David Wishart - Sejanus

'But my father was exiled nonetheless.' Celsus's voice was the barest whisper.

'Sure he was, because the Wart knew he was guilty, whatever his slaves said. Which was why he brought you back to finish what you'd started.' I took a full swallow of wine. The taste didn't improve with further acquaintance. 'It was a good plan. The gamble just didn't come off. Anyway, why should you be ashamed? Filial duty's as good as any other, and better than some.' He didn't answer. 'Hey, come on. I'm right, and you know it. I've got no quarrel with you, quite the reverse. So sit down and let's talk.'

He collapsed onto the couch like a string puppet, still holding the wine cup like it was his lifeline. If I hadn't been there I suspect the poor little bugger would've been sobbing his heart out. I was almost sorry I'd come now, but I had to see this thing through.

'All right, Corvinus,' he said. 'What do you want? Money? I haven't got any, not any more.'

'No,' I said. 'I can see that. It's one reason why I didn't really believe you were one of Sejanus's cronies.'

'So if not that then what?' He was shaking so hard I could hear his teeth rattle. I doubt if I'd ever met a more complete coward. Sure, I knew what he was worried about: his father had only escaped the public executioner himself by a whisker, and if it got out now that Celsus had been involved in the conspiracy then old history or not his neck was legally forfeit. The fact that the Wart probably couldn't've cared a bust boil plaster after all this time wouldn't enter his head.

'I want information,' I said. 'Just that. Nothing more.'

He took a deep breath and emptied his wine cup at a gulp. 'Very well. What do you know already?'

'That Serenus was part of a major Julian scam to discredit Tiberius in the west. That it involved Silius the German governor, the rebels Florus and Sacrovir, and the governors of Asia and Cyrene who provided most of the cash.'

'Yes.' He looked down into his empty cup. 'Yes. Very thorough, and quite correct. In fact I doubt if I can add much more. I wasn't really all that important, you see.'

Surprise, surprise. 'Never mind. At least you can answer a few straight questions.'

'Of course. If I can.'

'Okay. First question. Your father supported Sejanus originally. Why did he switch sides?'

'Money.' Celsus gave a pale smile. 'Oh, I know I told you I hadn't got any and I wasn't lying. It's spent long ago, and it wasn't all that much to begin with. Perhaps because even more than he liked money Father enjoyed the excitement of plotting for its own sake.'

Yeah, I'd believe that. Serenus was obviously a different character to his son, a much harder case altogether. Not that that would be difficult. He'd prosecuted Libo for what he could make on the deal, and like I'd said his attempt to four-flush the Wart had been a pure gambler's trick that could well have come off. And if he'd managed to persuade or bully this sad streak of dripping into joining in the gamble then he'd been a man to be reckoned with. 'Okay. Second question. Cornutus. The accomplice at Rome who committed suicide before the trial. How did he fit in?'

'He channelled the cash from the Asian end. I only knew that and his name. I never met him, even when we were back in Rome.'

'Did he kill himself, or was he helped?'

'I'm not a murderer, Corvinus.' Yeah, that I'd believe too. The poor sap wouldn't have the nerve, even at second hand. 'I can't answer for anyone else because I don't know.'

'How did you manage to accuse Lentulus and Sejanus's stepbrother and come out the other side in one piece?'

'I don't know.' I opened my mouth to protest but he spread his hands. 'That's the truth. Honestly, I don't know! Perhaps because the accusations were so ridiculous that the senate threw them out at once. They were Father's idea, in any case, not mine.'

And maybe Sejanus just didn't think he was worth the effort; but I didn't say that. I'd been on the receiving end of that particular comment once myself, and I knew how it felt.

'Okay,' I said. 'Last question, and then I'll go. What else have you got for me in your locker?'

His eyes glinted from under lowered lashes. 'Such as what?'

'Don't play games, Celsus! You know what I mean. Names. Details. Facts and dates.'

'Connected with the Julian plot?'

He was giving me the run-around here, and I knew it. 'To hell with the Julian plot,' I said. 'I'm after Sejanus.'

His jaw dropped. He lifted the wine cup to his lips then set it down again when he realised that it was empty. It rattled against the marble table-top and overbalanced.

'He'll kill you,' he whispered.

'Yeah, maybe, but that's my problem. So give, or your name'll be splashed all over the next edition of the senate's "Daily Register". In the Forthcoming Executions column.'

'I can't!' He was almost crying again. 'Really, I can't! I don't know any more!'

'Fine.' I got up myself. 'I'll see you around. Maybe.'

I was heading for the front door when he called me back.

'Corvinus!'

I turned. 'Yeah?'

Celsus hesitated. 'Marius. Sextus Marius.'

'That all? Just the name?'

'I swear!' He was quivering like a dish of aspic prawns. 'I told you! I don't know any more!'

'So why give me that much? Who's this Marius?'

'My father mentioned him once or twice. He was one of his associates, but Father never trusted him.'

'Where was he based? Rome? Spain?'

'I don't know! I never even saw the man!' He was actually wringing his hands. 'Corvinus, I swear! I've told you all I know!'

I sighed. Yeah, he probably had, at that.

'Thanks, Celsus,' I said. 'Thanks a lot. And don't worry any more. You're safe.'

I didn't wait for his answer.

Sextus Marius. I turned the name over in my mind as I left. It wasn't one I recognised, from my general knowledge or from the senate's records. Not a purple-striper, that was clear, not with that name. Maybe not even a Roman. Yet Celsus had used the word 'associate', which implied that the guy had been important, his father's equal.

So who the hell was he?

I called in at Lippillus's flat on the way back to tell him how the talk with Celsus had gone, but there was no one in. He wasn't at Watch headquarters either, so I left a message there and went home.

We were still in the midst of the crisis: Meton hadn't emerged, and he had enough cooking wine squirrelled away to last him a month, even at the rate he was getting through it. Worse, he'd moved on from Alexandrian love songs to wineshop café chantant , and after hearing a sample couple of verses I forbade Perilla to go anywhere near the kitchen on pain of divorce.

She was in the study, making a list of friends we could sponge off until the siege was raised.

This is silly,' she said when she'd kissed me. 'Can't we just break the door down and haul him out?'

'It isn't worth the hassle. He'll give up eventually. Cooking just for himself is a chef's idea of hell.' I lay down on the reading couch and cradled a cup of Setinian. 'Especially when he has to do it out of jars.'

'But Bathyllus says it would be easy to…'

'Don't listen to Bathyllus. That guy has delusions of military grandeur that'd make Alexander look like a pacifist. Besides, we'd need a catapult to get through that door and it'd play hell with the paintwork.'

Perilla sighed. 'Very well.'

'Who've you got down so far?'

She consulted her notes. 'Not all that many, I'm afraid. It comes of being so out of touch. Plancus and Gemella owe us a meal. I suppose we could invite ourselves there if they're free.'

'They're in Tibur.'

'Ah.' She drew a line. 'Uncle Cotta?'

'Jupiter, Perilla! Be serious!'

'I agree. Lepida and Barbatus?'

I sat up. 'No way!' Barbatus was a cousin of mine. He and Lepida were okay, just, but their kid Messallina was a real hell-cat. On the one occasion they'd been round they'd sent her to play in the garden, and in the space of an hour she'd set fire to a peacock, broken a vital part off my marble Poseidon and tried to seduce the gardener. Almost succeeded, too. Not bad going for a ten-year-old. She must be rising thirteen now; an awkward age. That girl had a future, if someone didn't have the sense to strangle her first.