The Purple Emperor

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

The body looked like a heap of discarded rags and didn't weigh much more as he dragged it outside. Perfect place for a murder. Not a soul about and the crows would give him warning if anybody approached, although that was unlikely.

Brimstone looked around. It was his first chance to examine his new property properly. He could go through the inside later, but just now what he needed was a toolshed. If there'd been more wine, he could have dissolved her in the bath, but the dregs in the decanter didn't look enough. (The table had fallen to pieces, though.) What he needed was a hidden grave and a stake through the heart to make sure no interfering busybody brought her back before she rotted.

He found a spade in the shed outside, grabbed his late wife by the hair and dragged her into the woods.

Light though she was, he began to tire after a few hundred yards, but fortunately found a spot beyond an ancient oak where the ground looked reasonably soft and began methodically to dig.

As the grave took shape, he let his mind turn towards the future. He was fairly sure her rotten brother would come looking for her eventually, but not before the honeymoon was supposed to be over, and probably not for a week or so after that. By then Brimstone could have the cabin looted and sold, with himself set up in a small country estate somewhere in Yammeth Cretch where he wouldn't attract too much attention from the new Emperor Pyrgus. Perfect ending to a marriage.

When the hole was deep enough, Brimstone glanced briefly down, then threw Maura in. 'So long, my dear,' he told her cheerfully. 'Don't think it hasn't been wonderful.'

He was about to fill in the grave when the crows exploded from the trees.