David Wishart - Last Rites

So that was that; all I was getting, seemingly, from either of these two beauties. Gods! What a family!

Skin crawling, I made my goodbyes and left.

I went back via the fluteplayers’ guildhouse. Thalia hadn’t been in.

‘It’s most provoking.’ Celer was shuffling wax tablets in his office. ‘She missed her engagement two nights ago, the day you were in last. Not a word, sir, not a dicky-bird, and with all these bookings to fill I’m short-handed as it is. Luckily I managed to get Aegle to cover, but the client was most disappointed. One of the Domitii, too; I mean the Domitii, you understand. Good paying customers, and you can’t afford to offend them. I shall be having very strong words with that young lady, sir, you may be assured.’

I was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling. ‘You, uh, don’t think something might have happened to her?’ I said.

‘What, Thalia?’ Celer chuckled. ‘Why should anything happen to Thalia? She’s as strong as a horse, she can take care of herself and anyone after her virtue would have a hard time finding it. She certainly wouldn’t bother putting up a struggle. No, sir, rest assured she’s hooked herself a fancy boyfriend and he’s waltzed her off somewhere for the Winter Festival.’

‘She’s done this before, then?’

‘No. I can’t say that she has.’ Celer banged the wax tablets down hard. ‘But I tell you this, she won’t do it again. Not after I’ve finished with her.’

‘Yeah. Right.’ Well, there was no point hanging around this little ray of sympathy, that was sure. I might drop in on Aegle again, though, while I was in the neighbourhood, see if she had any information she wasn’t passing on to head office. ‘The arrangement stands, okay? She turns up, you send her along.’

‘Of course.’

‘Good.’ My hand was on the door when another thought hit me. ‘By the way, Celer, you haven’t had anyone else asking about the girls, have you? Especially what girls were playing at the Good Goddess rite?’

‘We have enquiries all the time, sir. Naturally enough. Although I can say categorically that no one – apart from the consul’s wife herself, of course – asked about which had been selected for the ceremony.’

‘The consul’s wife? Aemilia?’

‘Naturally. She organised the non-religious side, sir, as the hostess of the rites always does. I provided her with a list of names in advance. Simply a matter of form, of course, since they would mean nothing to her.’

‘Is that so, now?’ We could be on to something here; my scalp was tingling. ‘Would that include the update? With Thalia’s name on it?’

‘Oh, yes. In fact that would be the only one she’d have. I don’t send it until the day before the ceremony, unless of course the lady requires it.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Interesting. So; Aemilia had had a list of flutegirls ahead of time, had she? That little nugget of information might not be particularly significant at the moment, but you never knew what the future would bring. I filed it away for future use. ‘One last thing. One of your general questioners wouldn’t be a Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, would he? Young guy, early twenties -’

Celer was smiling. ‘Oh, yes, sir. You needn’t go on. I know the young gentleman very well. He’s a regular customer, in fact.’

‘Is that right?’ Yeah, well, I suppose it was inevitable, given the kid’s lifestyle. And I didn’t take Lepida’s jibe about him being a pathic too seriously; that had been dislike speaking, to put it at its mildest. ‘Did he ever ask for Thalia, incidentally? By name, I mean?’

Celer’s smile broadened. ‘Most of the young men ask for Thalia, sir, at one time or another. Aemilius Lepidus is no different.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Well, that was that; the missing link, so obvious it was laughable. In its circumstantial details the case was falling into place like the stones in a good mosaic. Maybe Lepidus had been the killer after all. ‘Thanks, Celer,’ I said. ‘If Thalia shows up send her round, okay?’

Aegle wasn’t at home either but a neighbour pointed me to a cookshop where she often went for lunch, and there she was, sitting in a corner, tucking into a couple of small rissoles and a big plate of winter greens. She glanced up as I caught her eye, then looked away quickly. It would seem that I wasn’t flavour of the month today with flutegirls, either.

Breakfast had been a long time ago and I was starving. I ran an assessing eye over the place; always a good idea with cookshops you don’t know, especially in areas like the Subura. This one looked okay. It was full, for a start, and that was a plus: establishments where customers are carried out green and groaning tend to lose their regular clientele pretty rapidly, one way or another. The food looked the right side of edible, too, and none of it had that tell-tale crust you get when the dish of the day was also the dish of yesterday and, if you’re really unlucky, special offer of the month. I ordered a sausage, a bowl of beans and bread and a cup of their best wine and carried it over to Aegle’s table.

‘Hi,’ I said, sitting down opposite her.

Her eyes were fixed on her plate; rabbit food, but I supposed she’d need to think about her figure. She didn’t look up. ‘What do you want now, Corvinus?’

Well, at least she remembered my name. ‘I’m still looking for Thalia. You know where she could be?’

‘No. Ask Celer.’

‘I’ve asked. He’s chewing the tiles because she hasn’t reported in for days.’

‘I know.’ She’d condescended to make eye contact now. I noticed she hadn’t put any make-up over the strawberry birthmark. Probably because make-up was too expensive to use off duty. Or maybe she just couldn’t be bothered. ‘I did a slot for her a couple of days back. Celer’s just lucky it’s the slow season.’

I started in on the bread and beans and sausage. ‘Slow season?’ I said. ‘That wasn’t the impression he gave me, sister.’

‘He wouldn’t. Celer’s a natural moaner. First half of December there isn’t much happening religion-wise barring the Good Goddess and the Agonalia. The wedding and dinner party market’s pretty quiet as well.’

‘What about funerals?’

That got me the almost-half-smile. ‘Oh, there’re always funerals. Death’s a nice steady earner. What’s your business with Thalia, anyway?’

Good question. At the start I’d been looking for an elusive flutegirl, but now apart from the mechanics of how Lepidus had worked things there couldn’t be much she could tell me that I didn’t know. Maybe it was just the fact that I couldn’t talk with her that kept me looking. Also a touch of coldness in the pit of my stomach when I wondered about why that was. ‘I just want a few words,’ I said. ‘Check up on the information I’ve already got. And I must admit I’m curious about where she’s disappeared to.’

‘Yeah.’ Aegle frowned and spooned in some of the chopped-up winter greens. ‘It’s not like her, I’ll give you that. Apart from losing out on the work she isn’t exactly making herself popular with the other girls. No one minds covering, but if you know you’ll miss a slot you’re careful to give notice.’

‘You don’t think she could be in some kind of trouble?’

Aegle hesitated, then set down her spoon. ‘This time yesterday I’d’ve said no; but four days, that’s a long time. Now I’d have to say maybe.’

‘Uh-huh.’ The cold feeling got worse. I took a careful sip of the wine. ‘Okay. So where else do we look before we blow the whistle?’

‘Her flat, certainly. Then there’s Valgius.’

‘Valgius?’

‘Her boyfriend. Or at least her fallback boyfriend. He’s a clerk at the citizen registration office.’