David Wishart - In at the Death

‘No. It was just a…’ She shook her head. ‘Never mind, it’ll come again if it’s important. What kind of statue? Who to?’

‘Diana. Diana as Huntress.’

‘So a woman’s statue?’

‘Of course a fucking — !’

‘Marcus! Hunting. Women.’ The tangle came free. ‘Anything significant there, do you think?’

‘How the hell should I know?’

‘Think metaphorically, dear. This is a puzzle, remember. Soranus was a blackmailer, women are a natural target — quarry — for blackmailers. And Diana doesn’t have a good reputation where men trespassing on her private affairs is concerned. The hunting goes both ways. Remember Actaeon?’

‘Who?’

‘Oh, Marcus!’

‘Yeah, well, I think we’re maybe getting just a little over-subtle here.’

‘I disagree. The puzzle element — if this is a puzzle — fits in better with how a woman’s brain works than a man’s. Diana engineered Actaeon’s death because he’d…transgressed. Offended. Crossed the line. However you want to put it. That much fits, at least.’

‘Jupiter, lady! You’re saying the person behind Papatius’s murder was a woman?’

‘We’re talking about Soranus, not Papatius. And no, of course I’m not. Or…not necessarily so.’

‘Okay. We’ve got two women in this case. One’s Albucilla, the other’s bubblehead Acutia who wouldn’t recognise a puzzle if it bit her in the bum. You like to choose, maybe?’

‘Three.’

‘Three what?’

‘Women in the case. You’ve forgotten one.’

‘Cluvia?’ I goggled. ‘Oh, come on! She was just the kid’s girlfriend!’

‘She was very fond of him, and after what you told her she probably blamed Soranus for his death. Do you know anything about her, anything at all barring her connection with Papatius and where she works?’

‘Uh, no, but — ’

‘From what you do know, would you say she was capable of planning a murder? Not of committing it herself, but arranging to have it done, given that was possible?’

I thought back to my talk with Cluvia. Yeah, that had been one very feisty, intelligent lady; and Perilla was right, she did seem very stuck on young Papatius. Still, none of that, even put all together, was enough to qualify her as a murderess. ‘She’s a viable option, sure,’ I said cautiously, ‘but I wouldn’t rate her all that high. Besides, how would you explain the fact that her pals Aponius and Pettius — and they must’ve been her pals, ipso facto, — were tailing me?’

Perilla sighed. ‘Ah. I’d forgotten that. Perhaps not Cluvia, then. Never mind, it was only an idea. Get back to Soranus’s body. The silver piece.’

‘That part’s clear enough. It’s the reason for the murder. Soranus was a blackmailer. He was taking money, specifically from Papatius.’

‘Hmm,’ Perilla said.

‘What do you mean, “hmm”, lady?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s just that — ’

‘Just that what?’

She frowned. ‘No. You’re right, of course. I’m being silly. And it does make perfect sense.’

‘So.’ I took another mouthful of wine. ‘We know why Soranus was killed, we know who did it, at least as far as the actual killers are concerned. Why drag me into it?’

‘I don’t know. No more than you do. Leave it for the present.’ She got up. ‘Meanwhile, I’m sorry, but I’d really best be going.’

‘Yeah? Where to?’

‘Sergia Plauta’s. You remember, I said I’d invite myself round this morning?’ Ah. Right. Re the not-so-sharp Acutia. ‘She doesn’t live far away, on the slope facing the Palatine. I thought I might call in in passing on the way to the Apollo Library and allow myself to be sidetracked into honey-wine and gossip.’

‘You sure she’ll be there?’

‘Oh, yes. It takes her the whole morning to have her hair done and her makeup applied. But I’d better go now, in case she’s going out afterwards. I was only waiting in until I knew you were back safely.’

‘Fine. Good luck, lady.’ I grinned. ‘Oh, and by the way, speaking of the Apollo I’d watch that chief librarian if I were you.’

‘Drepanius? He’s a sweetie!’

‘He’s a randy old bugger.’

She kissed me. ‘Yes. That too. I’ll see you later, Marcus. Incidentally, Placida hasn’t had her walk yet and Alexis has some winter digging to do. If you’re at a loose end this morning then perhaps you could take her.’

Hell.

One thing, though. Why should I keep thinking about pastry-sellers?

Yeah, well; needs must. I collected a delighted Placida and we set off at speed down Head of Africa. I wasn’t bound for Appian Road and the open country, though. Oh, sure, when the weather’s good Perilla and me’ll take an occasional stroll through one of the public gardens, but when I wear out sandal leather on my own I like it to be for a reason. If the case was on hold for the day — as it was — then we’d take time out to go to Scylax’s gym near the Racetrack.

I still called it that, although Scylax himself had been dead for years. The gym was one of the oldest properties I owned, and was currently run by Daphnis, Scylax’s erstwhile sand-sweeper turned businessman extraordinaire. Daphnis was okay at root, but you had to keep an eye on him and I hadn’t been down there in months. Too many months for safety. Now would be the perfect opportunity.

Besides, that abortive brush with my stonemason pals had shown me that I could do with a decent workout. A massage’d be good, too.

We reached the gym. I let Placida drag me across the crowded training-ground and push open the door of the office, where Daphnis was sitting at a desk to one side flicking beads on an abacus and making notes on a wax tablet.

‘Hi, Daphnis,’ I said. ‘How’s the lad?’

He looked round and did a double-take. ‘Corvinus! What — ?’

— which was all he had time for before Placida hit with both front paws and a tongue. Daphnis screamed and the abacus and tablets went flying.

‘She’s a big softie, really,’ I said.

‘Corvinus, you bastard! Get it off me!’

Fun was fun, but enough was enough. I pulled the slobbering dog away and took a firm grip of her collar. Daphnis picked himself up, dusted himself off and sat back down on his bench.

‘Where the hell did you get that thing?’ he said.

‘She’s on loan from a friend of Perilla’s.’

‘A friend? Jupiter!’ He retrieved the abacus and tablets. Yeah, well: Daphnis never had been one for the old client-to-patron respectful approach. That, together with the permanent designer stubble and his habit of picking his nose when he was in a particularly thoughtful mood was part of the guy’s unique charm. ‘Now. You here to look over the accounts? Because I’m up to the eyeballs in work at present so you can bloody well forget it.’

‘In that case, purely pleasure, sunshine.’ I forced Placida down into crouch position. ‘Just a workout and a massage.’

He sniggered evilly. ‘The massage won’t be no pleasure. We’ve got a new guy on the staff with hands like rooftiles. Good masseur, mind.’

‘That’s okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll risk it.’ There wasn’t no way I was going to back down in front of Daphnis. No way. And his technique couldn’t be any worse than Scylax’s had been. Ten minutes with Scylax and they’d had to peel me off the ceiling.

‘Great. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘I won’t. Promise. Is Publius around?’ Publius Avillius was the head trainer, an ex-legionary centurion who’d been taken on after Scylax died. He’d had a drink problem until his daughter locked up the wine-jars, but he was firmly on the wagon now, and although he wasn’t in Scylax’s league where teaching fighting dirty was concerned there wasn’t a better man with the short sword in Rome.