David Wishart - Solid Citizens

‘He, uh, spent his nights elsewhere on occasions, then?’

Vatinia smiled. ‘Aulus wasn’t a child, Corvinus. And nor am I. Yes, quite frequently, although to my knowledge he never brought the woman to the house. That would have upset me greatly, and he knew it.’

‘“The woman”? A particular one?’

‘The freedwoman. Andromeda. I hear she runs a brothel now in the town. I’ve nothing against that in itself — she must live, after all — but I was sorry he’d taken up with her again after all these years. I’d hoped, when he came back home, he’d marry a girl of his own class and settle down properly. But then that wasn’t Aulus’s way.’

‘“Again”? They knew each other before she moved here?’

‘Oh, yes. When she was my brother-in-law’s slave. It was quite the family scandal. We expected, when he got rid of her to a woman in Tibur, that to be the end of the affair. As, at the time, it was.’

‘Andromeda was Quintus Caesius’s slave?’

‘Indeed. Many years ago now, of course. Aulus could only have been seventeen, and the girl was about the same age, or slightly younger. You didn’t know?’

‘No.’ Holy gods alive! ‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Aulus always was wild. His father died when he was seven, but even before that he had a mind of his own, and he was constantly getting into trouble. My brother-in-law did his best to help the boy, of course, out of duty to the family, but even I realized that it was a losing battle. Worse: it was through his association with Quintus that he became involved with the slave girl. And then there was the business of the missing money and his relegation. I thought that might bring him to his senses, but it wasn’t to be. When the woman got her freedom and moved back into the neighbourhood he took up with her again straight away. He was quite besotted.’

Sweet Jupiter! I remembered the lack of any sound from Andromeda’s flat above her sitting room. Oh, sure, she could’ve been in bed until just before she came down, but it was equally possible that the flat had been empty, that she hadn’t been upstairs at all, and that she’d just come in via the outside stair. It would explain why she was flustered when she’d found me there, too. ‘He couldn’t’ve been seeing her today, could he?’ I said. ‘Arranged a meeting for this morning, I mean?’

‘It’s possible, although I wouldn’t have thought so, certainly not here. Why should he? He always went to her; she has a flat above her place of business. But as I said I don’t know.’

I was thinking hard. I agreed with the lady that an arranged early-morning meeting out here in the sticks — particularly since it wouldn’t have been at the villa itself — was pretty unlikely on the face of it, but it was still definitely something to check up on, because if that had been the way of things then it raised some very interesting possibilities indeed. The major-domo Phrontis might be able to shed some light. Plus, like I said, there was the distinct probability that she’d been out and about that morning before I talked to her, so she must’ve gone somewhere. A meeting with her boyfriend was as good a solution as any. I didn’t know how exactly it would fit in with Mettius’s death, mind — if they’d been lovers, as they obviously had been, then why she’d want to kill him I couldn’t think — but where Quintus Caesius’s murder was concerned the undisclosed past connection between the two combined with the opportunity factor put her squarely on the most-likely suspects list. Pretty well near the top of it, at that.

Whatever the truth of the matter, I would sure as hell be having another word with the lady herself before she was much older.

‘Is there anything else you can tell me, Vatinia?’ I said. ‘About your son’s recent activities? Any names he’s mentioned in the last few days, and so on, that might be a clue to why he died? Anything at all, really, however trivial.’

‘No, I’m afraid not. As I said, Aulus led his own life. Talk to Phrontis. He may be able to help you more.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Yes, I’ll do that.’ I stood up. ‘Thank you. Again, I’m terribly sorry.’

She nodded acknowledgement. ‘He was a good boy at heart, you know,’ she said. ‘He had his faults, as do we all, perhaps more than most, but he didn’t deserve to die for them. Certainly not in the way that he did. Find his killer for me. Please.’

I got up and left the room. The major-domo was waiting for me in the lobby.

‘Would you like to see the young master, sir?’ he said. ‘Or perhaps the place where he was found? I’ll have one of the slaves take you.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Both. But I’ll wait for my son-in-law, if you don’t mind. He should be coming over from Castrimoenium.’

‘Your son-in-law?’

‘Cornelius Clarus. The doctor. I asked Silius Nerva to send for him. Meanwhile I was wondering if you had anything you could tell me yourself.’

He frowned. ‘Not really, sir.’

‘Your master didn’t say where he was going, or why? That he’d arranged a meeting with someone, for example?’

‘No. He left with hardly a word, just after breakfast. I assumed he was going into town.’

‘On foot?’

‘It isn’t far. And he usually walked, whatever the weather.’

‘Was he carrying anything?’

‘Such as what, sir?’

‘A small bronze statuette, for example?’

‘I don’t think so. But then if he had been I probably wouldn’t have noticed. It was raining, and he was wearing his heavy cloak.’

Yeah. Fair enough. ‘Uh … Does the name Quintus Baebius ring any bells with you, by any chance?’

‘I know the gentleman exists, certainly, but the master never mentioned him.’

‘What about Opilia Andromeda?’

Phrontis’s lips set in a tight line. ‘That lady, sir, I do know. Unfortunately. And of course the master mentioned her frequently.’

‘They were having an affair, right?’

‘Gentlemen of the master’s standing do not have affairs with ex-slaves, sir. There was a relationship, yes.’

I grinned, mentally: I’ve never yet met a major-domo who doesn’t have a higher regard for what’s done and not done than the guy who owns him. Social snobbery is built in with the bricks. ‘OK, pal,’ I said. ‘“Relationship” will do fine. They saw a lot of each other, certainly.’

‘Yes, sir. Or so I assume. She’s never set foot in this house, of course. The mistress would never have allowed it, and to be fair to him the master respected her wishes.’

‘The place where the body was found — the pine grove — that in the direction of anywhere in particular?’

‘No, sir. It’s well away from the road, on the edge of our property where it adjoins Quintus Roscius’s farm.’

‘So your master would’ve been going there specifically? To the grove, I mean?’

‘Yes. At least, that’s a logical assumption.’

‘Could there’ve been any particular reason for that? Under normal circumstances, that is.’

‘No, sir. None that I can think of.’

‘Did he know Roscius at all? Socially, I mean.’

Phrontis sniffed: pure Bathyllus. ‘The families don’t mix socially,’ he said. ‘He knew him as a neighbour, of course. But whether he did any more than speak to him in passing, I can’t say.’

‘So they’d no contact? Social or business? As far as you’re aware?’

‘No, sir. None.’

The answer had come out flat. Well, that was pretty final. Still …

‘OK, Phrontis,’ I said. ‘I might just-’

‘Hello, Corvinus. You wanted me?’

I turned. Clarus was coming in through the front door.

‘Oh, hi, pal,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t expecting you for another half hour, at least.’