Lindsey Davis - The Accusers

'He liked a tipple, but he was a good satirist. He went to the heart of a man's character. And he had judgement. He knew what was permissible, what was too sensitive.'

'Not in the Metellus case. The family sacked him.'

'Ah.' Tiasus took a long breath, with his mouth wide open. He had gum problems. 'Well, I don't know the story there, and that's the problem. Spindex was let go – but they never told me why.'

'Who dismissed him? Was it the son?'

'No…' Tiasus looked thoughtful. 'No, I think it was another man.

'Name?'

'I never knew that.'

'Licinius Lutea? He's a friend of the son; I think he was helping Negrinus at the funeral.'

'Means nothing,' said Tiasus. 'It was a freedman who assisted. I had a few words with him in a quiet moment. Alexander, he was called.'

'Not him who paid off Spindex?'

'Er… No. Possibly a relative?' Tiasus quavered. This was hard work.

'A brother-in-law?' I suggested. 'Canidianus Rufus, Rubiria Juliana's husband?'

'Yes, perhaps…'But then Tiasus wavered yet again. 'I don't think it was Rufus. He had a right temper; I remember him! I think the second one dealt with Spindex.'

'Second brother-in-law? Laco? Verginius Laco, the husband of Carina, the woman who got upset?'

'Yes, that was him.'

Dear gods, just when you think you have scanned all the scenery, up pops some new participant.

The two doves had finished. The female preened, looking as if she wondered what the fuss had been. The male thought he might be up for another go. She shrugged off his nonsense. The deformed nymph shivered mournfully. Part of her drape had been chipped off in an accident.

'Do you think Spindex discovered something about Metellus or his family, something they did not wish the world to hear?'

'Oh no doubt of it,' Tiasus exclaimed. 'It must have been a stupendous secret! Wouldn't it be wonderful, Falco, if we knew just what?'

I agreed dourly.

I went to visit Rubiria Carina's husband.

For once, he was at home and he agreed to meet me. He was more than a decade older than his wife, a thin, cultured man who implied he was being more patient than I deserved. 'You have always refused to be interviewed, citing your privacy,' I reminded him. 'Now will you answer me?'

'You can ask. I may not be free to answer.' Interesting: why?

'So what changed your mind?'

'You intend to accuse my mother-in-law of killing her spouse.' He was a man of some refinement; I omitted the obvious son-in-law jokes. 'Do you think Calpurnia did it?'

'No,' he said.

'There is a case to answer,' I told him. 'Metellus made unhealthy provision for his daughter-in-law, and disinherited his wife. It's vicious and it's public; Calpurnia Cara must be furious. Murky circumstances cloud what happened when Metellus died.' Laco shrugged. He wanted to see what I knew. 'At first I was told that your wife refused to go to lunch that day – but she says she was not invited.'

'No.'

'Neither of you?'

'I was not close to Metellus. I would have gone if my wife did.'

I did not feel this man would lie. Yet although we had been told he and Carina stayed aloof, now I knew he had been operating on behalf of the Metellus family.

'Did you see Rubirius Metellus just before he died?'

' No.'

'Did you see Negrinus?'

'No.'

'There is a suggestion that he was away.'

'I cannot answer for his movements.'

'I'll ask him. It is important.' Laco looked surprised. 'Laco, if he was away, someone else poisoned his father and Birdy has an alibi.'

At once Laco retracted: 'He may have travelled to Lanuvium. It was around the time of the suicide.'

'It was definitely not suicide. Rubirius Metellus collapsed in his garden, not in his bed – and I know that was about three days before the body was paraded for the witnesses.'

Had he known this? Laco gave nothing away. He was reclining on a reading couch, where he now simply linked his hands and looked thoughtful. He had long, almost elderly fingers. With thinning hair and an old-fashioned expression he seemed too mature to be the father of three young children, though this was common enough among the senatorial class. Both he and Carina gave the impression they were content in their marriage. They were comfortable in their domesticity – and so they should be. Theirs was domesticity with battalions of slaves, and gold finials on the furniture. I had called here more than once, and not seen the same slave twice.

Nor had I heard any music, been charmed by a vase of flowers on a side table, seen a scroll lying half-read, nor caught advanced scents of dinner. This was a cold house. It had a cold, unemotional master – and yet, he allowed his wife to give sanctuary to a brother who was implicated in a corruption scandal and now charged with parricide.

'Don't ask me what really went on, because I don't know – but I will find out. I sympathise with your position.' I spoke levelly. It seemed best to show restraint. 'Your wife's family must have become an embarrassment.'

'My wife and I,' replied Laco, 'live with the troubles of her family as stoically as we can.'

'That's generous! Do you know who their banker is?'

I had abruptly changed the subject, but Laco did not seem startled. 'Aufustius.'

'Same as Licinius Lutea! What do you think of Lutea?' Laco shrugged. 'Not your type? A bit of an entrepreneur, I gather… Tell me,' I sprang on him, 'what happened two years ago?'

Verginius Laco made no reply.

'The Metelli were happy and prosperous,' I pointed out. 'Then they became desperate financially and something tore them apart. I think it had to do with Metellus and his partiality for Saffia Donata. Legally that was incest, of course. I can see why it is being shuffled under a mattress, so to speak…' Laco simply let me speculate. 'You have been helping to keep this great secret. When the clown Spindex discovered it, you undertook his dismissal.' Laco did not deny my claim. 'That was dangerous. Deprived of his fee, the clown might have sought public revenge.'

'No,' said Laco patiently. 'I paid him off, Falco.' He was not stupid. Of all the people on this case, I reckoned him the most intelligent. In his way, he was being quite open. I formed a picture of him coolly dealing with Spindex on behalf of the rest of the family – though I sensed it had needed his own money.

'You paid him well?'

He nodded, wryly. I was right about the cash.

'Spindex is dead.' I passed on the news conversationally. 'Strangled. I don't imagine you organised that, so there must be someone else with an interest in guarding the Metellus secret.'

Verginius Laco made no comment.

'Someone else knows, Laco. Spindex had a source. It may even have been his source who silenced him. I'll find the source eventually. Now it's a murder hunt, the vigiles are on it.'

Still nothing.

'I understand your position, Laco. You know the story, but you are a man of honour. You stand aside, except when you can give practical help. Maybe when you do act, it is to protect your wife. I suspect you disapprove of the way the family are handling matters. I think, if it was your choice, you would tell me the secret and have done.'

For a moment I felt Laco was about to say something.

But he did not.

That night we reviewed the case thoroughly. Time was short. We decided to opt for a trial of Calpurnia Cara now, and hope to discover more evidence as we went along. This was dangerous. I did realise that – though at the time I failed to grasp just how dangerous it would be for me personally.

'You have no direct evidence to link Calpurnia with the killing,' Helena pointed out. 'This will not be easy. She is not a woman to confess.'

'Trials are not decided by evidence, but arguments,' said Honorius, playing the expert. 'All we have to do is suggest strenuously that Calpurnia did it.'