David Wishart - In at the Death

‘Fine. At that point, completely out of the blue, one of your top bosses — your top bosses, the emperor’s own nephew — calls you into his office or wherever and tells you you’re his son. How does that grab you?’

Perilla was looking thoughtful. ‘I suppose I’d be totally dumbfounded. Unless I’d suspected it already, naturally.’

‘Yeah, right. Still, the qualification doesn’t signify. Young Papinius was no bonehead, and he hadn’t led a sheltered life, either. He must’ve heard rumours, and what with the timing of the divorce and his legal father’s attitude to him and his mother over the years he’d have to have been thick not to put two and two together. But he couldn’t’ve been sure. Now he was. We know he was, because Cluvia told us he was really proud of his family, and of his father in particular. That’d make no sense where Allenius was concerned — up to that point Papatius had scarcely even mentioned him — but if he meant Ahenobarbus it makes sense in spades. Okay?’

‘Yes. Go on.’

‘So.’ I refilled my wine-cup. ‘Ahenobarbus calls you in and hits you with the whammy. He also tells you that he’s directly responsible for getting you the post. Like you say, you’re totally gobsmacked. Then — this is the clincher — he says he’s got a very special job for you within the commission. Very important, very hush-hush. How do you react?’

Perilla smiled. ‘Again, I’d feel proud and privileged; too much so — which is clearly where you’re leading, Marcus — to ask any questions.’

‘Right. Only like I say, you’re no bonehead. You’ve got stars in your eyes at present, sure, but over time when the glitter begins to wear off your brain kicks into gear and you begin to think about what you’re doing.’

‘And it doesn’t seem so innocent any more.’

‘Right. So what happens then?

‘I…begin to have second thoughts.’

‘Fine. Only problem is, you’re in the scam — you know by now that it’s a scam — up to your neck. You want out but you’ve nowhere to go. You can’t blow the whistle on Ahenobarbus, because you’re a no-account nineteen-year-old kid, and who would believe you against him? Added to which, he’s your father. Your real father. Maybe you even think of what it’d do to your future political career. You’re honest in yourself, sure, but for someone like you a career is your life. Balancing honesty now against your whole future is a tough decision for a nineteen-year-old to make. So what do you do?’

‘I confide in someone. Someone older, someone neutral.’

‘Yeah. Not your mother, because you don’t talk, and what could she do anyway? Not Allenius; definitely not Allenius. Not Minicius Natalis either, because he’s in thick with Prince Gaius, and Gaius for all his faults is Official with a capital O. So who?’

She was twisting the lock of hair beside her ear. ‘Lucia Albucilla,’ she said.

‘Bang on the button. Albucilla’s perfect. She’s a woman, so she wouldn’t matter — ’

‘Thank you, dear.’

‘- she’s been around, she’s experienced, smart. She’d know what to do. Best of all, you’re in love with her.’

‘Marcus, you do not know that!’

‘It’s a fair assumption.’ I took another mouthful of wine. ‘So you tell Albucilla the whole story. Only then — ’

‘Albucilla takes it directly to her friend Soranus.’ Perilla frowned. ‘You’re right. It works.’

‘Whereupon Soranus zaps you with a demand for fifty thousand sesterces or he does his duty as a responsible citizen and peaches to the Wart and you’re up shit creek without a paddle. Without a sodding boat.’

‘Of course, there is still one more problem.’

‘Yeah? What’s that?’

‘You’re going to tell me that Papinius went to Ahenobarbus and made a clean breast of things, after which Ahenobarbus paid off the loan he took out from Vestorius. Aren’t you?’

I blinked. ‘Uh…yeah. Yeah, more or less. Or that Ahenobarbus found out some other way. It comes to the same thing.’

‘Very well. In effect, then, Soranus had already been paid off. So why should Ahenobarbus subsequently kill Papatius? What reason would he have?’

‘Perilla, the kid had become a liability! He’d blabbed once, he obviously wasn’t happy about what he was involved in, and he could well blab again, to someone higher up the ladder this time who might just believe him. Ahenobarbus couldn’t risk that. He had to cut his losses.’

‘Then if he didn’t balk at murder, why not kill all three of them together — Papatius, Soranus and Albucilla — and solve the whole problem at a stroke? Plus save himself a considerable amount of money.’

‘Lady, that’s silly! Ahenobarbus might be an imperial, he’s certainly ruthless enough, but he’s no fool. Three suspicious deaths at once? All of bona fide aristocrats? You think that wouldn’t get noticed, maybe even on Capri?’

‘There would be nothing to link them to him, not directly. And surely it would depend on how important whatever he wanted to cover up was. Also — well — why should the deaths be suspicious? If he could successfully disguise Papatius’s murder as a suicide — which he would have done if you hadn’t become involved — what was to stop him doing the same for the others?’

‘Same answer. Three suicides at once would get noticed.’

‘Accidents, then. A mixture. Anything. And don’t quibble, you know I’m right.’

I sighed. Yeah, well, she had a point, and as far as Soranus was concerned if that bastard hung up his clogs I doubted if there’d be many tears shed, quite the reverse. Maybe the same went for Albucilla: from what I’d heard of her the lady wasn’t exactly a universally popular and respected pillar of society. And certainly it would explain why, when I’d talked to them, they’d both given the impression of pissing their pants about something. Knowing you’d made a guy like Domitius Ahenobarbus seriously peeved wouldn’t be exactly conducive to peace of mind and a good night’s sleep. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Point taken.’

‘Another thing it doesn’t explain is the peripheral detail.’

‘Uh…come again?’

‘Balbus and Carsidius, for a start. Marcus, they’re honourable men! Oh, yes, perhaps honourable only in senatorial terms, but that’s amply sufficient here. For your theory to work, they’d both have to be hand-in-glove with Ahenobarbus, and if he were engaged in some sort of illegal activity then that doesn’t make sense. Not to me, at any rate. Both of them lied to you over the bribery issue, and in neither case — unless they were involved with Ahenobarbus in a cover-up — was it necessary.’ She straightened a fold in her mantle. ‘I’m sorry, but if that’s your theory then it has too many holes.’

Bugger. Right again, and I couldn’t even put hand on heart and say there was a scam to cover up in the first place. Stymied. I sank the last of the wine in my cup. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Let’s leave that aspect of things for now. Where do I go next?’

She sniffed. ‘I would’ve thought it was obvious.’

‘Really?’ I reached for the jug. ‘Where’s that?’

‘Acutia.’

I shrugged. ‘Okay. Although on present showing I can’t exactly see the lady being willing to spill any beans. If she is involved somewhere along the line, then — ’

‘Marcus, why must you always be so direct?’

‘Fine, Aristotle. In that case, you tell me.’

‘You’ve got your Caelius Crispus. I’ve got Sergia Plauta.’

‘Who?’

‘Your mother’s friend. The dowager; remember?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ I’d never actually met Plauta myself — Mother’s pals can be pretty wearing at close range — but I’d heard both Mother and Perilla talking about her. Sergia Plauta was your echt blue-blood society matron, six steps to the right of Sulla and a force to be reckoned with in the honey-wine-klatsch set. ‘You reckon she can help?’