David Wishart - Parthian Shot

And there were plenty of Jews in Parthia…

‘Corvinus?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Wake up, okay? I was saying I’ve fixed things up with Lanuvinius. He’s expecting a visit from you, and he’ll take it from there. Can you manage that?’

‘Sure. When?’

‘Today, if you can. He’s pretty busy.’

‘Today?’ Well, if I started out more or less straight away I’d be in Ostia by noon, and I could always bunk down at Agron’s place if things took longer than expected. Still, it was a long ride and I wasn’t looking forward to it. ‘Great. Thanks a lot, pal.’

‘Don’t mention it. How’s the investigation going?’

‘Not bad.’

He shot me a sharp look. ‘Meaning it’s turned political, right? Seriously political?’

‘Could be.’ I wasn’t going to mention Gaius Caesar; no way was I going to mention Gaius Caesar! Lippillus was better off without that bit of information.

He stood up grinning. ‘Very informative. You’d make a good oyster. Okay, no problem, I’m not pushing, and I’d best be getting back in any case. Say hello to the lady for me.’ He paused. ‘One thing, Corvinus.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m serious now, so you pay attention. These Ostian gangs, they don’t play around, and they don’t like strangers. Especially nosy strangers. I don’t know what Lanuvinius has in mind for you, but be careful, right?’

‘Of course. Yeah. Right.’

‘And give the lads at the Watch-house my regards.’

‘I’ll do that. Thanks again, Lippillus. I owe you one.’

‘Just take care.’

He waved and left.

Rome to Ostia is fourteen miles down a good, well-surfaced road: not a bad ride so long as you take it easy, unless you’re a cack-handed horseman like I am, but in broad daylight the first stage, getting across the city to the Ostian Gate, is a complete bugger. The sun was well up before I cleared the gate and got properly on my way; which meant that it was after noon by the time I reached the town itself.

The Watch-house was easy to find: an old two-storey building on the Decumanus right in the centre near the theatre. I parked the horse with one of the ubiquitous entrepreneurial kids who hang around the Market Square area, went in and asked for Lanuvinius.

‘You want him personal, sir?’ the squaddie on the desk asked. ‘Only he’s out at the moment, and I know he was planning seeing about a dodgy plaster shipment over in Picus Street this afternoon.’

Bugger. Well, Lippillus had said the guy was busy, and I couldn’t expect him to be sitting in an office twiddling his thumbs waiting for me. ‘The name’s Marcus Corvinus,’ I said. ‘Decimus Lippillus at Public Pond in the City sent me.’

The squaddie’s face broke into a grin. ‘Oh. Right. No problem, then, the boss said you might call round. He’s on his break just now, at his daughter’s. She’s got a cloth shop on the Hinge, about two hundred yards up from Market Square on the left hand side. If you hurry you should catch him.’

‘Great. Thanks, friend.’

I went down the steps and turned back the way I’d come, up the Decumanus. The old fort guarding the harbour and the Tiber mouth may be long gone, but the name’s a reminder that the layout is still there under all the modern buildings, which means that the town’s centre is a lot more visitor-friendly than Rome’s. The Hinge was the other main street, crossing the Decumanus at the market square; not far, in other words, which was no doubt why Lanuvinius took his lunch at his daughter’s.

I found the place; the usual small stone-counter-and-hole-in-the-wall job between a hardware merchant’s and an undertaker’s business. Lanuvinia — if the woman behind the counter was the guy’s daughter — filled most of it easy.

‘Yes, sir. How can I help you?’ she said. Nice cheerful smile, though.

‘Ah…I’m looking for someone called Lanuvinius. The Watch commander?’

The smile broadened. She had good teeth; whatever had caused the spread, it couldn’t be too many honey-cakes. ‘Yes, he’s here,’ she said. ‘Just go on through.’

The shop was full of bolts of cloth that lined all three sides a couple deep, but there was a clear space behind them big enough for a bench set against the back wall. I could see the family resemblance right away. Lanuvinius was as big as his daughter with a bit to spare: not unhealthy-fat, but there was enough there for two Watch commanders, easy, certainly two Lippilluses. He was sitting on the bench with an empty plate, a jug and a wine-cup beside him. Well, at least I hadn’t interrupted his meal.

‘Valerius Corvinus, right?’ he said.

‘That’s me.’ I held out my hand.

He wiped his own on his tunic and took it. We shook. I thought his grip would be spongy, but it wasn’t, not at all. The eyes were pretty sharp, too; they’d taken in my purple stripe and Market Square haircut at a glance, and there hadn’t been any hesitation over my name. Yeah, Lippillus had said the guy was good, and Lippillus was a hard judge. That was reassuring.

‘Welcome to Ostia.’ He shifted up the bench. ‘Have a seat. Sorry it’s so cramped, but I don’t usually have company on my lunch break. You want to go somewhere else?’

‘No, here’s fine. And I’ll stand, thanks. It’s a long ride from the City.’

He chuckled, his three chins wobbling. ‘You’re not a horseman, then? That makes two of us. How’s Lippillus?’

‘Fine. He sends his regards.’

He reached for the jug and held it up. ‘You want some of this, by the way? There’s the best part of a cup left, if you don’t mind the one I was using.’

‘Sure. If you can spare it.’

He poured and held the cup out for me to take. ‘Now. I’ve got to go over to the other side of town shortly so if you don’t mind we’ll get straight down to things.’

‘Suits me.’ I took a long swallow of the wine. Not bad. And very welcome after the ride down from Rome.

‘Lippillus filled me in on the background, at least as much of it as he knew.’ Lanuvinius’s sharp eyes twinkled. ‘Which didn’t, to be frank, amount to a handful of beans. Would you care to bridge a few of the gaps at all, maybe? Just to satisfy my curiosity?’

‘Ah…’

‘Meaning no.’ He grunted. ‘Well, he said you probably wouldn’t. All the same, he’s got a lot of time for you, and with Lippillus that doesn’t happen often where purple-stripers are concerned, so we’ll let it pass.’ Oh, whoopee. ‘It’s a political job, right?’

‘Uh..yeah. Yeah. At least, I think so.’

‘No need to pussyfoot there, Corvinus. That makes me feel a lot better, because political jobs I’m happier not knowing about anyway. So. Isak’s got himself mixed up in politics, has he?’

‘Who?’

‘Isak. The gang leader. Lippillus didn’t mention him?’

‘No. Just that the knifemen were Jewish. He told me you’d fill in the details yourself.’

Lanuvinius grunted again. ‘Fair enough. It’s a family gang — they mostly are around here, and they go back generations — maybe twenty, thirty strong. Professional, naturally. Isak’s the leader, elected, has been since his father died five or six years back, although he’d already been running things in practical terms for about the same again before that. He’s head brother, not the eldest but the toughest and the smartest by a long chalk, which is what counts because crime’s a dog-eat-dog business in Ostia and weak, stupid leaders are culled pretty smartly, usually by their own kin. On the other hand — or maybe the two things are connected — he’s straight enough in comparison with a lot of them, which is why I didn’t tell Lippillus to forget it right off when he suggested you might come down here.’ He paused. ‘Even so I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t warn you to drop this now. Isak may be straight for a crook and a killer, but he’s a crook and a killer none the less. Having anything to do with him and his friends when you don’t need to is a bad, bad idea. You understand me?’