David Wishart - Old Bones

I wasn't expecting what happened next. She took two steps towards me, brought back her fist sideways and slammed me hard across the face. It was like being slugged with a marble column.

'Now you get out of here,' she said quietly.

At least I'd managed to stay on my feet. I felt my jaw. It moved, but it hurt like hell, one of my teeth felt loose and I could taste blood. Jupiter, the lady packed a punch! I'd been socked before, but not often as professionally as that.

'Clusinus was robbing tombs,' I said. 'Or rather a tomb. That's where the bracelets came from. I had this one from a guy called Herminius Bubo's brother in Rome. So how did you get yours?'

'Titus gave me it.' She picked up the eggs. 'I wouldn't touch that slimy bastard Aternius with a barge-pole. Now get off my land, and don't come back.'

Maybe she was lying, but it sounded true. And that clout had carried conviction. Well, maybe I had over-theorised a little here. Still, it was too late to back out now.

I shook my head. 'Not this time, lady,’ I said. ‘That's stolen property you've got there. You can tell me about it, or you can tell the authorities, but you'll have to tell one of us. The difference is the second way you'll be facing a receiving rap, maybe worse.'

She stood glaring at me, her heavy breasts rising and falling above the bowl she was clutching to her stomach. Finally, she nodded.

'All right,' she said. 'So Titus robbed a tomb. He was a crook, but then I knew that. It had nothing to do with anything.'

'Which tomb? Where?'

'How would I know? The bracelet was a gift. You never met Titus. He could be generous when he could afford it. And he obviously thought he could afford it.'

'He never told you?'

'No.'

She was lying, or at least hiding something: there was hesitation there.

'Look, Thupeltha,' I said, 'this is important. I couldn't care less about the bracelet itself, but I have to know where it came from. Clusinus is dead, but I've a fair idea now who killed him and why. And the why has something to do with the tomb; maybe not directly but it's a factor. Anything you can tell me might just pin the guy responsible.'

'Aternius?'

She was sharp, but then I'd always known that. And the way she said the name suggested she didn't like the bastard at all and never had. So much for the conspiracy theory.

'Yeah,' I said. 'Yeah, I think so.'

That got me a long level stare. Then she said:

'Come into the house.'

I followed her inside. She set the bowl of eggs on the kitchen table and disappeared through the door at the back. She was away so long I thought she might have done a runner, but ten minutes later she came back holding something wrapped in a cloth. She handed it to me without a word. I unwrapped it.

It was a drinking cup chased with a hunting scene: that guy whatever-his-name-is being torn apart by his own hounds while Artemis-Minerva watches. The goddess had those lozenge-shaped eyes and that smile you see on really old carvings. And it was gold; solid gold, from the weight. I whistled silently and turned the thing over. There was an inscription on the base, but it was in Etruscan and I couldn't read it. Another job for Priscus.

'Clusinus give you this?' I said.

'He left it with me for safe keeping.' She wasn't looking at me. 'If it'll help you can take it. I don't know anything else.'

'You sure this time?'

'I'm sure. And Corvinus?'

'Yeah?'

'What you said. That hurt. I'm no whore. I told you once that I only took one lover at a time, and I meant it. And none of them's been Gaius Aternius. So watch your mouth in future, understand?'

'Yeah. Right. Thanks, lady.'

I went.

Mother and Priscus were still at breakfast when I got to Nepos's villa, although Nepos himself was out supervising the first stages of the grape harvest.

'Marcus, dear.' Mother put up her cheek to be kissed. She was wearing a light green mantle and a perfume that would've corrupted an octogenarian Chief Priest. 'What on earth are you doing here? I thought you'd all gone to Rome.'

'We did.' I lay down on the third couch and cut myself a piece of cheese. 'We got back last night.'

She stared at me as if I'd grown an extra head. 'But that's silly,' she said. 'No one can spend less than ten days in Rome when they've been away as long as you have, even at this time of year. I mean, really!' She turned to Priscus. 'I'm right, aren't I, Titus?'

'Mmmma?' Priscus was sogging his way through a crust: the guy had perfect teeth, but from the way he ate you wouldn't know it. 'Good morning, my boy. What's that, dear? Marcus going to Rome?'

Mother closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and reached for an olive. 'And I suppose you've dragged poor Perilla and the child back too?' she said to me. 'You have no thought for other people, Marcus, none at all. Sometimes I look back on your upbringing and wonder where I failed.'

Gods! 'Mother,' I said, 'I only have four days before I'm due in court to defend Larth Papatius on a murder rap. I haven't got fu- I haven't got time to mess around in Rome.'

'Oh.' She carefully cut the olive stone out with the point of her knife. 'So that's it, is it? Forgive me. I thought perhaps it had something to do with that silly decision of yours not to go back after Sejanus's family were executed.' I said nothing. 'And it was silly, Marcus, that's the only suitable word. There's no earthly reason for you not to live there. Quite the reverse, in fact, because now the pushy little so-and-so has got his just desserts you're in no danger at all. As for the senate, I can appreciate your feelings, but they can't help it if they're a pack of vacillating, self-serving, vicious-minded idiots. Your father was just the same, if we except the vicious-minded, which for all his faults the poor dear wasn't, and stress the other three qualities.' Ouch. 'And although I do have my reservations about young Gaius Caesar he is almost certain to be our next emperor and you seem to have made quite a hit with him.'

Oh, hell; there had to be a conspiracy here. Everybody I talked to seemed desperate to get me back to Rome. 'Yeah, yeah, right,' I said. 'Look, Mother, do you think we might just bypass the ticking off and get round to why I'm here?'

'If it pleases you.' She sniffed. 'I suppose you must have some reason beyond simple filial courtesy.'

'Fine.' I'd brought out the bracelet and the cup. I handed the bracelet over first. 'Priscus, you want to cast your eye over this for me?'

It was like a rose unbudding. The gods knew what particular plane of reality the guy had been on up until now, but he snapped back as soon as the thing cleared my pouch. He reached across and took it like it was made of gossamer.

'Oh, now,' he said. 'Mmmaaa! This is really rather…' He turned it in his hand. 'It's not from Caere, or not originally. I would guess it was made in Clusium, the work of one of the court goldsmiths, perhaps Velthar Fufluna. Not an apprentice, either; the master himself. Porsennine, of course, in any event. The treatment is quite distinctive. A beautiful piece of work.'

'Porsennine?' I said. 'You mean Porsennine as in Lars Porsenna?' Jupiter in spangles! The thing was five hundred years old!

'Certainly. The uniformity of the granulation, in conjunction with the-'

'Could it have come from one of the Caere tombs?'

He blinked. 'Yes, I suppose so. But no ordinary tomb. This is a very fine piece, very fine indeed. Uniquely so, in my opinion. Where did you find it?'

Instead of answering I handed over the cup. 'There's an inscription on the bottom,' I said.

'Marcus, dear, what..?' Mother began. Then she stopped.

We were both looking at Priscus. The guy had set the bracelet down, taken the cup and turned it. His mouth opened in an O that should've been comical but wasn't. It closed, then opened again.