David Wishart - White Murder

‘So, Tyndaris,’ I said, ‘how’re you settling in?’

‘Very well, sir, thank you. Being in Rome’s nice. I was in Baiae last. A nice town with very nice people, sir. Quiet out of season, but nice, you know?’

‘You, uh, made many friends here? So far?’ Next to me it sounded like Bathyllus had taken to gargling. I ignored him.

‘Not yet, sir. But I’ve been out and around shopping, and I’ve seen quite a bit of the place. Quite a change from Baiae.’

‘Yeah. I’d imagine it would be.’ Especially the nice bits around Suburan Street. On the promenade at Baiae you didn’t have to watch where you were putting your sandals and at the same time keep an eye out above for falling tenements.

‘I like them porches you have here with the pictures.’ She beamed, and the four chins jiggled in sympathy. ‘Lovely, they are. Baiae has a picture porch, of course, but it isn’t near as grand and the pictures aren’t as nice. I call in whenever I’m down the market and sit for a while. The master doesn’t mind. “So long as it’s culture and not the size of the men’s whatsits that interests you, my lass,” he says, “you can look at all the paintings you want.” Says it every time.’ The chins jiggled again. ‘He enjoys a good joke, the master. You can’t help but laugh.’

‘Right. Right.’ I nodded. Gods alive! Well, to each their bag, and if the lady enjoyed looking at coy nymphs and muscle-bound heroes while she was out buying the spring greens that was no concern of mine. However, it did give me an opening. ‘Ah…how about bugs?’

Her face clouded. ‘Bugs, sir? How d’you mean "bugs"?’

Bathyllus’s gargling ended in a choke. I studiously kept my eyes away from him. ‘Beetles. That sort of thing. You interested in them at all? On the collecting side?’

‘No, sir.’ I had the distinct impression that the lady had taken a sort of mental shuffle backwards, and I sighed inwardly. Add a word to that prefixed phrase above: ‘ mad wine-soaked bugger’. Well, it’d been an outside chance. A shared love of beetles might have brought two lonely hearts together. ‘I can’t say as I’ve ever really thought about it much.’ She cleared her throat nervously. ‘Now, if you don’t mind I’ll be getting on. I’ve a few things to buy for dinner.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, right. Uh, nice meeting you, Tyndaris. Wasn’t it, litt…Bathyllus?’

I finally looked at our major-domo. He was still puce, which with his bald pate made him look like a dyed egg, and he still had his manic grin.

‘Mph!’ he said. Very illuminating.

‘I’ll say good-day, then. Enjoy your afternoon, sir. Bathyllus.’ Over her shoulder, Tyndaris gave us both a look that could’ve come straight off one of her paintings; maybe the one in the Octavian Porch with the nymph Daphne fleeing Apollo. Given that the nymph Daphne was built like two hippos squeezed into the one skin and that she thought the god had been overdoing things with the prophetic herbs.

I watched until she’d rounded the corner. Then I took Bathyllus’s arm in a firm grip.

‘You and me, pal,’ I said, ‘are going to have a little talk.’

I frog-marched him into the atrium. No sign of Perilla, but maybe that was just as well.

‘Sit,’ I said, pointing to the lady’s usual couch.

‘Really, sir, I don’t see why -.’

‘Sit!’

Bathyllus sat.

‘Sir, I don’t see why I should be subjected to -’

‘Shut up, Bathyllus.’ Jupiter! It was worse than having a huffy teenager glaring back at you. Or maybe one of Perilla’s huffy philosopher mates, it came to the same thing. ‘You’re in love with this Tyndaris woman, right?’

‘Well, sir, ah I ah that is er I wouldn’t exactly say ah -’

‘Right.’ I stretched out on my own couch. I’d’ve killed for a jug of Setinian, but that would’ve meant letting the little bugger temporarily off the hook while he fetched it. ‘I’m glad we’ve got that setttled. You think you’re going to make an impression goggling at her like a fucking carp with laryngitis?’

‘Sir, carp don’t get -’

‘Shove it, sunshine, you know what I mean. That wasn’t a rhetorical question. I want an answer.’

It was a long time coming. Finally he said, without the ghost of a sniff: ‘No, sir.’

‘Great! Now we’re getting somewhere! So what do you propose to do about it?’

Pause; long pause. Then, when I’d almost given up waiting: ‘Absolutely nothing, sir.’

I stared at him. ‘You’re kidding!’

‘No. The lady is so far above me that -’

‘No arguments there, pal. She’s got quite a bit on you both sides too.’ I saw him wince. ‘Yeah, okay. Bad joke, poor taste. But that’s hardly positive thinking, is it?’

‘I’ve told you, sir. I have no intention whatsoever of engaging the lady’s affections. Should that be remotely possible.’

‘Why not?’

He goggled. ‘You don’t mean, sir, that you would countenance -?’

I held up a hand. ‘Bathyllus, listen to me carefully, because I’ll only ever say this once, right? I’ll make jokes, I’ll slag you off, but slave or not you’re family. That counts. So if you’re serious I’ll give you all the help I can. Understand?’

He was quiet for a long time. Then he said quietly: ‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’

‘Fine. So are you? Serious, I mean?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Gods! Me, I’d’ve run a mile, but who knew what strange, lascivious thoughts ran through that fevered brain? ‘Okay. Let’s take it from there.’ I reached for a non-existent wine-cup. Bugger. ‘The main problem as far as I can see is approach. Up to now you’ve come across with all the force of a wet dishtowel. At least, judging by how today’s little meeting went. Right?’

He swallowed and nodded.

‘On the other hand, she seemed friendly enough when she came up to us, so maybe I’m being overcritical. I – ah – understand that wasn’t your first encounter.’

‘That is correct, sir. I called over a few days ago to borrow some metal polish.’

‘And?’

‘Nothing else, sir. Only the metal polish.’

Jupiter on skates! ‘No, Bathyllus I meant, what happened then?’

‘I borrowed the metal polish, sir.’

The gods give me patience. ‘You didn’t talk to the lady? Not at all?’

‘I identified myself, sir. And I said that I would return it as soon as possible. Which I did.’

‘Right. Right. Very commendable.’ Count to ten, Corvinus. Scratch that; make it twenty. ‘But you didn’t, uh, have any sort of conversation? Like for example asking her where she was from and how she was enjoying her new job? Simple, everyday, basic things like that?’

‘No, sir.’

‘But you were already, uh, smitten?’

‘Yes, sir. Very much so.’

Priapus in a marrow patch! We’d an uphill struggle here, I could tell that now. ‘Uh, Bathyllus, pal, forgive me for asking you this, but, uh, have you had, uh, anything to do with women at all in your life? I mean, uh, privately, as it were?’

‘Oh, yes, sir. There was a girl in Brindisi, before your father bought me.’

That was promising. Maybe Bathyllus wasn’t as sexually naive as I’d thought. A cosmopolitan town, Brindisi. ‘And?’

‘She was the one who introduced me to beetles, sir. We spent many happy hours looking for them.’

Shit. ‘That’s all? The whole story? The two of you, uh, beetled together?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘What happened to the girl?’

‘She married a bricklayer, sir.’

‘Uh-huh. And nothing else happened? In the, uh, interim period? Nothing whatsoever?’

‘No, sir.’

I sighed. Well, at least we were one step ahead of the game this time: after my own conversation with Tyndaris I was pretty sure we could scratch the beetles. All the same, I felt a bit like Hercules must’ve done when he had his first sight of the Augean stables. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘This is what we do…’