Illegally Dead by David Wishart

that he was murdered. The first shock was bad enough. The second...well, as you can understand I’m not thinking too clearly at present. You’ll have to make allowances.’
    Yeah. Right. Still, I’d bet good money that she was a lot more together than she was pretending to be. And there was some pretence going on here, that I’d swear to. I was beginning to have my doubts about this lady. ‘Even so,’ I said, ‘it’s been - what? - seven days now since your husband died, and up to this morning there was no word of Cosmus being missing. Now, if there was the matter of a theft and as you say you saw the kid under suspicious circumstances leaving -’
    ‘“As I say”?’ She jerked round to face me. ‘Are you accusing me of lying?’
    ‘Uh, no. Not at all. It’s just that -’
    ‘Or perhaps of murdering Lucius myself?’ She was on her feet now and glaring at me.
    Shit. No sign of fluffiness now: what we’d got was pure Amazon - she must be six foot tall in her sandals, easy - and not friendly Amazon, either. ‘Hang on, lady,’ I said quietly. ‘There’s no need for this. No one’s accusing you of anything.’
    ‘No. But they will, won’t they?’ The big hands flexed at her sides in spasmodic jerks; if this wasn’t hysteria it was the next thing to it. I wondered if I should call the slaves. ‘As far as not reporting the fact that Cosmus had gone missing is concerned, I’m sorry, however important it may be it hasn’t been up to now. Or not to me. But I’m not a fool, Corvinus, I know the boy wouldn’t have murdered Lucius unprompted, he had no cause and he didn’t have the wit. And when a man dies from poisoning his wife’s the first to be suspected, isn’t she, especially when she...when there were disagreements between them. So don’t pretend that the possibility that I’m a murderess hasn’t crossed your mind!’
    ‘Veturina, I never -’
    She held up a hand. ‘Now I want you to listen to me very carefully, please,’ she said. ‘I loved and respected my husband for thirty-six years, since the day he took me from my father’s wineshop in Bovillae. If he changed towards me - and that was only in the past year or so - then it was because he was ill. It wasn’t him any longer, not Lucius, and in his right mind he would have  despised himself for behaving as he did. I may have hated the way he treated me latterly, indeed I found it unbearably painful, but I did not stop loving him for what he had been for one single minute. Now under these circumstances if you or anyone else thinks that I could murder him then you’re totally wrong.’
    Well, if she’d been acting there then Roscius couldn’t’ve managed it better. Not that the little speech didn’t open up another intriguing avenue, mind, although in her present mood I wasn’t going to bring that up with the lady. Not yet, anyway.
    ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Point taken. Then who do you think did?’
    She held my eye for a good half minute. Then the anger and stiffness went out of her and she dropped her gaze. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘That was unfair, completely unfair. None of this is your fault, and you’ve been very kind. It’s just that somehow I feel guilty for Lucius’s death. Even although I’ve no reason to. Does that make sense?’
    ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘It makes perfect sense.’
    She’d moved across to a pedestal with a marble bust on it crowned with cypress: Hostilius himself, presumably, when he was younger. The face was strong-featured and confident. If the artist hadn’t lied, or exaggerated the way they sometimes do, he’d been a very good-looking guy who knew his own mind and took a pride in himself. Veturina rested her fingers on the bust’s shoulder, like a caress. Then she turned back to me.
    ‘The answer to your question is no,’ she said. ‘I can’t even suspect. I’m sorry again, but there you are.’
    ‘How about his partner in the firm?’ I said.
    ‘Quintus?’ Her eyes widened.