David Wishart - Old Bones

We made the return trip next day.

That bracelet of Thupeltha's was preying on my mind the whole journey. Yeah, the natural assumption was that she'd got it from Clusinus as a love-gift, but I had reservations about that explanation: the lady had said herself that there'd been nothing between the two but sex, and if both parties had been happy with that arrangement, which they seemed to have been, then love-gifts just didn't figure. Also, like I'd noticed at the time, the thing was worth serious money. I hadn't known Clusinus when the guy was a viable proposition, but from what I'd heard about him he didn't seem the kind to throw pricey presents around. Added to which with Larth Papatius growling away in the background it was in his interests to keep his affair with Thupeltha low-key.

So if not from Clusinus then where had she got it? Not from Bubo; as far as I knew there was no connection there, and in any case I couldn't see that sharp entrepreneurial bastard dishing out gold bracelets either, especially when he already had a girlfriend who'd no doubt show herself more than usually grateful for a snazzy piece of jewellery like that. And why should Bubo give Thupeltha a present of any kind?

The only other candidate was Gaius Aternius.

Sure, the Owl had said he wasn't involved in the tomb-robbing scam, and if Clusinus hadn't needed anyone to watch his back as far as the militia were concerned then he didn't have a role to play there anyway. Still, like I'd said that was no reason for scrubbing him out of the picture altogether. If he wanted Navius dead, which he did, and a suitable fall-guy to frame for the killing, which he also did, then Clusinus was as good as any and far better than most, and the connection between them still held. At the same time, Clusinus had his own scam cooking with the tomb-robbing angle, and in his free moments he was screwing Thupeltha. So. Let's put Aternius, Thupeltha, Clusinus, the tomb and the murders together and see what came up.

The first point was the lady's credibility, or rather lack of it. I'd rate Thupeltha's honesty and frankness quotient pretty low now, if not at absolute zero. She knew about the tomb, sure she did: the fact that she had the bracelet alone proved that, because you don't find these things at your friendly local jeweller's. Which meant either that Clusinus had told her or she'd found out about it some other way. And if Thupeltha knew about the tomb then we were looking at a whole new ball game.

Second there was her susceptibility where men were concerned. I didn't like Aternius myself, but the guy obviously had an attraction for women: he'd hooked Sicinia Rufina, I'd seen the effect he'd had on Mother and even Perilla had started out on his side. If for reasons of his own Aternius had made a play for Thupeltha then I wouldn't've laid any bets against her having taken him on: Clusinus may've been up to par as a local stud, but the mayor of Caere's nephew would be a real catch.

Okay; so let's work on the assumption that Aternius and Thupeltha are an item, and that they're in this together for their own separate reasons. Or maybe that Aternius is using Thupeltha to further his own schemes. How would it work?

Scenario. Aternius has fixed it with Clusinus to get rid of Navius as per the theory. Now what he has to do is to set up the actual murder so that Clusinus is sure to take the rap. The problem is that both the prospective victim and the prospective killer are free agents. He has to bring them together at a place and time of his own choosing without either of them knowing they've been manoeuvred, whereupon things will take their natural course; and that's tricky.

The answer's Thupeltha. With her on the team the problem disappears because Thupeltha's got an in with both Navius and Clusinus and she can swing the deal without arousing either guy's suspicions. On the chosen day she arranges a meeting with each of them separately, but for the same place and the same time; not in the holm-oak grove, like she said, but further up the track. She goes as far as the grove and hides in the bushes while Navius goes past. Then she waits for long enough to fit in with the story she'll tell later about talking to Navius and sets off home. Meanwhile Navius has met with Clusinus, who chops him according to contract and leaves the scene of the crime. At which point Priscus strolls up unexpectedly, does his bit with the knife and junks Aternius's whole plan for him.

So far so good, and it fitted the facts as well as anything else did. Now for the cover-up.

Thupeltha's running scared. Clusinus doesn't know about her connection with Aternius, but he knows damn well that she's lied and is lying about the grove being the meeting point, and soon he's going to start wondering why, which neither she nor Aternius want. According to the original plan it wouldn't've mattered because he'd already be behind bars and to have raised the point would've put the noose round his neck faster than he could spit, but now he isn't even on the list. Nevertheless, both he and she know he did the killing. So she talks it over with Aternius. They decide that to give them breathing space she'll offer, out of the goodness of her heart, to do Clusinus a favour: she'll tell the world that Navius left her vowing suicide.

For Aternius it's only a stopgap, sure: Clusinus knows too much to live. The problem is, he's already been tagged as the honest citizen who reports a murder, and first impressions are hard to shift. So instead of being zeroed by judicial process he has to be killed personally, and that's a bummer because as soon as it happens people will start thinking again in terms of foul play. Luckily this smartass Roman comes up with the perfect theory which lets him pin both killings on Thupeltha's husband Larth Papatius…

That was the stumbling block. Sure, the marriage was no marriage at all in the real sense, and Thupeltha was a cold bitch, but was she cold enough to stand by and see her husband set up for a murder he hadn't committed? Because this, if anywhere, was where the bracelet had come in. I remembered her telling me categorically the morning Papatius had been arrested that the guy hadn't done it; telling me , not Aternius, and that was the point. Him she hadn't spoken to at all. She hadn't said a word, in fact, from the moment we came in to the time they'd left taking her husband with them, and maybe that had been significant. Jupiter knew how Aternius had found out about Clusinus's tomb – maybe he'd known all along, or maybe he'd forced the information out of the guy before he'd killed him – but if the theory was right Thupeltha had traded her husband's life for a cut of the deal, and that I just didn't like to think about.

Yeah. It was all possible, sure. Whether it was true was another matter. What was certainly true was that I'd have to have another talk with Thupeltha.

The day after we got back was another one of these close, thundery ones with lightning flickering in the hills to the east. The rains couldn't be far off now. I had an early breakfast and set off into Vetuliscum. I'd got the Owl's bracelet in my pouch to show Priscus in the hopes that he might be able to tell me about it, maybe even suggest a tomb it might've come from.

I called in at Thupeltha's first. She was in the yard round the side of the wine shop, collecting eggs. Pleased to see me was something the lady wasn't.

'Corvinus.' She straightened. She was still wearing the bracelet. It winked at me in the sunlight. 'I thought you were in Rome.'

'I was. I found this.' I pulled out the Owl's bracelet. 'Snap.'

She looked at it, then slowly set the bowl down and wiped her hands on her tunic. 'So?' she said.

If I'd thought she'd show some signs of guilt I was disappointed. Cold was right. I pushed a bit harder. 'Who did you get yours from, Thupeltha? Gaius Aternius? And why did he give you it?'