Klink turned to Schultz. "Take him to my office for interrogation. The rest of the prisoners will stay on formation, unless anyone else wants to confess to their part in this."
He waited just long enough to be sure nobody was going to take up the invitation, then turned on his heel and stalked after Schultz and Mills. Hogan turned up his collar, and followed.
Klink didn't even notice him at first. He removed his coat and hat and hung them on the stand, then strode around the desk and sat down. "Now, sergeant...?" He paused, searching his memory for the name of this new and unfamiliar prisoner.
"Mills," said Hogan, in his most helpful manner.
"Thank you, Hogan, that's very...Hogan! You're supposed to be on formation with the other prisoners."
"Am I? Gosh, I didn't realize that included me," remarked Hogan. "You know, Kommandant, if you want us to know what your orders mean, you gotta make 'em clearer."
"My orders are perfectly clear. You just choose to disregard them." Klink glared at him. "Sometimes I think you forget who's running this camp, Hogan."
"Oh, I don't think there's any doubts about that, sir."
Schultz gave a soft, half-suppressed snicker, but Mills had withdrawn into himself again, and his expression was unreadable.
"Well, now we've cleared that up, you can take yourself off to where you're supposed to be," said Klink testily.
"Actually, sir, I'm supposed to be right here. Regulations state that you can't question one of my men unless I'm present."
"I know what the regulations are. Very well, stay, but no interruptions. Now, Mills, start talking. Who are your fellow criminals, and what did you do with all those bottles?" Klink waited for a response, then abruptly stood up. "Answer me," he barked, slamming his fist on the desk.
It would have been much more intimidating, if he'd been able to suppress the grimace of pain which followed it. He uttered a faint whimper, pressed his lips tightly together, and stuck his bruised hand under his other arm. Mills had flinched at the unexpected outburst, but made no other response. He kept his lips tightly closed and his eyes lowered.
"This is foolishness," Klink went on, his voice a little strained. "Do you think we won't find out, sooner or later? Your friends will be caught and punished, and your silence won't help them. Furthermore, until the culprits are identified and the stolen alcohol recovered, I will have to impose punishment on the entire camp. How do you think the innocent majority will feel about that? And I think we all know who they're going to hold responsible for it."
"Yep, you're right, Kommandant," said Hogan. "They'll blame you."
"Exactly. They'll blame...Hogan!"
"Look, sir, I know how you hate it when the fellers are mad at you," Hogan went on, without missing a beat. "But you can't expect Mills to squeal on his pals, just to save you from a few dirty looks."
"Hogan, keep out of this." Klink's tone wavered between menace and fretfulness. "Mills, I'll ask you again. Who else was involved?"
"Nobody," replied Mills.
"And what about the loot - that's what you Americans call it, am I right? Where is it?"
"I don't remember."
"You don't remember? You broke into the officer's mess and single-handedly made off with nine bottles of spirits, and you don't remember where you left them?"
"Maybe he drank them, Herr Kommandant," suggested Schultz.
"Ah, shut up." Klink pointed towards the door. "Take this man to the cooler. Maybe a few days of solitary confinement will improve his memory."
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." Schultz gestured for Mills to go ahead, and escorted him from the office.
The Kommandant turned his attention to his opposite number. "As for you, Hogan..."
"Smart move, sir," Hogan broke in, before Klink could get into his stride. "I gotta hand it to you, when it comes to understanding psychology, you're the tops."
Brought up short, Klink immediately lost the thread of the admonishment he'd been about to deliver. "I am? Yes, I suppose I am," he murmured, after a few seconds.
"It hurts to admit it, but in all honesty, the way you handled Mills was masterful. You knew right off there was no way he'd squeal on his buddies," Hogan went on. "Not to you, anyway. But give him a couple of hours to think it over, and I might just be able to convince him to talk. That way you'll get your answers without Mills having to turn snitch."
"Snitch?"
"You know, a sneak. A blabbermouth. Tattle-tale, stool pigeon, fink, squealer... "
"You mean, an informer?"
"Isn't that what I said?"
Klink took his monocle out of his eye, and began to polish it. "I see what you're getting at. You think Mills won't want to be known around the camp as a - a snitch..."
"That's right, sir."
"...so you are going to become one yourself. Why would you do that?"
"For the sake of all the other men in camp. I don't want all of the prisoners to suffer, just because a couple of them did the wrong thing." Hogan sighed, the picture of earnest regret at a painful necessity.
A few moments of silence ensued, while Klink thought about it. Then he replaced his monocle. "Very well, Hogan. I'll allow you to speak to Mills, once he's had some time to reflect on his situation. But you'd better get the truth out of him."
"Oh, I will, sir. But in the meantime..."
"In the meantime," Klink interrupted, "my guards will search every barracks, and if they find any contraband, there will be serious consequences. Dismissed."
There was little more Hogan could do here. He saluted and left the office. The prisoners were still on formation, so he went back to join his men outside Barracks 2.
"Got it sorted, Colonel?" murmured Newkirk.
"Not yet. But I think I've made a start," said Hogan, his eyes narrowing as a squad of guards raced across the yard towards Barracks 18 to start the search Klink had promised.
His gaze turned towards the cooler. Within the next couple of hours, he'd be allowed to talk to Mills. And this time, he meant to get some answers.