The Crowded Grave by Martin Walker

side of the river. It would be an extraordinary sniper who could hit something from that far away.
    Carlos moved on to the trench where Teddy had found the body. There was nothing to see, but Teddy rose from his search for the midden, stretching his back. There was no stiffness in his movements, no bulge of bandages under his jeans. He had gone to the pharmacy on behalf of somebody else.
    “I’m looking forward to the rugby to get my muscles stretched,” Teddy said, and then paused, looking at Carlos.
    “Hi, we haven’t met,” Carlos said, stepping forward to shake Teddy’s hand. “My name’s Carlos, on a liaison mission from Spain. Bruno is kindly showing me around.”
    “From Spain?” said Teddy, looking mystified.
    “Where’s Kajte?” asked Bruno.
    “Back at the camp. She’s on cooking rotation today.” His voice was normal, but there was something wary in his eyes.
    “Why are you digging so far away from the others?” Carlos asked.
    “I’m looking for the midden. Most settlements have them, if people lived there for any length of time.” He shrugged. “I’m beginning to think I may be wasting my time.”
    “I don’t think anyone at this site is wasting their time, not after last night’s lecture,” said Carlos. “Have you found anything at all?”
    “Other than the body of the murdered man, nothing I’d call significant, just some shards of modern pottery, half an old clay pipe and a few recent bones, the usual stuff you tend to find in a field.”
    “What’s that black strip in the earth, down by your knee?” Carlos asked.
    “Probably a forest fire, but it’s a bit thick for that. It could have been people making charcoal. I found some charcoal shards.”
    Bruno had had enough. “I’m afraid it’s not archaeology that brings me here. Where were you in the early hours of this morning, at about five a.m.?”
    “Asleep at the campsite,” Teddy replied.
    “And Kajte?”
    “She was asleep beside me.”
    “I’m now questioning you formally, Teddy. Think about your answer because if you lie to me, I can arrest you. Where were you at eight this morning?”
    “Going for a walk. We’d just had breakfast, all together, and I walked here.”
    “Have you got your credit card with you?” Bruno pressed. “Are you sure it hasn’t been stolen?”
    The young man took out his wallet, removed a credit card and held it up. It had been issued by Barclays.
    “That card was used this morning to buy bandages andmedical supplies at a pharmacy in Les Eyzies,” Bruno said. “Roughly three hours earlier some intruders at a local duck farm were shot at by a farmer. I found blood at the scene, and I’m pretty sure we’ll identify it as coming from your friend Kajte, just as I’m sure we’ll find the bandages you bought wrapped around her legs. Do you still want to lie to me?”
    Teddy’s mouth hung open as he fixed his eyes on Bruno. He swallowed hard, his hand tightened on the handle of his spade, then his eyes darted from side to side as if he was thinking of escape.
    “I think this young man needs a lawyer,” Carlos said.
    “He needs to answer my questions and tell the truth,” Bruno snapped, keeping his eyes on the young Welshman. “Come on, Teddy. Kajte may be more badly hurt than you know. We ought to get her to the medical center.”
    Teddy looked, almost desperately, at Carlos once more, as if in appeal. But Carlos remained silent. Teddy’s head then slumped in defeat, and he nodded, swallowed again and seemed about to speak when there was the sound of a police siren in the distance.
    “It looks like you’ll either speak to me or the gendarmes, and they’ll ask their questions in prison,” Bruno said. “Come on, man, speak up and tell me where we’ll find your girlfriend.”
    “Are you going to arrest him?” Carlos asked, a strangely hesitant tone in his voice. Bruno looked at him. “Obviously, you could and perhaps you should arrest him. But I learned long ago that one