David Wishart - Foreign Bodies

Was that so, now? ‘OK by me,’ I said, getting up. ‘Excuse me, everyone.’ I followed Bathyllus out. ‘Where can I go, sunshine?’

‘There’s a small sitting room in the east wing, sir. I think that would be suitable. If you’d care to wait there I’ll have him brought.’

Jupiter, this place was a real rabbit warren! ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘Lead on, Bathyllus.’

‘Small’ was a slight over-statement, but in a place like the residence that was understandable. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, and the walls had frescos on them that wouldn’t have been out of place in a formal dining room. A bust of the Wart eyeballed me from a pedestal; the Wart in his younger days, and with the blemishes tactfully edited out: I doubted that the Emperor Tiberius propria persona had been a sculptor’s ideal model even in his twenties. I’d brought my wine-cup with me, and I took another sip or two while I was waiting: I might have Bathyllus on my side, clandestinely, anyway, but the little guy wouldn’t get off with slipping me an extra ration all that often. Goodness knows how the lady latches on to those things, but she does, and it doesn’t do to push your luck.

I waited. Finally, there was a polite knock, the door opened, and Bathyllus came in with the clerk from the office.

‘Silus, sir,’ he said.

‘That’s fine, Bathyllus,’ I said. ‘Leave us alone, OK?’ He went out, closing the door behind him. ‘Now, pal. Sit yourself down and tell me what this is about.’

Not exactly prepossessing, this Silus: pushing sixty, small and podgy, with a few strands of thin hair carefully arranged across his bald scalp.

‘I’ll stand if you don’t mind, sir,’ he said. Add ‘nervous as hell’ to the above.

‘Suit yourself.’ I waited. Nothing. ‘Look, you came to see me. If I’m handling the conversation it’s going to be pretty short.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘This is difficult. Very difficult.’

‘Take your time, sunshine. Take a deep breath, then start wherever you like.’

‘Quintus Cabirus is embezzling the company funds.’

‘ What? ’

‘It’s true, sir. I don’t know how long it’s been going on, and it’s not done on a regular basis, but I’ve known for fully six months now.’

Jupiter! Yeah, well, it was plausible, all right; Diligenta had told me that her brother-in-law managed the sales side of things. Even so-

‘Why tell me?’ I said.

‘Because the master’s dead, sir, and you’re … well, you’re an outsider, and you’re official. I had to tell someone.’

‘Six months is a long time to keep something like that to yourself, friend. And the question still stands: why me, not his widow Diligenta? She’d be the logical one to approach first off.’

‘Sir, I’d already told the master himself, when I was certain, when I’d plucked up the courage, Master Tiberius, just a few days before he died. He told me … he said that he’d take care of it. I don’t know if he did or not; it’s possible, because there’ve been no … irregularities since that I can see. But then of course …’ He stopped, and swallowed.

Right. But then of course someone had stiffed him, and there might well be a connection. No wonder the poor guy was chewing his fingernails down to the knuckle.

Gods!

‘I’ve worried about it ever since. My responsibility is to the family as a whole, it always has been. I couldn’t, in all conscience, continue to keep silent. But I thought that if I took it any further, told the mistress … Well, you must know what I thought.’

Yeah; that if Quintus had murdered his brother to cover things up, and his chief clerk had gone and blabbed to the widow, he might be next on the list. Particularly if he could provide chapter and verse.

‘So you decided you’d tell me instead?’ I said. ‘To be on the safe side?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You’re absolutely cast-iron sure about this?’

‘Oh, yes. I deal with the customer invoices and receipts. There’s sometimes been a discrepancy between them and the final record of takings that Master Quintus enters into the monthly books; not a huge amount each time, and as I say not on any sort of regular basis, but it’s mounted up to quite a sum since the beginning of the financial year.’

‘So how much are we talking about, in total?’

‘Since January, sir, when I first began to check, about five thousand sesterces.’

I whistled: five thousand in six months doubled up made ten thousand a year. Multiplied by however many years the scam had been operating and Silus didn’t know about. Brother Quintus had built himself up quite a nest-egg. And as a motive for murder, it’d run, easy. Sure it would.

‘You can prove it?’ I said.

‘Oh, yes. I made copies of the relevant documents. Two sets. I gave one to Master Tiberius and kept the other. That, I still have.’

‘Fair enough. You hang on to them for the present, pal, and leave things with me.’ I stood up. ‘Thanks for coming.’

‘You’re welcome, sir. It’s a great relief to know that someone else knows.’ He hesitated. ‘You won’t tell Master Quintus, will you? That I told you?’

‘Absolutely not. You’re out of it, as far as I can manage, I promise you that.’ How I was going to keep the promise, mind, was another matter; but we’d cross that bridge when we came to it. ‘Thanks for coming.’

He left. Shit, what did I do now?

Go back to the conservatory, for a start.

Nerva and Caninia had left, and Perilla was there on her own. ‘Well, Marcus?’ she said. ‘What was that about?’

‘ That was Brother Quintus’s chief clerk,’ I said. ‘To say Quintus has had his hand in the till for an indefinite period.’

She stared at me. ‘ What? ’

‘Yeah, that was my reaction, too. Interesting development, right? And it turns out that Cabirus knew. As of a few days before his death, that is.’

‘Ah.’

‘“Ah” is right.’ I sat down. ‘So we have a new principal suspect.’

‘What are you going to do?’

I shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I could face him with it, of course, but then I’d have to say where the information came from, and I don’t want to do that at present. Or I could go to Diligenta. Technically, it’s her business, not mine; with her husband dead, she’s the other half of the company. And although it’s motive for murder, embezzlement isn’t actual proof, as such. So that’s what I’ll probably do: it’s her shout, after all, hers and her sons’. The guy may be a crook, but he’s still family.’

‘Is it possible that Quintus could’ve done it? In practical terms, I mean.’

‘Sure. No problem. He’d know Cabirus’s routine, and where he’d be that afternoon, plus that it wasn’t likely that anyone would be around to see him come and go. And if he has an alibi it’s the one he gave me himself when I asked him, that he’d stayed at home with a cold that day. Very convenient, in retrospect. I could go to his house, check with the bought or hired help, but there’d be no guarantee that I’d get a truthful answer. Probably not, if he’s primed them, like he probably has if he’s telling porkies.’ I was frowning. ‘I wonder if Titus knew? Or suspected?’

‘That he was the killer? Why should he?’

‘No, not that. Just that he was a wrong ’un. In himself, I mean. Young Titus has a head on his shoulders. And it might explain the coolness latterly between him and both his uncle and his father. If he’d found out somehow, and tried to convince Cabirus-’

‘But you said Titus had nothing to do with the wine business. How could he possibly know?’

‘Yeah, fair point. It was just an idea. Besides, Nerva gave me the name of another source of information on the family. One of the current chief magistrates, Julius Biracus. I’ll go and see him as well tomorrow.’ I’d been nursing what little wine was left in my wine-cup. I swallowed it at a gulp. ‘See what he has to say.’