David Wishart - White Murder

The lady’s eyes widened. ‘But Marcus,’ she said, ‘Whites and Blues are allies. Why should the Blues want him dead?’

‘They’re only allies from the outside. I’ve met the Blues boss, and the guy was radiating jealousy so hard you could feel the heat. Whites are supposed to be second-stringers: they make the chances, but they don’t win the races. Or they shouldn’t. Pegasus was a first-rate driver, he played to win, the Blues are going through a bad patch and come the new season White looked set to cream them in any race the guy ran. Obsession again, but this time there’s face involved. Getting beat by the Greens is one thing, but the Whites are another matter. Sure, I’ve no reason for fingering Acceptus, but if we’re talking motive he’s got just as much as any.’ I spooned in another mouthful of chickpeas.

Perilla was quiet for a long time. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘You said all the factions. What about the Greens and Reds.’

I shifted on my couch. ‘Take the Reds first. As far as racing goes, they’ve no real axe to grind. They’re not in contention, they run point for the Greens. The motive there’s personal. According to the guy I talked to at the stables Pegasus has been carrying on with the Red boss’s wife and cutting out their lead driver.’

‘Ah.’

‘“Ah” is right, lady. Pure sex, the oldest motive in the world. Sure, the affair’s been going on for five or six months, but the husband’s usually the last to know in situations like that. I haven’t come across him yet so I’ve nothing to go on, but I doubt he’d be too happy. Certainly it’s worth chasing.’

‘What about the driver?’

‘Guy called Laomedon. He’s a definite possibility. He has a reputation on the track, and Pegasus cut him up in the Plebeian Games. Reading between the lines, I’d guess the two of them had been needling each other since the lady made the switch.’ I topped up my cup. ‘Could be the needling turned into something more serious.’

‘Five or six months on?’

‘Why not? Maybe he’s the waiting type. Or he could just have seized his opportunity.’

Perilla sighed. ‘Marcus, there are too many suspects.’

‘Be grateful. It’s better than having just a body and nowhere to point the finger.’ I pushed the chickpeas away and reached for a dish of cold pork. ‘Besides, I haven’t finished yet. Not by a long chalk.’

‘Oh, yes. The Greens.’

‘They’re the most interesting of the lot.’ I bit into the sliced pork. It was one of Meton’s favourite recipes: dry-marinated in salt, pepper and sage then cooked with a cumin sauce. ‘First, they’ve got the best motive of all for wanting the guy in an urn. He was their top driver, he’d been with them for years and he knew the ins and outs of their stables, and I get the impression that that’s important in the racing game. Every faction has its secrets, and a major transfer to the opposition could put them at risk.’

‘Fair enough, as far as it goes,’ Perilla said. ‘Although as with your Laomedon I’d’ve expected them to make their move sooner. Second?’

‘Second’s the business with the missing purse. That was a cover-up if ever I saw one, and the only question is whether the Watch boss was acting off his own bat or if he’d had instructions.’

‘There wouldn’t have been time for that, surely. Valgius sent his men round straight away.’

‘He could’ve known that the murder was going to happen in advance.’

‘Oh, Corvinus! That is pure conspiracy theory!’

‘Sure it is. All the same, it fits. By all accounts the bastard’s about as straight as a viper’s backbone. It would explain the murderer’s choice of Renatius’s, too. If Pegasus was decoyed there, which I think he was, then it’d be Valgius’s lads who were called in.’

‘If we’re going to posit that degree of planning then why didn’t the killer take the purse in the first place?’

‘How should I know? Maybe it was just a slip. And they couldn’t’ve counted on an eagle-eyed sleuth like me being first to the body.’

‘Hah!’

‘Hah as much as you like. The cover-up still happened.’

Perilla ducked her head. ‘All right. That was point two. Point three?’

I paused for another slice of the pork and helped it down with a mouthful of wine. ‘Point three’s a curious one. I’m not sure where or how it fits in yet, but one gets you ten it’s important. Just before he joined the Whites Pegasus got mixed up in a fist-fight outside a wineshop, with an ex-employee. The lads who were with him stood back and let the fight happen. Pegasus was beaten up.’

‘Marcus, I’m sorry but I don’t see what relevance -’

‘Jupiter, lady! Pegasus was the Greens’ top driver! A) there’s such a thing as faction solidarity, and b) where there are races at stake you don’t let anyone damage your best asset. Yet Pegasus’s mates sat on their hands while Sopilys took him apart. You don’t think that maybe there’s a slight inconsistency there?’

‘Ah.’ Perilla frowned. ‘Yes, I suppose that is rather curious.’

‘You bet your socks.’

‘You don’t know the reason for the quarrel?’

I shook my head. ‘The guy in the wineshop either didn’t know himself or he wasn’t telling. Whatever it was, Pegasus was in a minority of one, and feelings were running pretty high.’

‘High enough for Pegasus to move factions shortly afterwards, perhaps?’

‘Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.’

‘So what could the reason have been? In theory?’

‘Jupiter knows. Something to do with the racing side, certainly, because it seems that’s the only thing these buggers take seriously. Maybe he was running some sort of scam, giving away faction secrets or selling races. That’s my best bet, anyway. We’ll just have to try and find out.’

The lady’s brow was still furrowed. ‘Marcus,’ she said slowly, ‘you say Pegasus was waiting for someone in Renatius’s wineshop. If he was venal then perhaps he was playing the same game with the Whites.’

Yeah; that was a connection I’d been toying with. ‘It’s possible, sure,’ I said. ‘Cammius jumped to the same conclusion.’

‘So if Cammius had found out then perhaps he set Pegasus up himself.’

I stared at her. ‘Jupiter, Perilla, that doesn’t make sense! Cammius is -!’

‘No, wait. If he were relying on Pegasus to win races and he found that his new driver was planning to cheat him then he would have a reason for killing him. Or am I wrong?’

No, she wasn’t wrong; or not far wrong, anyway. It was a theory, sure, one that hadn’t occurred to me, and having met the guy I’d say where the faction was involved he might well be capable of murder, especially a well-planned one like this. However. ‘Cammius wouldn’t’ve needed to go to these lengths, Perilla. Besides, there are two major points against. One, Pegasus was the Whites’ key to the future. He’d be no good to Cammius dead. Two, I swear Cammius knew nothing about a meeting. He could be a good actor, sure, but he felt genuine. And Pegasus’s death had hit the guy hard. That he wasn’t faking, no way, nohow, never.’ I grinned. ‘Besides, more suspects we don’t need at this stage.’

Perilla sniffed. ‘All right. Although that’s hardly a reason in itself. Is that everyone?’

‘Uh…not quite.’

‘Oh, Corvinus!’

‘Pegasus had been getting fixes.’ I told her about the conversation at the Whites stables with Typhon and Hesper, and the flying dagger tablets. She laughed.

‘Marcus, you are not advancing a curse as a plausible cause of death!’

I flushed: me, like I say, I keep an open mind on witches, but Perilla isn’t rational on the subject. ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘We’re talking motives here, remember? Whoever was responsible stipulated a death by knife. Pegasus was stabbed. Wriggle all you like, you can’t just write that off as a coincidence.’