David Wishart - Foreign Bodies

‘Thanks for your help, sir,’ I said.

‘You’re welcome.’ Then, as I was turning to go, ‘Incidentally, Corvinus, did you happen to bump into young Claudilla when you were at Tiberius’s house? That’s the daughter, of course.’

‘No, I didn’t,’ I said. ‘Her mother told me she was on a visit to a friend in Arausio.’

He made a tssk! of annoyance. ‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘Silly of me. I’d forgotten. The new baby. What was the friend’s name again?’

‘Diligenta didn’t say.’ I was frowning. ‘Why should I have needed to-?’

‘Can’t recall who the girl was myself, either. I’ve a mind like a sieve, you know, and it gets worse as I grow older. Take my advice, boy, and stick at the age you are.’ He chuckled. ‘Oh, one more name, off the top of my head, before it slips my memory altogether. Julius Vindus.’

‘Who?’

‘He’s an officer in the procurator’s guard. Also, Julius Oppianus’s nephew and ward, and a good friend of Titus Cabirus’s. In fact, they go hunting together quite often, up in the mountains.’

‘Is that so, now? What does he-?’

‘That’s right. Just a suggestion, naturally.’ He took another long pull at his beer. ‘Good to have met you, Corvinus. It’s nice to see a new face, even under these unpleasant circumstances.’

‘Ah … right. Right.’ I was feeling sorely puzzled. ‘Thanks again, sir.’

‘Don’t mention it. My pleasure, any time. As I said, Tiberius was a good friend, both to me and the city. If you can catch the man who killed him then good luck to you.’

‘Oh, incidentally,’ I said. ‘One last question on my side.’

‘Yes?’

‘Julius Oppianus. He liable to be chosen as Cabirus’s replacement for the Altar ceremony?’

‘I’d imagine so. Certainly he’s by far the most likely possibility.’

Bland as hell.

‘Thanks again,’ I said, and left.

After that little interview, I needed time to think, badly. Not immediately, though; I had to talk to Diligenta first. That was something I wasn’t looking forward to, but it couldn’t be put off.

The servant-girl – Cotuinda, wasn’t it? – was sweeping the porch when I arrived.

‘The mistress in?’ I said.

‘Yes, sir.’ She leaned the brush against the wall and flicked a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. ‘She’s in the kitchen having a word with the cook about lunch. If you’ll wait in the living room I’ll go and fetch her.’

I followed her inside.

‘Have a seat. She shouldn’t be long.’ The girl carried on through to the back part of the house. I sat down in one of the wicker chairs.

Sure enough, it was only a minute or so before Diligenta herself came through.

‘Valerius Corvinus,’ she said. ‘I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. Was there something you forgot to ask?’

‘Uh … no, not exactly.’ Hell; this was going to be tricky. Still, there was no sense in faffing around, and none in covering up the details, either. ‘There’ve been certain developments. I had a visit from your chief clerk Silus yesterday.’

‘Silus? What on earth would he want to see you about?’

‘He, ah, told me that your brother-in-law has been fiddling the accounts. Helping himself to the company money.’

She sat down opposite me. ‘You’re joking!’ she said.

‘Not at all.’

She was quiet for a long time. ‘You’re sure?’ she said at last. ‘I mean, Silus is sure?’

‘Absolutely. He has documentary proof. Or so he said.’

‘And how long has this been going on for?’

‘Silus didn’t know. At least six months, but possibly – probably – a lot longer.’

‘I see.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘Why didn’t he come to me directly? Or, if it was that long ago when he found out, to Tiberius? That would have been the sensible thing.’

This was the really difficult bit, and there was no way of getting round it.

‘Actually, he did,’ I said. ‘Tell your husband, I mean. Just before he died.’

Silence; long silence. Diligenta hadn’t looked up.

Then: ‘Quintus is not a killer,’ she said. I didn’t answer. She raised her eyes and looked at me directly. ‘I’m telling you, Corvinus. I’m totally sure of that. Quintus did not murder Tiberius; he hasn’t got it in him. Besides, why should he? They were a good partnership, they each had their separate role to play and they complemented each other. The business was doing well, and it was for that very reason. Quintus would have been a fool to spoil things.’

‘Yeah, well, maybe he had no choice. If his brother had found out, which he had-’

‘Tiberius wouldn’t have done anything drastic. Oh, he would have been shocked, certainly, and gravely disappointed. There would have been words, probably strong words, but they were brothers, after all. The matter would’ve been resolved amicably in the end, somehow or other; Quintus would know that. How much money are we actually talking about?’

‘Silus said a total of five thousand sesterces. That’s only since January, mind.’

‘Not an absolute fortune, then. Oh, it’s a lot, I don’t deny that. But as I said the business was doing well, even so. It’s not as if he was bleeding us dry.’

I didn’t believe this; it sounded like she was actually defending him.

‘Look, Diligenta,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry, but I’d’ve thought you’d be more-’

‘Outraged? Censorious?’ She smiled weakly. ‘I’m angry, yes; of course I am. Angry, surprised, and, as Tiberius would have been, shocked and very, very disappointed. But as I said – as Tiberius himself would have said – Quintus is family, and that makes all the difference in the world. Thank you for telling me, Valerius Corvinus. Leave it with me, I’ll take care of it.’ Yeah; more or less what Silus said Cabirus had told him, two months back. Well, I supposed it was fair enough; like I’d told Perilla, it was the lady’s business, not mine, and I’d faithfully passed the message on.

I’d keep an open mind where embezzlement as a motive for murder was concerned, mark you.

Diligenta stood up. ‘Now, if that’s all for the present-’ she said.

‘Actually, no. Although the other thing’s curiosity more than anything else.’

‘Curiosity?’ She sat down again.

‘I’ve just been talking to Julius Biracus.’

‘Yes?’

‘About … well, about various things. But he talked about when you and your husband – and Quintus, of course – came down from Augusta twenty years back.’

She smiled. ‘Forgive me, but there’s nothing to be curious about in that. You knew we were from there to begin with. In fact, we talked about it.’

‘Yeah, I know, but according to you it was purely a business move on your husband’s part. Biracus seemed to think it had more to do with the troubles following the Florus revolt.’ Not exactly true, in fact verging on a complete porky, but I thought a little embroidery might well be justified here. ‘He also told me something more about that brother of yours who I think you mentioned; Licnus, was that his name?’

The smile had disappeared, and her lips were set in a straight line. ‘Licnus. That’s right.’

‘He gave me the distinct impression that he’d been involved on the wrong side. Florus’s side. And that you and he had been pretty close.’

There was a long pause. Finally:

‘Biracus,’ she said quietly, ‘is an old busybody. That’s all in the past; we’re Lugdunans now, and life has moved on. As far as Licnus goes, yes, we were close – we were sister and brother, after all – but I haven’t seen him since we moved. In fact, I seem to remember telling you that after my marriage I lost touch with both my brother and my sister. Or am I wrong?’