David Wishart - In at the Death

‘Of course it is. It had to be. However badly they hate Macro, Albucilla and Acutia are the women they are. Acutia especially. She’s a mouse, but even a mouse can turn given the right circumstances. And as far as Fregellanus is concerned, poor sap though he is he was the best they were likely to get.’ I reached for the cold pork stew. ‘Added to which, who else could they rope in? Macro was pretty thorough. All Sejanus’s supporters — his real supporters, not just the fair weather guys who licked his backside while he was in charge — are either dead or eating beets in Lusitania. And if they’re not — like Albucilla’s ex Secundus — then they’re keeping their heads well down in case next time Macro decides to chop them off. Which he would. Lady, I am right! ’

‘Hmm,’ Perilla said. She was twisting her curl furiously, and I had to suppress a smug smile. I was winning here, and we both knew it. ‘So if you are right then how do the others fit in?’

‘What others?’

‘Ahenobarbus. Carsidius and Balbus. Not to mention Papinius himself.’

‘Jupiter, Perilla, give me a break, will you? How the fuck should I know?’

‘It’s your theory, dear. It has to take everything into account. And don’t swear, it smacks of desperation.’

Hell. The lady was right, at least about the theory having to cover all the angles. It didn’t, nowhere near, even I had to admit that.

She was right about the desperation, too.

I filled a cup from the winejug. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Okay, admitted; I haven’t a clue. None of them fits at present, not nowhere, not directly. But the root of this business has to be a plot against Macro, it has to be. I can feel it in my water. And at least it explains Soranus’s death.’

‘Really? Then let’s leave the rest aside and begin with that.’

‘Fine.’ I took a swig of wine. ‘To a certain extent, Soranus was in the plot already from the start. He was Albucilla’s long-term lover and a natural villain. He’d probably’ve got involved anyway just for the hell of it.’

‘You’re assuming that he was involved.’

‘Gods, lady, he’s the one who ended up against the statue with his throat cut! Of course he was involved!’

‘I’m sorry, Marcus, but that’s not good enough to substitute for a lack of motive. Soranus had nothing personal against Macro, as far as we know, and he was a pragmatist. How did he benefit? I’m perfectly willing to accept that he was part of a plot to kill him, yes, of course I am. But I still need to know why.’

‘Because he was blackmailing Papinius.’ I took another mouthful of wine. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I know, that doesn’t make logical sense. But there’s a whole chunk of this business that we’re missing. Macro knew what was going on. Sure he did, he had to: Soranus was killed by Aponius and Pettius, Aponius and Pettius are Praetorians and barring Fregellanus who’d have no reason at all to kill the guy Macro’s the only person in a position to use them, as well as having a credible motive. Plus he can cover his tracks by producing a set of spurious orders proving they were nowhere near Rome when it happened.’

Perilla looked up quickly. ‘Did he?’ she said.

Oh. Right. I hadn’t given her the details of my visit to the Praetorian barracks yet. ‘Yeah. Turns out they’re both on the strength, only officially they’ve been on Capri for the last twelve days.’

‘Ah. Now that is odd.’

‘Damn right it’s odd! Another odd thing was how matey the guy was. It seemed almost as if — ’ I stopped.

‘Marcus?’

‘Almost as if,’ I said slowly, ‘he didn’t mind whether I knew Soranus was killed on his orders or not.’ I shook my head. ‘No, even that’s not right. It was his whole mood. The bastard seemed actually pleased that I might think he’d been responsible.’

‘But you’ve just said that, in effect, he lied by claiming your two murderers were elsewhere. That hardly squares with an admission of responsibility, even a tacit one.’

‘Pleased is one thing, lady; an admission is something else. He wouldn’t come out in the open about admitting he’d had Soranus killed because — ’

‘He’d have to tell you why. Or refuse to tell you.’

‘Right. And that would put him square in the frame for being involved in — or at least knowing about — whatever the hell else is going on here. That’s the side of things that — ’

I froze. Oh, gods. Sweet immortal gods.

‘Marcus?’

I waved her down. ‘Macro is involved on the Papatius side. He has to be, because Aponius and Pettius were tailing me the time I talked to Caepio at the tenement. That part of it had nothing to do with Soranus and Albucilla.’

Perilla went very quiet. Then she said: ‘Ah.’

‘We’ve got a link between the two halves of the case, lady. For what it’s worth, because I for one haven’t a sodding clue on that score.’

She was looking thoughtful. ‘You haven’t considered,’ she said slowly, ‘that it might’ve been your Aponius and Pettius who murdered Papinius as well? On Macro’s orders?’

I stared at her. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘It has a certain neatness, doesn’t it? We have two…call them professional murderers. Certainly men used to killing, and far from stupid; very professional and very efficient. Papinius’s death was meticulously planned and executed; if it hadn’t been for your accidental witness across the landing you’d never have known the murderers existed. Doesn’t it make sense?’

‘Gods, Perilla, where do I start? I told you, Macro was pleased that I was on the case and getting somewhere! Genuinely pleased, as far as I could tell, not just daring me to do my worst because I’d never be able to touch him! His two murderers saved my sodding life on the Old Ostia Road when they could’ve just sat back and watched while the muggers took me out, and the case with me. And why the hell should Macro want young Papinius dead anyway? We’ve been through that before. He was no threat to anyone. He was a nineteen-year-old kid still wet behind the ears in a bread-and-butter job which — ’

‘But he was a threat. Somehow. Surely that’s where Ahenobarbus comes in.’

I skidded to a halt. Shit, she was right; I’d forgotten about Ahenobarbus. We still hadn’t fitted him into the picture, and he had to be a major piece. The guy was no lightweight. He didn’t have anything near Macro’s clout, mind, practically speaking, nothing like it, but he was in a whole different class from Papinius. And, I remembered with a faint stirring of the hairs on the back of my neck, when I’d talked to him I’d got the distinct impression that the guy was scared on his own account…

Scared. That was another thread that had run through this whole business. Soranus had been scared; so had Acutia, or she’d looked and sounded seriously worried, anyway, the one time I’d seen and heard her. I remembered Fregellanus that morning, when I’d come into his office; I’d thought he’d been scared when he saw me, but the first person he would’ve seen would’ve been Titus, the Praetorian guardsman. And Albucilla had been completely terrified. She’d looked behind me, too; perhaps to see if I’d brought any soldiers with me.

If Ahenobarbus had been scared then only someone of the calibre of Macro could’ve caused it. And the fact that he was put him firmly on the conspirators’ side of the line…

‘Ahenobarbus was involved in the plot against Macro,’ I said.

Perilla went very still. Then she said in a quiet voice: ‘You’re sure?’

‘Yeah, I’m sure. I should’ve thought of it this morning, after I’d talked to Albucilla. That’s another bit of information you’re missing, lady: Albucilla’s skipping town, possibly Italy. When I went round there she was in the middle of packing. I suggested she and Soranus had been blackmailing Papinius because of some scam involving Ahenobarbus and the fire commission, and she laughed in my face. Called me stupid. Which I am.’ My fist hit the table. ‘Shit! They were on the same side!’