David Wishart - Illegally Dead

‘Ah.’Libanius frowned. ‘I’m sorry, I left word with my major-domo that I’d be contactable here if I was needed for any reason. If you’ll excuse me a moment?’

‘Sure,’ I said.

He left. For a moment, there was silence. Then: ‘Corvinus, you can’t give up!’ Marilla snapped.

‘Marilla’s right,’ Clarus said. ‘Hostilius was murdered, you know he was. We can’t just — ’

‘Princess. Clarus.’ Jupiter, this was a real downer. ‘You heard the guy. I told you, without some sort of official standing here my hands are tied.’

‘That hasn’t stopped you before,’ Perilla said quietly.

‘No, it hasn’t.’ Marcia glared at me. ‘Nor should it be stopping you now. Marcus Valerius Corvinus, I’m surprised at you. If Libanius says we need additional proof then we will simply have to think how it is to be got. There’s the Hostilius household for a start. One of the slaves might have seen something, or — ’

‘You heard Libanius, Marcia. I can’t go questioning Hostilius’s slaves without his wife’s permission, and she isn’t likely to give it.’

‘Nonsense! Hyperion could arrange something easily. Couldn’t you, Hyperion?’

‘Certainly. Nothing easier,’ Hyperion said. ‘I’m sure under the circumstances Scopas — that’s the major-domo, if you recall — would co-operate fully, and I’d stake my life that he’s above suspicion himself.’

‘There you are. It’s a beginning. Also, Marcus,’ — Marcia’s chin lifted — ‘I may not get around as much as I used to, but I do have some influence not only locally but in Rome, which if necessary I am fully prepared to use.’

I was grinning despite myself. I didn’t underestimate that last bit of unsolicited support, either. Given the choice of having the authority of the Castrimoenian senate behind me or a damn-your-eyes war-to-the-knife commitment from the widow of the Divine Augustus’s friend and chief adviser, I’d take the second option any day. Like it or not, the steel-strong Old Boy and Old Girl network still runs the empire. A few carefully-worded letters from Marcia to her blue-blood, henna-rinsed epistolary pals in Rome and we’d probably have the head Foreign Judge in person tanking down here with the authorisation ready signed.

‘Yeah, well,’ I said. ‘Maybe — ’

Which was as far as I got before Libanius reappeared. With that mass of facial hair getting in the way I couldn’t read his expression exactly, but from the change in his manner whatever the message had been it hadn’t come from his laundress.

‘I don’t know which particular god looks after the investigative proclivities of men like yourself, Corvinus,’ he said, ‘but I suggest that you owe him or her a whopping great sacrifice. That was one of the public slaves from the Town Watch office. Someone’s found a body.’

I stared at him. Marilla whispered: ‘Oh, great!’

‘Whose body, Quintus?’ Marcia said.

‘A young slave belonging to Hostilius’s household. His name was Cosmus.’

‘Ah,’ Hyperion said.

‘You know him?’ Libanius said.

‘Of him, yes. Well, well. Now that’s interesting.’

‘He had certain articles in his belt-pouch that he could only have stolen, and stolen only from Hostilius’s bedroom. They included, crucially, the dead man’s signet ring. Taking that fact together with your suspicions over the medicine bottle, Hyperion, we now have a prima-facie case for murder.’

‘You think this slave murdered Hostilius for the sake of a ring and a few bedroom trifles?’ Marcia said. ‘It seems rather unlikely, doesn’t it?’

‘Of course it does.’ Libanius frowned. ‘That isn’t the point. What’s important is the existence of the technicality: that Hostilius died to someone’s advantage under what can now be revealed as ambiguous circumstances. That’s all I needed. You have your investigation.’

‘And the slaves?’ Hyperion said.

Libanius hesitated. ‘There,’ he said carefully, ‘I think I’m entitled to use my discretion. Again technically, the murderer is already caught. If we don’t push the letter of the law too far — and I’m trying very hard, at present, not to think too deeply about likelihoods and legalities here — then putting the rest of the household’s slaves to the torture is neither strictly necessary nor — because it would seriously affect their value as commodities — would it be economically justified. You’d agree, Lady Marcia?’

‘Oh, well done, Quintus!’ Marcia murmured. ‘Very neat!’

‘It’s brilliant!’ Marilla was beaming. ‘Isn’t it, Corvinus?’

‘Yeah.’ It was, too: a beautiful piece of legal doublethink with a nice slice of good old-fashioned hard-headed business practice thrown in. I was beginning to have a lot of respect for Libanius. ‘Uh…where was the body found?’

‘In a well on the old Bavius property, not far from Hostilius’s villa.’

‘In a well?’

‘It was sheer luck. The property’s been empty since Bavius’s widow died a year ago, and the new owner — he’s a cousin, lives in Rome — hadn’t shown much interest. Now, seemingly, he wants to sell it as a holiday home. He contacted two local builders to check the place over. One of the things they checked, of course, was the well, and — there you are.’

‘So this Cosmus was murdered himself and dumped?’

‘It’s a possibility, Corvinus. That’s for you to determine. However, it’s also possible that his death was an accident. Seemingly the surrounding wall is very low, and broken completely in places.’

‘Where’s the body now?’ Hyperion said.

‘At the Town Watch-house.’

‘Could I see it, do you think?’

Libanius’s eyebrows rose. ‘Of course. If you like. Though why you should bother to — ’

‘I may be able to tell things from it.’

‘Indeed? Well, suit yourself, Hyperion, you know best, I suppose. One more thing I should tell you, though, Corvinus, although I’d rather stay out of your investigations altogether, if you don’t mind.’

‘Yeah?’

‘The body was only identified as Cosmus’s because one of the men who found it knew him by sight. As far as I know — and I would know — Veturina hasn’t reported the boy missing, as would normally happen with a runaway slave. Nor had she reported any theft.’

Ah. ‘Interesting,’ I said.

‘Isn’t it? Well’ — Libanius turned to Marcia — ‘I think this has been quite a successful meeting after all. I’ll be getting back now, if you’ll excuse me. Hyperion? You wanted to inspect the corpse. And Corvinus, of course, if you’d care to join us. I can confirm officially, naturally, that from this moment on the investigation is yours and you have the full backing of the Castrimoenian senate.’ He held out his hand, and I shook it. ‘The best of luck to you.’

Clarus and Marilla stood up. ‘I’ll fetch Corydon,’ Marilla said. ‘Clarus, you brought Aster, didn’t you?’

‘Now just a minute, Princess — ’ I said.

‘But of course we’re coming,’ Clarus said.

‘Clarus, pal — ’

‘What?’ He grinned. ‘Look, Corvinus, I’ll bet that I’ve seen more corpses than you’ve had hot dinners. Also, that thanks to Dad I can tell a lot more about them than you can. And Marilla — well, if I go then so does she.’

Gods! I glanced at Hyperion, but he shrugged. ‘The boy’s absolutely right,’ he said. ‘Besides, his eyesight’s a lot better than mine.’ Then, when I still hesitated, he said gently: ‘Listen, my friend. You have your area of expertise; we — Clarus and myself — have ours. We may be able to use it to tell you something useful. Perhaps you should recognise that fact and accept help where it’s offered.’