David Wishart - Germanicus

'No. Listen, Perilla couldn't've told you all of it because she didn't know. We were right. Sure, the Wart was in on Germanicus's death, but there was someone else involved, someone with a personal axe to grind, and that's who Carillus is working for. He's our only lead. We've got to find him and make him talk.'

'Marcus, you are not going anywhere or doing anything.' Perilla was using the voice that she saved for special occasions like reducing guard dogs to a quivering jelly. 'That is final.'

I was still looking at Agron. 'How about it? Want to deputise? If Scylax can track him down?'

'If it's that important to you.' Agron shifted uncomfortably. 'But he's left Rome for keeps. Maybe Italy, even. The guy wouldn't stick around after knifing a patrician in front of witnesses, whatever clout he thinks he's got. And if he isn't in the city Scylax hasn't a hope in hell of finding him.'

'Yeah, I know.' I felt exhausted, mentally as well as physically. 'But like I said he's the only lead we've got. He came back before, he's got too much going for him here just to pull up sticks and leave. So maybe he's hanging on somewhere after all until he thinks it's safe.'

Agron looked at me. Finally he said: 'Okay. You've got it. It'll never happen, but if it does you've got it. Leave the guy for now anyway. You look like a month old dish-rag. Get some more sleep and I'll come back later.'

'Yeah, maybe I will.' I closed my eyes again, then opened them. 'Hey, Agron. One more thing. You ever meet a bastard called Caelius Crispus?'

But it must've been later already, because they were gone.

It was three days before I felt fit enough to get up, and even then the main reason was I was sick to death of Meton's chicken broth. There was no one around, but I held on to the banister and got to the foot of the stairs without falling over before yelling for Bathyllus. He came racing along the kitchen corridor like there was a fire in the hypocaust.

'You want to watch your hernia,' I said.

'The mistress gave strict instructions that you were to stay in bed, sir.' His bald head gleamed with sweat and prim disapproval. Not a single hair marked the smooth expanse. So much for the magic tiger piss. Mind you, I hadn't checked out the Golden Milestone yet. 'The doctor, too.'

'Perilla wants the doctor to stay in bed?'

Not a flicker. I could see that one go straight past him without even nicking the edge. Well, maybe it'd been a false alarm after all. 'No, sir,' he said. 'Not the doctor,’ he said. ‘Only you, sir. I'll get one of the kitchen slaves to help you upstairs again.'

'I'm fine here, thanks, sunshine.' Yeah, well, I was having second thoughts about that already myself, but I managed to make it to the couch before my legs gave way altogether and dumped me. 'What you can do for me, though, is fetch a cup and a great big jug of Setinian. And go easy on the water, okay?'

He fizzed a bit, but at least I was lying down and looking more like an invalid so he didn't have that grievance any longer. 'Yes, sir. Setinian, sir, well watered, sir. At once, sir.'

I sighed. The bastard had heard me perfectly clearly, of course, and I hadn't missed the heavy sarcasm either. I remembered an epitaph I'd seen once on one of the Appian Way tombs: ‘Here lies so-and-so. Killed by his doctors.’ I knew how the poor bugger felt.

'Hey, Bathyllus!' I called him back. 'Have there been any messages from Agron?'

'No, sir.'

'How about Scylax?'

'Not today, sir.'

Ah, well. If nothing was happening then I didn't feel so bad about taking it easy. I lay back on the couch and closed my eyes. Just for a moment…

I was woken by Perilla. The lady didn't look too happy, either.

'Corvinus, what on earth are you doing downstairs?' she said. 'You should be in bed.'

'Yeah, well…' I struggled to sit up.

'And you've been drinking.'

Bathyllus must've put the jug and cup down on the table while I was asleep. I hadn't touched a drop. What a waste. 'I swear to you, Perilla…'

She ignored me. 'Bathyllus!'

He was there in two seconds flat, all rolling eyes and teeth. Half an ounce of encouragement and he'd've been on his back with his paws in the air. Sickening. Jupiter knows what would've happened to the little guy if at that moment someone hadn't knocked at the outside door. He shot off like he'd been greased, and Perilla turned her attentions on me.

'I'm fine,' I said quickly. 'No problems. Honest.'

'Nonsense.' She sat down on the couch next to me. 'The doctor gave strict instructions that you should stay in bed. Bathyllus knows that perfectly well. Marcus, how can you possibly expect to get better if you don't follow instructions?'

I wasn't listening, because Bathyllus was sidling back in with Scylax in tow.

'Hey!' I said. 'Scylax!'

'Marcus.' Perilla glared at him. 'I really do not think that you should trouble yourself with…'

I waved her down. 'Any news, pal? You find Carillus? Bathyllus, get the guy a chair. Two chairs. Three. And another cup.'

'Carillus?' Scylax was looking puzzled. 'You still want me to find Carillus? '

I poured myself some of the Setinian and took a moderate swig. Even watered to within an inch of its life, I could feel it doing me more good than all the doctors and bowls of chicken broth in Rome.

'Sure I do,' I said. 'Why shouldn't I?'

A shrug. 'I just wouldn't've thought it was necessary any more. Not once you knew where he'd gone after he'd cut you.'

I looked blank. Perilla groaned. 'Scylax,' she said, 'I will personally kill you for this.'

'Wait a minute, lady.' I was staring at him. 'Run that one past me again, pal. Slowly.'

Scylax was looking nervous as a virgin in a cathouse, which was a thing I thought I'd never see this side of the grave. He glanced at Perilla. She was sitting straight as a ramrod.

'Oh, go on,' she said. 'You may as well tell him now.'

'I was having Carillus watched,' Scylax said. 'Like we arranged. By Daphnis's young nephew. He hadn't been told to stop watching, so he didn't. When the guy ran out of the beer shop after knifing you our boy was waiting over the road.'

'And?'

'I've told you all this. Or at least I told Agron. Two days ago.' Another glance at Perilla. 'Uh, yeah, well, maybe you haven't heard after all. Carillus went all the way to the Pincian.'

'Crispus,' I said slowly. 'Fucking Crispus.'

'What Crispus? Carillus didn't go to see no Crispus. He went straight to a guy called Fulcinius Trio.'

I frowned. Fulcinius Trio? Who the hell was…? Then I remembered. Trio had been one of the prosecuting panel at Piso's trial; in fact, the opportunist who'd brought the charge in the first instance and been cold-shouldered by Germanicus's friends, who thought he'd no right muscling in. So. Lucius Fulcinius Trio, eh? It looked like we were in business again.

'Bathyllus, pal,' I said. 'Take this dishwater away and bring us some wine.'

Perilla sniffed.

I compromised with Perilla, the deal being that I'd behave for three days and after that Trio was mine, so long as I promised to go easy and take Agron along as a babysitter. A fair bargain. Even so, I nearly didn't make it, fitness-wise; after three more days on a diet of chicken soup and wine-flavoured water I wouldn't've backed myself arm-wrestling a five year old.

We took a litter: the Pincian's way up in the north of Rome and Trio's place was off Pincian Street itself, near the old gate in the Servian Wall. From my first view of the property it was obvious that social lightweight or not the guy wasn't doing too badly, which made me wonder straight off where the money had come from.

The slave who opened the door was young, pretty faced, fair haired and well groomed, and he wore a natty little tunic that showed a lot of thigh. Uhuh. So that was another angle I could follow up later. If Trio's taste in domestic servants ran that way then he might have more in common with Regulus than I'd thought.