David Wishart - Finished Business

And she left.

Bugger.

‘So, dear,’ Perilla said when the room’s vibes had settled and we were alone again. ‘How do you think that went?’

‘Come on, lady! What did she expect? And whose side are you on, anyway?’

Perilla sighed. ‘Yours, of course,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. And you’re quite right, there’s nothing more you can do.’

‘Isn’t there?’

She stared at me. ‘Marcus, I distinctly heard you telling her that there isn’t. And you are not taking this any further. For one thing it’s not safe.’

True, unfortunately. Still, although I hated to admit it, the safety angle was only one factor in all this, and not necessarily the most important one, either.

‘Agreed,’ I said. ‘No argument. Only, if we’re being totally honest here, the lady’s VIP pal is right about the case not being properly closed; there’re too many loose ends dangling around. And I didn’t like that bit about the Palatine Games much above half, either.’

‘Marcus Valerius Corvinus, you are not telling me you believe that nonsense about Alexander the Great? That is just silly!’

‘Yeah, well, maybe. Stranger things have happened, and me, I like to keep an open mind.’

‘I told you, it’s just a harmless eccentricity. Postuma’s been claiming he talks to her for years. No one pays any attention any more.’

‘Even so, the guy was bang up to scratch originally about Surdinus’s death being murder when all the evidence pointed towards an accident. And the Palatine Games are only eight days away. Plus there’re no prizes for guessing what the disastrous consequences will be, not when we’ve already got a conspiracy on the books.’

‘A failed conspiracy. You said it yourself.’

‘Let’s assume it hasn’t. Failed, I mean, or not completely. That it’s still up and running.’

She’d picked up her book when Postuma had stormed out. Now she set it down again.

‘Marcus, I will get really angry with you in a minute!’ she snapped. ‘The conspiracy is dead ! Whatever else Gaius is, he’s no one’s fool, and your friend Felix certainly isn’t one either. Besides, they used torture on the poor men that they did catch. Don’t you think that if there were any other people involved they’d’ve had the names out of them long ago?’

I thought of Graecinus, or what Felix and his pals had left of him, anyway. I hadn’t mentioned that side of things to Perilla — as far as the lady was concerned, I’d just gone to the palace for a chat with the emperor — but she was no one’s fool, either, and where treason was concerned, torture was normal practice.

‘Maybe they didn’t know them,’ I said.

‘Of course they did! They must have done!’

I let that one pass for the present; Perilla wasn’t in any mood for a prolonged argument, and I wasn’t chancing my luck where getting mauled was concerned. ‘OK,’ I said. ‘Then maybe they just decided that protecting them and giving them a chance of getting rid of Gaius after all was more important than saving their own lives. Or saving themselves pain, rather, since the poor buggers’d know they were for the chop whatever they said. Where they got the courage from, the gods know, but it happens sometimes.’

‘Not very often, I would imagine. If anything, I’d expect things to go the other way. The temptation would be to give the names of people who were completely innocent, simply to suggest that you were cooperating.’

‘Yeah, like Capito did. OK, fair enough. Good point.’

‘Who’s Capito?’

Oh. Right. She wouldn’t know about that side of things. Capito — or rather his evidence, relayed to me by Gaius — had fallen by the wayside in the rush to get down to Clarus and Marilla’s, and naturally once we were clear of Rome, anything to do with the case had become a no-go area. ‘Herennius Capito,’ I said. ‘The imperial procurator. You remember? His son Bassus was with Sextus Papinius when he had his riding accident and I found them both together in Capito’s office. Felix bagged them just after I left.’ I was frowning; there was an itch somewhere at the back of my mind, just where I couldn’t quite get to it. ‘Gaius mentioned it, that day at the palace. Capito claimed there were more people involved than he knew about, and the names he came up with were pretty impressive.’

‘Such as who?’

‘Arrecinus Clemens. He’s one of the two Praetorian prefects. And an imperial freedman, a guy named Callistus. One of the emperor’s top civil servants, seemingly a whizz kid on the financial side. Both good possibilities, according to Gaius.’

‘Then why weren’t they arrested? Or were they?’

‘No. Capito gave Gaius’s wife Caesonia as the third conspirator. At least, the third one he knew about, anyway. Gaius decided that he was doing just what you said, implicating innocent people in the hope of stopping the torture, so he didn’t take the matter any further.’ The itch was there again. ‘In any case, Capito died on him practically straight away, so that was the end of that. Of course …’ I stopped. Bathyllus had slipped back in and was doing his hovering-with-intent act. ‘Yeah, little guy, what is it? Postuma nick the best spoons on her way out?’

‘No, sir.’ He was looking self-important as hell. ‘A dinner invitation. From the palace.’

‘ What? ’ Perilla was up like a rocketing pheasant.

Oh, fuck, this I didn’t need! I swallowed.

‘Ah. Yeah, right,’ I said. ‘Sorry, lady, my fault. I’d completely forgotten about that.’

‘How on earth could you possibly …’

‘Gaius did say when we met that he’d have us round to dinner when we got back. I hoped at the time he was just making polite noises.’

‘Marcus, you absolute idiot !’ She turned to Bathyllus. ‘When’s the invitation for?’

‘Tomorrow evening, madam.’

‘Oh, gods! Tomorrow evening?’

‘Yes, madam. The emperor’s social secretary apologizes for the short notice, but he says to be assured that the occasion will not be a formal one.’

‘There you are, Perilla,’ I said. ‘Informal. No worries.’ That just got me a Look, after which she was up and moving in the direction of the stairs. ‘You going somewhere?’

‘I am going,’ she said over her shoulder, ‘shopping. Just as soon as I’ve changed and collected my cloak.’

‘Shopping for what?’

‘A new mantle, of course. If, that is, thanks to you it’s not too late to find a decent one.’

‘Come on, lady! The invite said informal and you’ve got dozens of the things already!’

That didn’t even get an answer. ‘Bathyllus, I need the litter,’ she said. ‘Inside of five minutes, please.’

‘Yes, madam.’

‘And Marcus, if you ever, ever do anything like this again I shall kill you in the slowest and most painful manner I can think of. I may even do it anyway, after I get back. Particularly if I can find nothing suitable. Is that clear?’

‘Yeah, well …’

But she was already gone. Sometimes I wonder about that lady’s sense of priorities.

‘Hey, Bathyllus,’ I said before the little guy buggered off in his turn. ‘A half-jug of wine, please. No hurry. After you’ve broken the bad news to the litter slaves will do fine.’ It was throwing it down outside, which was why I was hanging around the house, and no doubt our matching set of lardballs were toasting their toes in front of a brazier somewhere. Plus, knowing Perilla’s hyper-picky approach to shopping, they were in for a good few hours of lugging her round most of the mantle shops in the city. Fun, fun, fun. ‘Make it the Special.’

I might as well use the lady’s sudden absence to put in a bit of constructive thinking regarding the case. Because case it undoubtedly still was; Postuma’s Alexander had been right about that. And there wasn’t a better way of lubricating the brain cells than a cup or two of the Special.