David Wishart - In at the Death

‘Oh, bugger.’ The guy was small, dapper and unassuming, with the nervous-eyed, hunted look that I supposed went with the job surroundings: as far as I could tell where male stallholders were concerned he was in a minority of one. ‘I’d keep well clear for a bit, then, mate.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, right.’

‘Nice dog. It is a dog, isn’t it?’

‘That depends on the time of the month.’

He gave a nervous giggle and backed away a bit more.

Over by the perfume counter the scrum was already beginning to break up. From its centre came Cluvia, walking towards me. She didn’t look too hot, but at least she was mobile. Wrestles-With-Bears gave me a final glare and went back to her bangles. I took a firm grip of Placida’s collar and forced her down.

‘What did you say your name was?’ Cluvia said. She sounded a bit distant, like she was taking trouble over the words.

‘Corvinus. Marcus Corvinus. I’m…ah…a friend of Sextus’s mother.’

‘Really. So how did it happen? How did Sextus die? An accident?’

‘Uh-uh.’ I swallowed. ‘He killed himself.’

‘Oh.’ She frowned and made a jerky movement with her hand in the direction of the exit. The bracelets — she was wearing at least three of them — jangled on her wrist. ‘Can we go outside, do you think?’

‘No problem.’ I was watching her carefully. It’d hit her hard, sure, but she had herself under control now. More or less. A tough lady, Cluvia. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I — ’

‘Forget it. It doesn’t matter.’

We left the hall in silence, the now-placid Placida walking between us, and found a bench against the wall of the Agrippan Baths. She sat down and I waited while she took a few deep breaths.

‘All right,’ she said finally. ‘Tell me.’

I told her, while she looked down at her hands. The fingers were covered with rings and the nails were well-manicured. Thirty-something she might be, but the lady took good care of herself. I’d noticed that the female-solidarity pack had freshened up her hair and makeup, too.

‘Why did he do it?’ she said when I’d finished.

‘I don’t know. Not exactly.’

‘Could the reason have had anything to do with Mucius Soranus?’

The question came straight out, like she’d been meaning to ask it from the very first and had just been waiting her chance. I glanced at her sharply. ‘What makes you think that?’ I said.

‘Because he’s a bastard. And there was something between him and Sextus.’

‘How do you mean, “something”?’

‘I don’t know. But Sextus hated him for it.’ She frowned. ‘No. Hate’s the wrong word. So’s “frightened”. Something between the two, maybe.’

‘Why should he be frightened of Soranus?’

‘He wasn’t. I told you, it’s the wrong word, and Sextus wasn’t frightened of anyone. He didn’t hate anyone, either. Sextus was a lovely boy. You don’t meet — ’ She stopped, pulled a handkerchief from her tunic sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘He owed Soranus money. From gambling debts.’

‘Yes. That’s right.’

‘A lot?’

‘I don’t know. A few thousand, maybe.’

‘As much as fifty?’

She looked up, startled. ‘What? No!’

‘He borrowed fifty thousand silver pieces from a money-lender in Julian Square a few months ago. You didn’t know?’

‘That’s ridiculous! Sextus wasn’t a gambler! Not that much of one!’

Yeah. Check. ‘Odd thing was, he paid it back just before he died. Plus ten thousand interest.’

She was staring at me now. ‘Corvinus, what is all this?’ she said. ‘Did you come just to break the news to me that Sextus was dead — though why a friend of his mother’s would bother to do that I don’t know — or was there another reason?’

‘You know Minicius Natalis?’

‘The faction-master of the Greens? Yes, of course. Not personally, but Sextus used to talk about him. He spent a lot of his time at the Greens’ stables.’

‘Natalis wants to know why the boy did it. He’s asked me to find out.’

‘Oh. I see.’ She looked down at her hands again. ‘I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey, then. I don’t know anything about his reasons. As you’ll no doubt have noticed, I didn’t even know he was dead.’

‘You said you weren’t seeing each other any more.’ Jupiter, I hated this tactful stuff, but it was a question that had to be asked. ‘Was that your doing or his?’

‘His.’

Yeah, well, I’d sort of got that impression from the whole conversation, but it was good to have it confirmed. ‘Care to tell me why?’

‘You could’ve guessed that yourself.’ Her voice had toughened, but she still didn’t look up. ‘He’d found someone else. A lady’ — she stressed the word, but there were other harmonics there — ‘by the name of Albucilla. She’s a friend of Soranus’s.’ The eyes lifted. ‘That’s another reason I don’t like the man, if you’re interested.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Another name. Well, I needed all the leads I could get. ‘You know anything about her?’

‘No. I don’t particularly want to, either.’

‘Fine, fine.’ The tone would’ve had Cleopatra’s asp handing in its poison sacks. Not that it mattered: the name was enough at present. Back off, Corvinus. ‘No problem. So, uh, tell me more about Sextus.’

‘Like what?’

I shrugged. ‘Lady, I’m at sea here. I’m just taking what I can get and hoping somewhere it’ll make sense.’

‘I said. He was a lovely boy, the kind you don’t meet very often, almost like someone from a story-book. A thinker, not just a pair of hands.’ She sniffed again. ‘Generous, and I don’t mean just with money. Good fun, when he wanted to be. He had a strong sense of justice. And he was very proud of his family.’

This was a new one. ‘His family?’

‘Yes. His father, especially. Sextus was very proud of his father. He wanted to be worthy of him. That’s why he took his job on the fire commission so seriously.’

Shit. Well, score another point against the corruption angle. Still, Rupilia had told me at the start that he’d been grateful, and like I said Allenius had come through in spades where using up valuable clout was concerned. It was a pity the kid had died when he did. Me, I knew from personal experience how looking at relationships through adult eyes can change things.

Maybe I’d have to have a talk with Sextus Papinius’s father after all.

‘Get back to Soranus,’ I said. ‘I thought they were friends.’

Cluvia stood up. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve told you all I can. As far as Mucius Soranus is concerned, I’ve nothing definite to give you. Sextus was…very secretive. Even with me. I don’t like Soranus, I never have; he’s a manipulator, a parasite, and Sextus would’ve been much happier staying clear of him. But then he always did have a mind of his own, and maybe it’s just my prejudice talking. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve a shop to look after.’

She left, and I watched her go. Well, that was that; certainly food for thought. Someone from a story-book, eh? High praise, indeed.

Okay. Last trip of the day, through the Subura to the Cipian and your all-round-popular slug Mucius Soranus.

After that chat with Cluvia, I had some ideas of my own re Soranus’s relationship with young Papinius and the reasons for it. Trouble was like most of the evidence I’d collected so far they didn’t square with the picture I’d built up of the kid, either. Bugger. Triple bugger. But then, maybe I was completely wrong about him after all — maybe everyone else was — and the squeaky-clean nice-lad image was a total con.