David Wishart - Last Rites

It was a question I’d’ve liked to know the answer to myself, but I wasn’t biting.

‘Is he in at the moment?’ I said.

‘I’ve really no idea.’ She stood up, took a sip of wine and refilled the cup from the jug. I noticed she didn’t offer me any more. Not that I’d finished what I’d got, mind; I’d had other things to worry about.

‘You think you could find out, maybe?’ I said carefully.

She looked at me, eyes wide. Her mouth made an ‘O’ and she smiled. Then, still holding the jug, she sauntered over to the door, opened it and yelled, ‘Venustus!’

He must’ve been hanging around within earshot because he came padding along the corridor like a tame mastiff. I caught the shift of his eye to the wine jug and then to the drape of my mantle, but his face was expressionless.

‘Yes, madam,’ he said.

‘Is my father at home?’

‘He was out earlier but he’s just arrived back, madam. I believe he’s in his study.’

‘Good. Tell him Marcus Corvinus here would like a word.’ Before the slave could acknowledge the order she’d shut the door in his face and walked back over to the couch. ‘Do you mind if I watch?’

‘Watch what, lady?’

‘You confronting Father, of course. It ought to be fun.’ She set the jug down on the floor and stretched out on the blue velvet. ‘You’re sure you don’t want to fuck? It’d pass the time while we wait, and Venustus won’t come in when he gets back. He has strict orders not to.’

‘No.’

‘Does that mean you’re not sure? Or that you’re not interested?’

‘Tell me about Aemilia and Galba.’

She sat up. ‘What?’

‘You wanted to pass the time. Let’s do it my way. When I was here last you said you were a friend of Aemilia’s.’

‘I said she was a distant cousin and that she’d tried to strike up a friendship.’ That was sharp. ‘Aemilia’s an empty-headed pain and a social crawler. She’d like to be a femme fatale but she hasn’t even the working talents of a common whore.’

Ouch. ‘You don’t like her, then?’

Lepida laughed. ‘No. Not a great deal. She has appalling taste; positively crude at times. She was lucky to get Licinius Murena for a lover, even if he is only using her as an in with her husband. I’ve had him myself, on this very couch, in fact, and he’s not bad.’

‘Is that right, now?’

‘I’d give him seven out of ten. With perhaps another point for effort. It won’t last, naturally, not now Galba’s reached the end of his consular year.’ She ducked her head to hide a smile. ‘And you’re being stuffy again, Corvinus. Oh, don’t mistake me; I do have some sympathy for the poor dear. It isn’t easy to be married to a man who ignores you. I speak from experience. My own brief marriage to Drusus Caesar was no bed of roses either, but at least in his case it was other women.’

‘And the senior consul prefers other men.’

‘If and when he can get them. Boys would be easier, but Galba doesn’t like boys. He’s not a very nice person, Corvinus. He’s vain, he’s cruel and he may be rich but he’s mean with money. That puts men off as well as women. At least, except those of a certain type or slaves who have no say in the matter.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Yeah, well; in for a penny. And I might not get a better chance. ‘You happen to know anything about one of his exes? At least, he’s probably an ex. A male fluteplayer.’

She gave me a long cool stare. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t.’

I blinked; the lady was palpably lying, and she didn’t care whether I knew it or not. And was I imagining things, or had there been a touch of amusement in her voice?

‘You sure about that?’ I said.

‘Quite sure.’ There was a soft knock on the door and she turned away. ‘That will be Venustus. I think we’d better go. My father hates to be kept waiting.’

Lepidus was sitting at his desk as he had been on the last occasion; in fact, he looked like he’d never moved. The two fixtures, animate and inanimate, could’ve been made for each other, and there wasn’t much visible difference anyway in as much as animation was concerned. If he was surprised to see his daughter with me it didn’t register, and she didn’t offer any explanation. As I crossed the threshold she pushed in ahead of me and draped herself on the reading couch, smoothing her mantle like someone settling to a show. Lepidus ignored her completely.

‘Sit down, Valerius Corvinus,’ he said. ‘You wanted to see me?’

I pulled up a chair. There was no point beating about the bush here. Reaching into my mantle, I took out the note and handed it to him without a word.

He unfolded it and read. I was watching his face closely. Not a muscle twitched. He looked up.

‘So?’ he said.

No inflection; polite interest, no more. Jupiter! Cool was right! No wonder guys like him ruled the world. ‘You know the maid Niobe is dead, sir?’ I said.

‘Yes. I understand she was found yesterday with her throat cut.’

‘You mind my asking how? How you know, I mean?’

‘Yes, I do, actually. Very much so.’ His voice was still level, matter-of-fact. ‘Indeed I find the question in its implications extremely offensive. However, I will tell you anyway. I serve on the same senatorial committee as Fabius Camillus. We had a short meeting earlier this morning, from which I have just returned. Niobe was originally one of our house slaves, and Camillus quite rightly thought I should be informed of her death.’ He laid the note down flat in front of him. ‘Does that satisfy you?’

I swallowed. ‘Yeah. Yeah, that would seem to be in order.’ I indicated the scrap of paper. ‘You admit you wrote that, sir?’

‘You can see my signature at the bottom for yourself. And I’m sure my daughter’ – he didn’t so much as glance in Lepida’s direction – ‘has authenticated it for you.’

‘You care to tell me why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why you asked for a meeting in the first place. Why you chose the Aemilian Hall as a venue instead of going to the House of the Vestals yourself or having Niobe brought here. Why the note was slipped under the side door rather than being brought round to the front and delivered properly.’

He was looking at me like I’d just crawled out of the woodwork. ‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘I don’t believe I do care to tell you any of that, young man, because it’s none of your damned business.’

I glanced at Lepida. She was smiling to herself, clearly keen on not missing a word. Jupiter, the bitch was enjoying this! All she needed were the oranges and the nuts. ‘Sir, listen to me,’ I said. ‘Whether you like it or not I was asked officially to look into the death of the Vestal Cornelia. Niobe’s murder is connected with that death, and the person responsible for one was very likely responsible for the other. The reason Niobe died where and when she did’ – I stopped myself – ‘the probable reason, is that the killer had finally managed to get her out of the House of the Vestals where she couldn’t be touched. Your note served that end. You must see that unless you offer some sort of explanation I can come to only one conclusion.’

‘That is your privilege, Valerius Corvinus.’ His lips formed a hard line. ‘I repeat: the purpose of the meeting and the arrangements I made for it are none of your business.’

I’d had enough of this; more than enough, especially after a session with Lepida. My temper broke. I stood up and set my hands on the desk in front of him to stop myself from grabbing the front of his mantle. ‘Look, you pig-headed bastard!’ I snapped. ‘There are three people dead already, plus your son, and Jupiter knows he’s a victim as much as the others are. I don’t want a fourth body and I want their killer nailed. So why don’t you just come off your fucking high horse and answer the fucking questions?’