David Wishart - Solid Citizens

‘Yeah. I knew that.’

‘Caesius fixed that. Him and his lawyer friend Novius. They set me up.’

‘Set you up? Why would they want to do that?’

He gave me a long, appraising look, then smiled and shook his head. ‘Oh, no, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘No, that’s my business, and the details don’t matter. All I’m telling you is that I was innocent, just so you know. Ten fucking years!’ He glanced around at the chatting groups. ‘Mind you, missing out on the company of this po-faced crowd was no hardship, so maybe I shouldn’t complain too much. Bloody holier-than-thou hypocrites, the lot of them.’ He hadn’t lowered his voice, and I noticed a few sharply turned heads and disapproving frowns. Mettius had noticed them, too; he grinned, carefully raised his middle finger in the direction of the nearest ones, and held it there.

‘Screw you,’ he said sweetly, loudly and distinctly. The heads swung back. ‘So.’ He turned to face me again, still grinning. ‘I wish you luck. You carry on digging, with my full blessing. The more dirt you find, the better. And believe me, dirt there will be. Well …’ He glanced at the pyre; the centre had collapsed now, and there was no sign of the corpse. ‘Fun’s over, and I’d best be getting on. Things to do, places to go. I’m pleased to have met you, Corvinus. Look after yourself, and a happy Winter Festival when it comes. I’ll see you around, OK?’

And with that he walked off towards the main drag, leaving me staring. I was still looking at his disappearing back when Silius Nerva came over: he’d been, I’d noticed, one of the punters Mettius had given the finger to.

‘I’m sorry about that, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘Really sorry. The man’s a complete disgrace, and foul-mouthed into the bargain. From a good, respectable family, too; his father would’ve been ashamed. Why he came back to Bovillae after his period of relegation expired I simply don’t know. Never mind.’ He clapped me on the shoulder. ‘Thank you for coming today; it’s appreciated. Now. Come and meet our aedile, Marcus Manlius. I was just telling him about you, that you’re looking after things for us, and he’d like to thank you personally.’

He led me across to where Manlius was standing with my barber pal’s long drink of water, Canidius. They turned and smiled at me.

‘Marcus Valerius Corvinus, Marcus Manlius and Sextus Canidius,’ he said.

‘Pleased to meet you, Corvinus,’ Manlius said. Canidius gave me a benign nod. ‘We’re very grateful — I speak for the senate as a whole, of course — that you’re helping us over this business. Most embarrassing, most embarrassing! And I noticed that that woman from the brothel had the nerve to turn up. Very poor taste, that.’

‘You recognized her, then?’ I said.

He coloured. ‘I’ve … seen her, yes. Around and about in town.’

Uh-huh. There was a short, embarrassed silence that I wasn’t going to be the one to break. I just smiled and kept on smiling.

‘So,’ Canidius said finally. From close up he looked a bit like a fastidious ostrich getting ready to produce an egg. ‘How is the investigation going, exactly?’

‘Give the man a chance, Sextus!’ Nerva laughed. ‘He’s only just started!’

‘Not that we want to know too many of the sordid details, mind you,’ Manlius chuckled. ‘Leave poor old Quintus some shreds of his reputation intact, eh?’

I felt my teeth grit; between Mettius and these solid Bovillan citizens I’d take the foul-mouthed one any time. ‘As it happens,’ I said to Canidius, ‘the investigation’s going not too badly.’

‘Really?’ He beamed at me. ‘That is encouraging! Well done, you!’

‘Yeah. In fact, I’ve got a few promising leads already. This business with the burned-down wool store, for example.’ I was still smiling. ‘I understand you and Manlius here were directly concerned. I mean with the original contract, of course, not the burning itself. You like to fill me in on the background to that, while I’m here?’

I could feel the temperature plummet like the slate from a tenement roof. The smiles vanished, and the looks I got from Bovillae’s two serving magistrates would’ve skewered a rhino.

‘That has nothing whatsoever to do with Caesius’s death!’ Canidius snapped. ‘It was a complete accident, and it happened six months ago!’

I’d kept my own smile going. ‘Even so,’ I said, ‘and correct me if I’m wrong — when he took up office as censor in January he was going to set up an enquiry, wasn’t he? And that won’t be happening now. Or will it?’

I was still getting the glares, but they were silent ones.

‘That has yet to be decided, Corvinus,’ Nerva said. ‘By the senate as a body.’

‘Not by the new censor? I was sort of assuming there’d be a new election.’

‘Of course, naturally there will be, but …’

‘And from what I’m told, Manlius here is likely to be the lucky replacement, right?’

The aedile’s glare went up a notch. ‘Only if the citizens of Bovillae elect me as such,’ he said stiffly. ‘Which would be the outcome of due democratic process.’

‘Yeah. Right,’ I said. ‘Naturally, so it would, at that. I’m sorry. And of course there’ll be other candidates, won’t there?’

‘ That is up to any interested parties to decide for themselves!’

I nodded. ‘Sure. Sure. My apologies again. Well, we’ll just have to wait and see what happens, won’t we?’

‘ You will not, Corvinus,’ Canidius said sharply. ‘You’re not a citizen of Bovillae, only a visitor. You’ll be long gone.’

‘Assuming I’ve cleared up this little problem for you by then.’

‘Oh, I’m convinced you’ll’ve done that, my dear fellow!’ Nerva beamed at me, after shooting Canidius a sideways look. ‘Don’t be so modest. Quintus Libanius over in Castrimoenium tells me he has every confidence in your abilities.’

‘Well, I’ll certainly do my very best in that direction, sir. We’ll get there eventually, don’t you worry. Wherever there happens to be.’ I gave him a corresponding beam of my own. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be getting back home. Delighted to have met you, gentlemen. A real honour.’

I turned and walked away, feeling their eyes boring into my shoulder blades. I’d enjoyed that little exchange. Like I said, I’d take Mettius over those two smarmy buggers any day of the month.

The flames were dying down, and the undertakers’ men were beginning to move in, pulling the pyre apart at its edges with hooked poles so that it collapsed completely in a flurry of burning wood and sparks. Enough for today; I reckoned I’d done pretty well, all told. At least it was a start. And I could consider Manlius’s and Canidius’s cages well and truly rattled.

Home.

I got back just a smidgeon late for dinner, which with Clarus and Marilla’s chef Euclidus running things as opposed to the ultra-picky Meton was no big deal for a change. Euclidus might not be anything like Meton’s class, but at least you didn’t get the five-star tantrum and the three-day sulk if you weren’t exactly on time for a meal. As it was, the slaves had just ferried in the plates and the range of starters, so we hadn’t missed anything important. I lay down on the couch next to Perilla, filled my wine cup, and helped myself to a selection.

‘So how did you get on, dear?’ she said when I was firmly ensconced. ‘Successful first day?’

‘It was OK,’ I said, reaching for the snails in oil and oregano. ‘In fact, pretty good, all told.’ While we worked our way through the nibbles, I gave the three of them — Clarus and Marilla were sharing one of the other two couches — the basic run-down of events. ‘It’s a lot too early for any definite theories yet, sure, but at least the leads and the list of possible perps are firming up nicely. Pillar of the community and solid citizen the guy might have been, but he was obviously a lot less than popular in some quarters. And getting himself murdered less than a month before he was due to take up office when he’d promised to look into a fire in the town’s wool store is a tad too coincidental for comfort.’