David Wishart - White Murder

Critias’s bookshop. Where Perilla had found what’s-his-name’s Universal History. Yeah, well, I’d known that Uranius was a pretty strange guy for a slave, so I supposed literacy and a taste for reading weren’t too far over the top. ‘Uh… Galatea? ’ I said ‘That’s an unusual name, isn’t it, for a freeborn woman?’

As soon as I said it, I felt like biting my tongue off. For these two, the words ‘freeborn’ and ‘slave’ would have definite and unpleasant connotations. Freeborn women – especially ones from rich families – don’t marry slaves. It’s a legal as well as a social no-no: loss of citizenship’s only the start of the problem. And from what I’d seen of him, like the lady had said, Titus Natalis wasn’t the sort to give a fatherly blessing to the alliance. Star-crossed lovers was right.

The girl had reddened. ‘It’s just a nickname. Daddy gave it to me when I was a child. He’s from Sicily, you know.’

Galatea. The nymph the Sicilian cyclops Polyphemus was stuck on. Yeah, well, given the current situation and Uranius’s physical appearance, if not the lady’s, that had a certain irony to it in itself. Who says coincidences don’t happen?

‘Galatea’s father wants her to marry into a purple-striper family.’ Uranius was squeezing the girl’s hand. ‘He’s got…ambitions. But we thought…we thought maybe -’

‘We thought if Uranius could earn enough to buy his freedom it would at least be a start,’ Galatea said. ‘Certainly it would remove the legal barrier. Daddy’s not as hard as he seems, not where family’s concerned. There’s always the chance that I can…bring him round eventually.’

And now with Pegasus dead and the Whites on the up-and-up all that was back on the cards, I thought, and caught myself guiltily. Shit, no; that was pure kite-flying. Uranius was no killer. No way, nohow, never. Anyway, I’d bet when the bastard was getting himself stabbed in Renatius’s alley he’d been here swapping sweet nothings with his fiancée under Theogenia’s eagle eye. Which reminded me. I turned to Uranius.

‘When we talked at the stables I asked you if you knew who Pegasus was planning to meet at the wineshop. You said you didn’t know. You like to change that answer now, maybe?’

His eyes flickered. ‘No.’

I sighed. ‘I’m sorry, but you’re a bad liar, pal. I knew that at the time and I know it now. So who was it?’

‘I told you the truth, Corvinus. I didn’t know Pegasus was meeting anyone. And he wasn’t likely to take me into his confidence, was he?’

I couldn’t leave it there. The guy had beans to spill, that was sure, and whatever they were they were important. ‘Okay. But you saw something. Or someone. Now look, I really don’t want to hassle you but I have to know, right? So cut the prevarication.’

He hesitated and glanced at Galatea.

‘Go on,’ she said quietly. ‘Tell him.’

Uranius swallowed and nodded. ‘All right. I’d been here and I was on my way back, walking along Iugarius. There was a crowd outside Renatius’s wineshop and a couple of slaves were carrying someone out of the alley on a stretcher, but I didn’t stop to see what was going on because I was late. I’d gone about a hundred yards when someone banged into me from behind and knocked me over, then kept on running.’ He paused. ‘He was pretty distressed. I doubt if he even saw me. He certainly didn’t look back.’

The hairs on my neck rose. ‘But you recognised him, right?’

Another swallow. ‘Yes. I did. Of course I did.’

Long silence. I waited.

Galatea squeezed his hand. ‘Uranius? Corvinus is right. He has to know.’

Uranius looked at me. The guy wasn’t happy, that was sure. ‘It was the boss’s son,’ he said. ‘Cario.’

It was too late in the afternoon to go all the way back up to the Whites’ stables that day, and besides I needed to think this through before I confronted Cario. The guy had questions to answer, sure he did, but at least the air was a lot clearer. I could scratch Uranius from the list of suspects, anyway. I’d confirmed the timings with Theogenia quietly on my way out, and our lovesick Whites driver had a cast-iron alibi: all that poor sap was guilty of was covering up an affair that, if it had come to light, would’ve at best split the pair and at worst left him dead in an alley of his own. Galatea had been right on that count: her father wasn’t the type to accept a wannabe ex-slave as a son-in-law, not when he had the entrée into high society through Prince Gaius and his pals, and although as far as looks went she wasn’t much of a catch Daddy’s bank balance would be a pretty strong incentive for any poverty-stricken noble. Added to which, I’d bet that if and when he did find out about the engagement Natalis would have both the ruthlessness and the contacts to terminate it with extreme prejudice forthwith.

So. Home. I left the tenement, carried on up the road until it joined with Tuscan Street and then headed for Circus Valley and the long hike up the Caelian. I could’ve murdered a jug of wine, but that could wait until I got in. Also, although it hadn’t been a particularly strenuous day a lot of it had involved just standing around, and I was physically and mentally knackered. Besides, there was the Bathyllus situation to check up on. Before I’d left that morning Perilla had said that the next stage of the operation was all ready to roll: she’d put together her cultural guide book for the little guy to mug up, Lysias had had a word in the perfumed ear of his next-door girlfriend, and arrangements had been made for our shy major-domo to tag along with his two-ton inamorata on her daily shopping trip. He’d be back by now, hopefully bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and ready with his report. That I was looking forward to with a sort of horrible fascination.

There was no sign of him when I got in, just one of the kitchen skivvies doing duty as a door-slave. I sent the kid scurrying for a jug of Setinian, and went through to the living-room. Perilla was on the couch with Ephorus of Cyme. I gave her the usual kiss.

‘Bathyllus not back yet?’ I said.

‘No, Marcus.’ She laid the roll aside. ‘I’m getting rather concerned. Mind you, the list I gave him was quite exhaustive.’

‘Didn’t you tell him to spin it out? It’s the only courting ammunition the guy’s got. If he fires it off all at once next time it’ll have to be the bugs.’

‘Spinning things out entails having other things to talk about in the spaces, dear. I think that may be Bathyllus’s problem.’

‘Yeah. Right.’ I stretched out on my own couch.

‘So. How was your day? Did you find where Uranius goes when he isn’t where he should be?’

‘Uh-huh.’ I told her about Galatea and Theogenia’s flat.

‘But that’s dreadful! The poor girl!’

‘It’s the way the world works, lady. There’s nothing you can do about it. Personally I think that if she has the idea that Uranius buying his freedom will change Daddy’s mind for him she’s whistling through her ear.’ The skivvy came in with the magic tray. I poured a belt of Setinian, downed it in one and refilled the cup. Nectar! ‘We had one more plus. Cammius’s boy Cario has jumped a couple of notches up the suspect list. Uranius saw him running away after the murder.’

Perilla frowned. ‘ Right after the murder? But I thought you said that Uranius was with his girlfriend at the time.’

‘Not right after the murder. Uranius was passing when the Watch were doing their little tap-dance. He saw Cario a couple of minutes later when the guy was haring in the direction of Triumph Road.’

‘Then the timing’s wrong, surely. If Cario were the killer then he would have been gone long before that.’