David Wishart - In at the Death

So I didn’t do anything or go anywhere, just lay around in the atrium with half a jug of Setinian, twiddling my thumbs and worrying, until the lady chose to reel home full of honey wine and salacious gossip. Which she did, about an hour later.

‘Hello, dear,’ she said. ‘Have a nice walk?’

‘Yeah, we went to Scylax’s gym. Tell you about it afterwards.’ I gave her the welcome-home kiss: honey wine on the breath, sure, but she was still mobile and coherent.

‘How’s Placida?’

‘Lying knackered in the garden. She had a hard morning intimidating Daphnis. So: was Sergia Plauta on form?’

‘Very much so.’ She collapsed onto the couch just as Bathyllus drifted in touting for drinks orders. ‘Placida isn’t the only one. That woman is exhausting. Some fruit juice, please, Bathyllus. Or better still a plain tisane, unsweetened. I’ve had enough honey to last me a month.’

‘Okay,’ I said as he soft-shoed out. ‘Let’s have the gory details. Unload.’

‘Acutia is having an affair with a man called Pontius Fregellanus.’

‘Yeah? And who’s he?’

‘A middle-aged noble. He’s on the staff of Sertorius Macro.’

My head came up so fast I nearly dislocated my neck. ‘Shit!’

Perilla gave me a sharp look. ‘Marcus, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’ Oh, sweet immortal gods! Please, please let it not be Macro! ‘You’ve got the ball, lady. He’s a Praetorian officer?’

‘No. He’s a civilian, in charge of the camp’s clerical division.’ I was still getting the suspicious stare. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?’

‘Positive. What sort of guy is he?’

‘Stolid, worthy and serious, from what Plauta says, and she wasn’t being complimentary. His main interests, apart from his work, seem to be old Republican history and collecting rock samples. But he is — or he appears to be — totally captivated by Acutia. There’s even talk of a marriage.’

Jupiter in a wheelbarrow! Captivated, eh? Well, there was no accounting for taste. The woman was still good-looking enough in her mousey way, sure, but she was no Cleopatra, and from what I remembered of her she’d as much character as a polyp. Still, a boyfriend on Macro’s staff…That couldn’t be coincidence; no way could it be coincidence. The ice was already forming on my spine.

‘Anything else?’ I said.

‘That’s the gist of it. I’m omitting the finer details of how they met — Acutia seems to have been the motive force there — and the blow by blow account of the affair so far. Plauta gave me that in graphic detail, although after her summation of Fregellanus’s character and from my own knowledge of Acutia’s I suspect that most of it was her own invention.’ Perilla grinned. ‘She does have a very vivid imagination, Sergia Plauta. Either that, or a great deal of very questionable past experience.’

‘When did it start? The affair, I mean?’

‘Comparatively recently. Three months ago, according to Plauta.’

About the time when Papatius landed his job at the commission. Well, again that could be coincidence, but still… ‘And you say Acutia made the running? That not a bit out of character for the lady?’

‘A little. But she is older than I am, Marcus. Time’s running out for her. And she’s been widowed for five years.’

Yeah. Since her husband Vitellius topped himself at the emperor’s request over the Sejanus business. Sejanus. Shit, now that had to be a coincidence! Sejanus was dead and burned, he couldn’t be a factor. And, like Perilla had said before, there couldn’t be very many people in Rome from the top families who hadn’t had dealings of one kind or another with him. Even so…

‘This Fregellanus,’ I said. ‘He political, at all, now or ever?’

‘No, not in the least. Not in the way you mean it, anyway. He’s technically a senator but he rarely attends meetings and he’s never been on any important committee. “A nondescript”, Plauta called him, and I think she’s probably right.’ Bathyllus buttled in with the tisane. ‘Ah, thank you, Bathyllus. Just set it on the table, please.’

‘He’s never married?’ I said when the little bald-head had gone.

‘Again, no. Why, I don’t know, and nor, more to the point, did Plauta. There was nothing…well, there was no sexual reason why not. Perhaps he was just shy around women. Some perfectly normal men are.’

Yeah; and it would explain why Acutia had to make the running, too. Bugger; I was spinning cobwebs here, and I knew it. From an everyday, innocent point of view it all made perfect sense. Like Perilla had said, Acutia wasn’t getting any younger, and knowing a woman’s husband had been deeply involved with Sejanus, especially in the immediate aftermath of his fall, would be a powerful disincentive for potential suitors. Fregellanus might be no ball of fire, but he was a senator and so a social equal, and Acutia was lucky to get him. Besides, by the sound of it the two were just made for each other: solid bachelor with an interest in historical writing meets bubblehead widow with a penchant for poetry. It was a marriage made in heaven. Bring on the bluebirds and the slave with the nuts.

Still. Soranus, Albucilla, Acutia, Fregellanus, the Praetorians. The chain couldn’t be a coincidence; not with Aponius tying in from the other side to complete the circle…

Ah, well. Leave it for the moment. Certainly Fregellanus was another reason for going up to the Praetorian camp. Not that I particularly wanted a reason.

‘Your pet scandal-monger give you anything more on Albucilla?’ I said.

‘No, not really. Just more or less what we had already: that she is, or she was, now, Mucius Soranus’s long-time lover. Neither of them was particularly faithful to the relationship, mark you, and it always was a rather loose one.’ Perilla sipped her tisane. ‘What was interesting, though, was that Plauta said there’d been a coolness on both sides just before Soranus’s death. More than a coolness, a separation. The two seemed to be avoiding each other altogether.’

‘Yeah, that’s what Crispus told me. How long before?’

‘Only a matter of days. And yes, Marcus, I do see the implications. Since Papatius’s murder, probably.’

‘Or just before it, when they found out — as I’d bet they did — that Ahenobarbus had paid the kid’s debt to Vestorius. If my theory’s right then by that time the two of them must’ve been shitting bricks.’ I reached for my wine-cup. ‘Did Plauta have anything to say about Albucilla’s relationship with Papatius?’

‘Oh, yes. Quite a lot, in fact. They were certainly lovers in the physical sense; I was treated to a good half hour’s worth of juicy circumstantial evidence to that effect. Probably not an invention in this case, because Plauta’s maid is Albucilla’s maid’s cousin.’

‘And that affair had been going on how long?’

‘Again, two or three months. Possibly not the sexual side of things, but certainly the attachment.’

I took a mouthful of wine. ‘And Albucilla engineered it, right?’

‘Oh, yes. I was wrong about her cradle-snatching tendencies, or lack of them. Seemingly she quite often used Soranus as a means to pick up young men, and as I say they had quite an open relationship. She was very discreet, though, and the affairs never lasted long.’

Yeah, well, I’d got that already from Crispus, too, or some of it. I should’ve made the obvious inference, though. ‘Long enough to get her into their confidence, maybe,’ I said. ‘Winkle out any little secret they had that she could pass on.’

‘Mm.’ Perilla sipped her tisane. ‘Yes. That’s what I thought.’

‘No wonder the bastard was so accommodating. The two of them had a nice steady racket going. Soranus gets in with the young lads-about-town set, then when he finds a likely mark Albucilla seduces the kid and gets him to tell her bedtime stories. Whereupon Soranus puts the bite on.’ I swallowed another gulp of Setinian. ‘Neat.’