Tango by Alan Judd

Author:Alan Judd [Judd, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781471134340
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK

Chapter 9

The cemetery gates were closed. Box was incredulous. ‘Locked. How can they be?’

‘It’s night,’ said William.

‘What’s the point of locking them at night? People might want to come here.’

‘Surely not.’

‘I bet they do.’ Box kept the headlights on them, focused like his own insistent stare. ‘It would be the one time I haven’t got my lock-picking kit.’

William asked Theresa about the gates. ‘They’re shut because too many people wish to go here at night,’ she said. ‘Homeless people and vagrants. They sleep in the tombs.’

‘I’ve never seen any homeless people in the city,’ said William. ‘Well, one, but he’s not really homeless. He has a home of his own on the beach.’

‘There used to be many but not now, not since the new government.’

‘It’s done something good, then.’

‘They disappear.’

‘We can’t sit here like this until the gates open,’ said Box.

‘Try them,’ said Theresa.

Wiliam got out and pushed at the gates. They opened.

‘Extraordinary,’ Box said as he and William closed them behind the hearse. ‘She must have some sort of sixth sense.’

‘She has a friend buried here. She knows it quite well.’

At night the cemetery was even more like a small town than during the day. The slowly traversing headlights picked out dozens of pairs of furtive green eyes.

‘You’re sure there are no guards?’ asked William.

‘Yes, I checked. There’s nowhere for them unless they live in the tombs. And now we’re in, we can’t be seen from outside. The high walls prevent that. But if we are caught we have to pretend to be tomb-robbers. Lesson there.’ He looked across at William. ‘If you’re ever caught with your trousers down and there’s no hope of innocent justification, always try to hide the greater crime behind the lesser, like adultery or something. Once they find one unsavoury explanation people tend to be so pleased they don’t look any farther.’

‘But is tomb-robbing a lesser crime?’

‘I should think so. Ask.’

Theresa shook her head. ‘It’s much more serious. No one minds about spying, especially if it’s the British.’

‘I find that hard to believe,’ said Box.

They found the right stretch of wall and then door number 1066. Its black wood was dull in the light of Box’s torch. The beams seemed unable to penetrate the gloom behind the small iron grille.

‘Is it unlocked?’ asked William.

‘Yes, yes. I checked.’ Box bent and opened the door. It creaked but not very much. His torch illuminated six coffins of the family Bustillo, piled four and two. The fourth and highest was on a level with the door. ‘If we move that on to the others, they’ll be even and we can just slide ours on top.’

‘Move it?’

‘Yes.’

Box climbed in, stepping carefully on the lower coffin. ‘Plenty of room in here.’ His voice echoed. ‘If you get in and take it from your end, I’ll manage this.’

William glanced at Theresa, who had stayed in the hearse. ‘You’re sure we’ll be able to move your coffin? It took all those soldiers and they found it heavy.’

‘No problem. We’ll unload some of it.

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