David Wishart - Food for the Fishes

Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten; Philippus.

He was waiting by the stairs, with his two heavies in attendance. I noticed that one of them was the guy who’d punched me in the ribs, and he was wearing a fetching little bandage round his head. I grinned at him and got a glare back.

‘Looks like you’re popular tonight, friend.’ I smiled at Florus. ‘We’ll just leave you to it, shall we?’

He was still staring. Philippus limped forwards, flanked by the heavies. He didn’t look too chuffed, either.

Me, I know when I’m not wanted. I stood up.

‘Okay, Perilla,’ I said. ‘Fun’s over. You had enough excitement for one evening, or should we go somewhere else?’

She got up and kissed me. ‘Yes, thank you, Marcus. It’s been fascinating. Home, I think. Good night, Aquillius Florus, and thank you for the game. I enjoyed it immensely.’

Florus gave a strangled grunt. His eyes hadn’t moved.

‘Finished, Corvinus?’ Philippus said.

‘Yeah, you could say that.’

‘Good.’ He turned to Florus and jerked his thumb. ‘You. Upstairs.’

We dropped the house cut off with Calliope and went outside. Lysias had turned and was parked just up the street, waiting.

We drove home. It’d been a long, long day, and I was knackered.

Still, I reckoned we’d got our killer. It was only a question now of wrapping things up.

The next morning I took the mare into Puteoli.

With Ostia silting up fast, and despite the distances involved, Puteoli’s Rome’s main port, especially for the grain ships that ply across the Med from Alexandria, so it’s a far bigger place than Baiae, practically a city in its own right like Neapolis. Even so, Philippus’s directions were clear enough for my purposes. I found the market square, mentioned Frontinus’s name to a friendly vegetable-seller and was directed to a two-up-two-down house in a street just off the centre.

‘Gaius Frontinus’s?’ I asked the door-slave.

‘Yes, sir. The master’s out at the moment, though. On business.’

Hell. ‘You know when he’ll be back?’

‘Can’t say, sir. Was it urgent?’

‘Yeah. You could say that.’

‘Then you’ll probably find him at Cleisthenes’s emporium. In Five Cedars street.’

‘Where’s that, sunshine?’

He gave me directions. Luckily it wasn’t far: one of the streets the other side of the square. I slipped him a few coppers — door-slaves can always do with a contribution to the liberation fund — and set off back the way I’d come.

I couldn’t’ve missed Cleisthenes’s. It was one of those big emporia that sell everything for the house, from snail dishes to man-size storage jars, and it filled practically the whole of the block. I parked the mare at a convenient horse-trough and went in. One of the sales-skivvies directed me to a back room on the far side of the central hall.

I knocked on the door.

‘Come in.’

It was a small office. There were two men there, going through a stack of tablets: a tall lanky one with ‘Greek’ written all over him and a small dumpy one with an Aventine face and rheumy eyes. Despite the Aventine face, what was written all over him, from his pricey Cordoban leather sandals to the pearl earring in his left ear, was money. Yeah, right: that had to be Frontinus.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you, gentlemen,’ I said. ‘Valerius Corvinus. I was told I’d find Gaius Frontinus here.’

‘That’s Gaius Calpurnius Frontinus,’ the little guy said. Obviously, he was proud of the name, but if he was one of the Calpurnii then I’d eat my mantle. ‘How can I help you? I’m afraid I’m rather busy at present, as you can see, but if you make it brief — ’

‘I was given your name by Licinius Philippus in Baiae,’ I said.

The effect was magic. The guy literally flowed over. ‘How is Philippus?’ he said. ‘Well, I trust? Cleisthenes, you’ll forgive us for a moment.’

The lanky guy didn’t have much choice — I reckoned from the way he was acting he owed Frontinus serious money, and that the account had just become due — but he put a brave face on it. ‘Certainly. I’ll just…that is, I’ll…’ He gave me a nod and slipped out, closing the door behind him.

Yeah, well; I couldn’t fault the value of Philippus’s introduction, anyway. Frontinus beamed at me. ‘Now, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘How can I help you? I assume it’s a loan. Let me say now that I’m sure there will be no difficulty where anyone recommended to me by Licinius Philippus is concerned.’

‘No, I’m fine at present, thanks.’

He looked blank. ‘Really? Then I don’t quite see why — ’

‘Philippus said I should talk to you about a guy called Aulus Licinius Nerva.’

‘Did he, indeed?’ The tone was guarded. ‘In what connection?’

‘Was he one of Philippus’s recommendations too?’

‘No, he wasn’t. I get very few recommendations from Philippus. He’s a very discriminating man, very discriminating, and most careful who he lets use his name.’ He frowned and looked at me like he was reconsidering that particular judgment. ‘In actual fact the recommendation came from one of my other customers who is, I understand, a cousin of Licinius Nerva’s business partner.’ He blinked at me. ‘Now, Valerius Corvinus. Could I possibly ask you what your interest is?’

‘I understand Nerva was arranging to borrow some money.’

‘That is certainly the case.’ The guy was wary now, no question, and I reckoned that he was within a hair’s-breadth of telling me to get lost, but obviously Philippus’s recommendation was still working its magic. The guy had paid off his debt right enough. ‘Of course. Quite a considerable sum, in fact.’

‘To finance buying a decommissioned grain barge. Yeah, I know that. What I don’t know is what security he offered.’

Silence; long silence. ‘I do not believe,’ Frontinus said at last, carefully, ‘that that’s any business but his and mine. Not even if you are a friend of Philippus’s. I’m sorry, Corvinus, but if you’ve come all the way from Baiae just to ask me that then — ’

‘Nerva’s father was murdered six days ago. His brother was murdered the day before yesterday. Maybe that’s relevant.’

‘Murdered?’ I’d rocked him; I could see that. The rheumy eyes — they had traces of ointment in the corners — opened wide.

‘Yeah. The old guy was found in a fish tank. The brother had his throat cut in an alley. I’m looking into both deaths.’

‘Oh, my goodness.’ There was a chair beside the desk. Frontinus collapsed into it. ‘Oh, my! That does put a…rather different complexion on things. A completely different complexion, in fact. You’re sure? That the deaths weren’t…accidental?’ I nodded. ‘But that’s terrible! Simply dreadful!’

‘Yeah,’ I said, and waited.

‘You see, Nerva wanted to raise the money on his future prospects.’

The hairs on the back of my neck stirred. ‘Is that so, now?’ I said carefully. ‘And how would that work, exactly?’

‘Oh, it’s a common enough arrangement.’ Frontinus was looking sick. He took a handkerchief from his mantle-fold and dabbed at his lips. ‘The principal is guaranteed by a promissory note payable in full when the borrower comes into his inheritance. Subject to verification that the amount involved will be sufficient to cover it, of course. Interest is paid by the calendar month, naturally; that’s quite separate. The rate depends on the age and…durability of the testator.’

‘What happens if the borrower dies before he inherits? Or if something goes wrong?’

‘He signs a paper allowing me to sell up his own assets to the value of the amount borrowed, before the estate passes to his own heirs. And, of course, I’m very careful to ensure that these assets are sufficient in themselves to cover the debt, which Licinius Nerva’s were, if only just.’ The ointment-smeared eyes blinked at me anxiously. ‘Murdered? You’re sure they were murdered?’