‘What are we looking at?’ Gaunt asked, still studying the various documents.
‘As far as we can tell,’ said Fazekiel, ‘there are three main areas of fraud, but there is significant overlap. First of all, there are fraudulent claims for widows’ benefit for women that don’t exist.’
‘They are all viduity allowances filled out in the names of dead troopers,’ said Hark.
‘In other words, fictional wives were being created, and paperwork retroactively completed, so that claims could be made on the names of deceased troopers,’ said Fazekiel. ‘But there are also viduity claims being made in the names of real wives and partners who are long dead. Women who died with Tanith, or on Verghast. Finally, there are real women, unmarried, like Elodie Dutana, whose identities are being used as spousal signatories. Better than an invented name, you see?’
‘The individual viduity payments are minimal,’ said Hark. ‘But together, and in such numbers, and over such a length of time…’
He stopped and rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes closed.
‘Someone is generating a significant income stream,’ he said. ‘They are defrauding the Munitorum. It’s quite possible that the Munitorum is already aware of the fraud, but it could take years, or decades, before an investigation catches up with the perpetrators.’
‘That’s probably what they’re counting on,’ said Rawne.
‘Someone is making money out of the regiment’s dead,’ said Hark, ‘from those fallen in combat, and from the civilian casualties. It’s desecration. It’s monstrous. Stealing from corpses. Robbing from graves.’
‘Do we know who’s behind this?’ asked Gaunt. His face was white with rage.
‘We’re not yet sure how the money’s being claimed,’ said Fazekiel, ‘or where the payments are put once they have been. They could be getting washed clean through the regimental accounts somehow. That would require collusion from low-grade Munitorum staffers. They could be getting laundered through gambling dens and the black market during shore leave.’
‘They could be stuffed in a musette bag under a cot,’ said Rawne.
‘We’ve got one name,’ said Hark. ‘Costin.’
‘That little bastard,’ Gaunt murmured.
‘He’s definitely involved,’ said Fazekiel. ‘But Hark and I don’t think he could have done this on his own. We suspect he has co-conspirators. And one of them might be quite senior.’
‘It’d be hard to run this without a friendly officer to sign off the occasional card or petition,’ said Ludd.
‘Years ago,’ said Gaunt, ‘I nearly executed Costin.’
‘Aexe Cardinal,’ Rawne nodded.
‘Drunkard. Idiot,’ Gaunt hissed. ‘He got men killed. Most of Raglon’s platoon. I showed him mercy instead. Damn him.’
‘We have a number of reports of Costin being conspicuously wealthy,’ said Fazekiel. ‘Off duty, he’s always got money for good drink, good food, money to gamble. He gets his hands on better amasec than the senior staff.’
‘He didn’t do this alone,’ said Gaunt. ‘Who does he associate with?’
‘Gendler,’ said Hark.
‘Meryn,’ said Rawne.
‘But we’ve nothing on either of them,’ said Fazekiel. ‘Costin’s the only one with ink on his hands, and even then, it’s circumstantial. We haven’t interviewed. We haven’t interrogated.’
‘No interviews. I want to give the order for punishment execution,’ said Gaunt. Ludd didn’t think he’d ever seen such bitten-back fury in Gaunt before.
‘I don’t want to execute our only lead,’ said Hark, ‘even to make an example of him.’
‘And do we want that kind of example a few hours before a raid?’ asked Fazekiel.
‘He’s not walking away from this,’ said Gaunt. ‘Nobody involved in this is going to escape punishment.’
‘I’m not suggesting they should,’ said Hark, ‘but I think we should make a move after the raid. If we execute Costin, or this comes out, it could destroy morale.’
‘The only reason for keeping that little ghoul alive,’ said Rawne quietly, ‘is to crack him. With your permission, I’ll get the truth out of him.’
Hark and Gaunt exchanged glances.
‘It’s the best way,’ said Rawne, ‘seeing as this was all my idea.’
He glanced up, scornful of the horror on their faces.
‘Relax,’ he said. ‘I didn’t do it. But the idea was mine. Years ago, just after we left Tanith behind. I remember getting drunk with Corbec and Larkin one night, joking how we could make a killing from the dead. It became a regular gag, how we could compensate ourselves for having such a fething shit existence by claiming for the lives lost on Tanith. In time, it turned into a standing sick joke, gallows humour. Never thought anyone would be so twisted they’d actually try it. I don’t think anyone even thought I was capable, and that’s saying something.’
Gaunt took his cap off and combed his hair back with his fingers.
‘Do it,’ he told Rawne. ‘Whatever it is you do. I want to know who Costin’s in bed with. Do you want us to look the other way, or would you like our help holding him down?’
Rawne shook his head.
‘I can do it. I can put the fear of the Throne in him, and make him give up his confederates. And you won’t have to look the other way. I’m not even going to touch him. It’ll just take a word in his ear. Well, two words, actually.’
‘I won’t ask what they are,’ said Fazekiel.
Gaunt picked up one of the documents from the table.
‘The only reason I spared Costin on Aexe Cardinal was because Dorden pleaded with me,’ he said.
He showed Rawne the paper.
It was a viduity form filled out to benefit Dorden’s long-dead wife on Tanith.
They were six hours out. Ship bells rang to mark the half-hour. For the last two hours, there had been a regular series of thudding, tapping sounds. Debris from the immense Salvation’s Reach junk belt was growing so thick it was bouncing off the Armaduke’s shields.
The regiment was almost battle-ready. There was a tension in the air like an electrical charge. Gaunt summoned the entire strength to the main excursion deck, and ordered the retinue in too. There was no formal order, no regularised ranks or echelons. The regimental assembly simply stood in a group facing Gaunt. All the Ghosts had stopped their preparation work to attend. Some had only half kit, or their hands were dark with gun grease. The women and children gathered in around the crowded deck. Gaunt saw Tona with Dalin and the little girl. Curth and Kolding arrived from the infirmary with Dorden. The old man, his skin the colour of ash, insisted on walking.
‘You should be resting,’ Gaunt said.
‘What for?’ asked Dorden.
‘I still think–’
Dorden shook his head.
‘Ana has administered a very strong opiate, Ibram,’ he said. ‘I find I can get out of bed and walk about. I’m not going to miss this. In fact, I have no intention of missing anything from now until I’m done.’
‘I could order you to your bed,’ said Gaunt.
‘And I could disobey you,’ replied Dorden. ‘What would you do then? Shoot me?’
Gaunt laughed. Curth and Kolding were both trying not to smile, though Gaunt could tell that Curth was simultaneously riven with sadness.
‘I just want to say–’ Gaunt began.
‘If it’s goodbye,’ said Dorden, ‘I don’t want to hear it.’
Some of the ship’s crew, including several senior bridge officers, were attending the assembly too. Gaunt was about to clamber up onto a loading platform to address the crowd when the Space Marines arrived.
There was a hush. The three figures plodded into the hangar and across the deck like ogres, the crowd parting to let them through. The Space Marines had donned specialist armour that had been transferred aboard during the conjunction: ancient, ornate suits of boarding armour, precious relics from the most ancient times. Each suit of plate was decorated in the bearer’s Chapter colours. They were the engraved, polished works of master artificers, worn and gleaming, massively layered and reinforced for defence; Gothic, crested and shivering with purity seals. Each warrior carried a huge boarding shield in the form of a half-aquila. Holofurnace carried a long power spear in the other hand, Eadwine a chainsword. Sar Af’s huge right hand was free for his boltgun.