Lindsey Davis - Ode to a Banker

'Lysa!' I saluted her, grinning as I got my breath. 'You're looking lovely! Are you a bride yet?'

She was richly clad, though in restrained taste. The heavy gold necklace looked like a Greek antique; it would certainly have cost enough to make Vibia jealous. Lysa coped with the summer heat by covering up – long sleeves and dark material in her gown. No trace of perspiration marred the olive skin. Her eye colours were lightly applied, so they would not run, and from within the enclosed space of the carrying chair a draught of expensive perfume rose sensually.

'What do you want, Falco?'

'I think I must be dreaming. I could swear I just saw you embracing the widow up the street.'

If she was annoyed at being under surveillance, she hid it well. 'Vibia and I have a civilised relationship.'

I whistled. I could remember Lysa calling Vibia a 'little cow'. 'I thought you hated giving up your husband to her. How come you are now cooing like love birds?'

'Hardly that!'

Vibia is still living in your old home, I see.' This time my probing produced slightly narrowed eyes. 'Was the house included with the scriptorium in her inheritance?'

'I gave it to her as a gift,' conceded Lysa, rather reluctantly. I whistled. 'Some gift!'

'I have a generous nature.' Even Lysa could see this was ridiculous. She was a businesswoman with iron talons. 'Oh, it's no secret. Vibia extracted it from me.'

'How?'

'Never mind.'

'You said it was not a secret.'

'Well – it was her price for helping to arrange something…' When I looked sceptical, Lysa was forced to explain. 'Diomedes is to be married to a young relative of Vibia's.'

'My word, your family does love weddings! Are you planning a joint ceremony the day you hitch up with Lucrio? What thrilling news for Diomedes too – good match?'

Lysa calmly ignored my jibes. 'A charming girl. Elegant and cultured – and from a prime family. Good people, with plenty of connections.' Ah! I had thought Vibia common, but that was a response to her personal behaviour; it by no means ruled out social rank. Plenty of solid citizens have female relations who sound like scallop-sellers and who overdo the face powder. Lysa continued, 'They have been clients of the bank for years, of course; we know them very well.'

'Your son is on his way then?'

Lysa smiled contentedly. 'Oh yes,' she assured me. 'Everything is perfect now.'

I let her go. Another cameo for me to add to my curious collection.

The old dame with the shopping basket tottered up at that point and had a good stare at me. I could tell she regarded herself as a guardian of community life. Some harassed fellow's mother, no doubt. She was the kind who plies to and fro, collecting half a cabbage then returning for a sprat, hoping to brighten her day with a chance to spy on strangers.

When I retraced my footsteps, I nearly stopped at the corner popina. Again, the waiter was standing there – a tall, thin-faced young fellow in a short leather apron, keenly watching me. They were a nosy lot in this Clivus. His stare put me off. I knew the bar was the authors' meeting place. The waiter had that infallible air of wanting to chat, whether I liked it or not. Distrustful, I kept going.

I might have gone to tackle Vibia, but instead I met Euschemon, the same shaggy, shambling bundle with his usual unkempt hair and an abstracted expression. He was leaving the scriptorium but paused for a chat. I told him about the affectionate scene I had witnessed, wondering if it would affect his former loyalty. 'I don't know how they can do it!' he grumbled.

'What's that?'

'People are strange, Falco.'

'True. I was surprised to hear about this marriage. It sounded as if Vibia is being used by the Chrysippus family as Diomedes' social vaulting horse?'

'Oh, the Chrysippi obtain high interest rates from everyone,' said Euschemon cryptically. He refused to be drawn further, but I was beginning to understand what he meant. Diomedes must have had the path to social acceptance carefully mapped out for him. Did the scheme go right back to his father's own remarriage? I wondered. Was Vibia Merulla just part of the advancement plan Chrysippus worked out for his son? And if so, did Lysa know all along?

'Euschemon, I thought Vibia did not look quite as happy as Lysa was.'

He laughed under his breath. 'Well, she wouldn't.'

'Why is that?'

'I could not comment, Falco.'

His tone of voice was a clue. I took a wild guess. 'Don't tell me – Lysa has drawn Vibia into arranging Diomedes' marriage – not knowing that Diomedes, frequenting the house to see his father, had happened to catch the eye of Vibia herself?'

Euschemon corrected me on one small point: 'Lysa knows perfectly well that Vibia lusts after him.'

Wonderful. This tangle was turning into a full-blooded Greek tragedy.

'And does Diomedes return his stepmother's interest?'

'I am not interested in scandal and gossip. I have no idea.' When people say that, it always means they know.

This was too good to leave alone. I went back inside the house. Passus was still in the Greek library. He had now sorted theremnants of the tangle of papyrus recovered at the crime scene into two piles, though he was holding a few extra scrolls and looking perplexed.

'Back again?' The new man had grown more used to me. He was joshing in a mild way, as the old stagers did. 'Look, Falco, I'm having a problem with the last few of these. I think there are two different manuscripts without titles, and one of them seems to be in two different versions.'

I went right into the room this time. 'What have you found then?'

'Well, I've worked out that those scrolls on the floor with the body were all authors' draft manuscripts. The handwriting tends to be illegible and some are full of crossings out. A lot are scrawled on the backs of old stuff too – and some have insertions cross-hatched on them.'

'They are not ready for sale. Chrysippus must have been deciding which to publish. He was reviewing them – then interviewing some of the authors. Make sense?'

'Yes!' Passus consulted a note-tablet. 'I found some rejections among them. Poems by someone called Martialis had had scrawled on them, "Who is this? No – crap!" in red ink. And Constrictus – one of his regulars – had a submission where Chrysippus put "Usual fluff – Small edition; reduce payment."'

'Any good?'

'Sex and waffle. I couldn't be bothered to read it. The poetry was straightforward and I've just listed it. Now I'm stuck. But what's left is more my taste anyway.' He gestured to the untitled scrolls he was still trying to sort out 'Adventures; they have a romantic story, but the people spend most of their time separated and in trouble, so they never get too sloppy.'

I laughed. 'You're a fan of Greek novels!' Passus looked offended, then went red. 'No, I'm sorry. I'm not sneering, Passus. It's a change to have some culture in the vigiles. Look, Helena likes a yarn.' Helena Justina read everything. 'I want these with the missing titles to be fully evaluated. If you can carry on reading the one you've already started, I'll take the other scrolls home and get Helena to skim through – she's a very fast reader.'

Passus looked crestfallen. I told him with a smile that when Helena had finished he could have the scrolls back to read. He cheered up.

'Well, perhaps she can sort out the story that has two versions,' he suggested, quick to shed the most awkward job.

'I can try her with it… I'm going upstairs now for a word with the lovely Vibia.'

'I'll keep an ear out, Falco. If I hear a scream, I'll know you need rescuing.'

'Watch it. You stick with that adventure scroll. It might even tell us something useful.'

A staircase led to the upper reaches from near the main entrance door. It was curtained off; until I had seen Vibia gliding up on her glittery sandals earlier today, I had hardly noticed it.