David Wishart - Illegally Dead

He grinned. So did Marilla.

‘He’s good, isn’t he?’ she said.

‘He is bloody brilliant! We can take it further, too.’

‘Can we?’

‘Yeah. Horses, mules, donkeys, no problem, anyone can get one of these at five minutes’ notice. But a cart? Uh-uh, that’s tricky, not everybody has one of these, not in town, anyway. And you couldn’t risk borrowing or hiring one, not if you were going to use it to transport a corpse, because later someone might just make the connection. On the other hand, if you’d got a cart already then — ’

‘Oh, gods,’ Clarus said softly. ‘Bucca Maecilius.’

‘Spot on, pal. At least, one gets you ten. I’d take a small side bet on his brother, mind, because he’s a farmer, but Bucca’ll do nicely to begin with.’

‘Why should Bucca kill the woman?’

I shrugged. ‘Tell me who she was and I might have an answer. In the meantime, bring those eyes and that brain of yours round to his yard tomorrow morning and we’ll sweat the bastard, together, see if he’s got answers of his own.’

‘What about — ?’ Marilla said; which was exactly when Bathyllus buttled in.

‘Dinner, sir,’ he said.

I stood up. Fair enough, sleuthing over for the day. Well, at least Meton was still alive and cooking, and after the ride into Bovillae and back my stomach thought my throat was cut.

I hadn’t mentioned it to Clarus, but after what he’d told me that theoretical complication re the Brabbii had just moved up a slot and become a definite possibility.

I met up with Clarus by prearrangement just after dawn outside the gates of Bucca Maecilius’s yard. No Marilla: if there was likely to be trouble — and trouble was a distinct possibility — then impassioned pleas, scathing sarcasm, tantrums and strident demands to be included notwithstanding the lady was out.

We went through the open gateway. No sign of the man himself, but like before there were a couple of carts parked next to the stables. I lifted the tarpaulin on one of them and Clarus took the other.

‘Corvinus?’ he said quietly.

‘Yeah?’

‘Come and have a look.’

I went over. The floor of the cart was covered in a thick layer of cement dust, like a bag of the stuff had burst and spread its contents over the width of the boards. The dust had been flattened and drawn in lines in a wide strip from the centre of the cart to the back, as if something big had been pulled out over the open tailgate.

Bull’s-eye!

‘Well done, pal,’ I said. ‘Full marks. If — ’

‘Wait.’ He reached past me to where a splinter of wood stuck out from the tailgate itself, picked something up and held it out. I looked. A single brown thread. ‘The dead woman’s tunic was brown,’ he said. ‘It could be coincidence, of course.’

Coincidence nothing, that put the lid on it for me. We’d got the bastard by the balls. ‘Let’s go inside,’ I said.

There were three horses in the stables, better-fed and healthier beasts than I’d’ve expected but no prizewinners. Bucca was lying in one of the empty stalls, snoring his head off. There was an empty wine flask in the straw beside him.

I went over, took hold of the front of his tunic and heaved him to his feet. ‘Come on, pal,’ I said. ‘Rise and shine.’

His eyes opened, then widened. ‘Corvinus?’

‘Well remembered.’

‘What the hell do you want at this time of the morning? It’s hardly — ’

‘Me and young Clarus here were interested in one of your carts. The one you used to transport that body up to Caba.’

‘Never mind the — ’ he began; and then his brain must’ve caught up with his ears because suddenly he was very, very awake indeed. ‘Oh, shit!’

I grabbed him by the sleeve as he turned to run and hauled him back, then ducked the roundhouse punch he threw and planted one of my own under his ribs. He went down gasping.

‘Did you have to do that, Corvinus?’ Clarus said.

I grinned. ‘Uh-uh. But consider the bugger subdued.’

Clarus shook his head wearily. ‘Let’s get him outside,’ he said.

We half-escorted, half-carried Bucca out of the stables to the cart and propped him against it. ‘Now, pal,’ I said. ‘Let’s have the details. Who was she, and why did you kill her?’

‘I never!’ He was still wheezing and clinging to the side of the cart for support, but he was getting his colour back. ‘Corvinus, I never touched her, I swear it! You’ve got to believe that! I don’t know who she is, either. Why should I kill a fucking woman I’ve never seen before in my life?’

‘Bucca, read my lips,’ I said. ‘In about ten minutes’ time I am going to hand you over to the town magistrates to be charged with strangling a woman, name unknown, and taking her body in this cart up to the woods near Caba, where you dumped her. This will happen, friend, whatever you say, whether you deny it or admit it or opt to stay completely silent or whistle the fifth fucking Pindaric Ode through your teeth. What happens afterwards, though, depends totally on you, now, so you had better use those ten minutes wisely. Which means in telling me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Because, sunshine, if you lie, or hide anything or even think of playing the smartass, and I find out, which I will, then so help me Jupiter I will see you nailed. Understand?’

He swallowed. ‘Yes.’

‘Good. Do you know who she is?’

‘No.’

‘Did you kill her?’

‘No!’

‘But you did transport the body to the woods near Caba and try to hide it?’

Another swallow. Then, very quietly: ‘Yes.’

‘Okay, pal. These were the only straight questions. You’re on your own now. Let’s have the story.’

He took a deep breath. ‘I…found her three days back, first thing, when I got up. She was lying over there’ — he pointed — ‘behind that pile of rubbish. She was…I could see she was dead straight off because her face…oh, gods! -’

‘Yeah. Right,’ I said. ‘Never mind that. Carry on.’

‘Can I be sick? Please?’

‘Later.’

‘I panicked. Corvinus, I fucking panicked! I told you about the people in this town and me, they wouldn’t give my version two minutes’ credence. If I’d reported her then a month down the road I’d be looking at the strangler’s noose myself, no question. So I…bundled her into the wagon, put the tarpaulin over and drove up to Caba. I knew the road up there, I go up it five, maybe six times a month, so there’d be nothing unusual about me and my cart being seen. The bit of woodland where I hid her, as well. I hauled a load of charcoal from there to Bovillae once, three years back, I thought that’d be perfect. I…drove a couple of hundred yards up the track, well out of sight of the road, pulled her out and covered her with what I could find. Then I came straight back. That’s it, that’s all that happened, I swear it!’ He looked at me wild-eyed. ‘I was desperate, right? There was nothing else I could do!’

I sighed. ‘Yeah. Yeah, okay.’

‘You believe me?’

‘I believe you. Only you’d better be telling the truth.’

‘I am! I swear I am!’

‘Fine. Let’s go, then.’

‘You’re taking me to the magistrates?’

‘Yeah. I said.’

‘But — !’

‘Look, Bucca. Whoever killed this woman and dumped her on your doorstep is no friend of yours. He’s killed once, he might decide to kill again, and you, pal, might be next on the list. So yes, I am taking you to the magistrates. Locked up safe in the town hall cellars is probably the best place for you.’

He was staring at me. ‘You think it was deliberate? I mean, choosing here?’

I shrugged. ‘Your guess is as good as mine, friend. The difference is, whether I’m right or wrong it’s no skin off my nose either way. Whereas — ’ I left the rest of it hanging.