David Wishart - Foreign Bodies

‘Right. Ah. Chances are, the relationship is a set-up, and was from the start; she engineered it for reasons of her own. Which means that she’s a prime candidate for our perp.’

‘Oh, Marcus! That’s going just a bit too far, surely.’

‘Not at all. At least, not in my book. It makes sense, anyway, particularly if Titus knows nothing about the flogging part of things, which I’ll bet you he doesn’t. He’s never met the father himself, that’s for sure, so he’d have no reason to unless she told him off her own bat.’

‘Have you talked to her yet?’

‘No. But her father says she’s a maid or some such with a family by the name of Volentus, who’re practically neighbours to the Cabiri. I was planning on going round there tomorrow.’

‘My, you have had a busy day.’

I grinned. ‘I’m not finished yet, lady. Take it in order. When I was at Diligenta’s I had another talk, if you can call it that, with young Publius. Upstairs in his room, which is where he spends most of his time.’

‘Yes?’

‘Point is, he has a big work-table right under the window overlooking the garden, and when he’s working on his models that’s where he sits, facing the window itself. OK; so say on the afternoon of the murder Publius wasn’t asleep like he and his mother claimed. Say he decided to stay awake and work on the models instead.’

‘Then he couldn’t possibly have missed anyone going into or coming out of the garden.’

‘Right. Oh, sure, it’s not hundred per cent certain: the kid’s a complete geek where his hobby’s concerned, and that type tend to ignore the rest of the world when they’re absorbed in whatever they’re doing. But when I asked him if he’d gone to bed with the window-shutters open it fazed him for a moment before he told me he’d closed them; so my bet is that he wasn’t asleep at all, that he saw someone or something, and that he’s covering.’

‘Who could he have seen?’

‘Yeah, well, that’s the interesting part. I mentioned Titus straight after, and he froze up.’

‘ Titus ?’

‘Like I say: interesting, yes? Only then when I went on to ask him whether he knew of any difference of opinion recently between Titus and his father that might’ve soured their relationship he seemed to relax.’

‘So.’ Perilla was still twisting the lock of hair. ‘You think Publius might have seen his brother. In the garden. At the time when their father was killed.’

‘Yeah. That’s about the sum of it.’

‘Oh, Marcus!’

I shrugged. ‘It’s only a theory, sure. What possible reason Titus might have for killing his father – and I admit that it’d have to be a real biggie – I’ve no idea. But it fits the facts as we know them, or at least one interpretation of them. He was on duty that day, or so he claimed. That much I can check, which I will, tomorrow.’

‘Things seem to be revolving round Titus at the moment, don’t they?’

‘So I’ve noticed. Still-’

‘What else did you get?’

‘Ah. That was Biracus again. Right at the end of the conversation he did a Lentulus.’

‘How do you mean, dear?’

‘You know how the old bugger suddenly comes out with an irrelevance that he knows damn well isn’t irrelevant at all, quite the reverse, but doesn’t want to tell you as much in so many words?’

‘No, Marcus, I don’t, not from personal experience. I’ve hardly ever spoken to Cornelius Lentulus, and when I have the conversation has revolved round dinner parties he’s attended and the various forms of entertainment thereat. Usually embarrassingly so.’

I grinned; that was Lentulus, all right. And I’d always had a sneaking suspicion that, on the few occasions he and Perilla had met, he’d gone out of his way to wind the lady up. Nubian contortionist dancing girls with tame pythons came to mind. ‘Yeah, well, he does,’ I said. ‘Which is what Biracus did. For a start, he asked me out of the blue if I’d met Claudilla when I was at the Cabirus place.’

‘Who’s Claudilla?’

‘Exactly. She’s the daughter, the youngest of the three, and she shouldn’t figure at all, because she’s been away in Arausio since before the murder, staying with a friend there who’s due to have a baby.’

‘And?’

‘That’s the puzzling thing. Biracus claimed that he’d forgotten. What’s more, that he couldn’t remember the friend’s name. He made a point of it, too.’

‘You’ve lost me. What possible bearing could that have on-?’

‘I told you. It was a classic Lentulus ploy. Lentulus doesn’t forget things; you know they call him the Elephant down at the Senate House?’

‘I thought that was because of his size.’

‘Yeah, that as well, but still. And I’d bet Biracus is the same. It was quite deliberate.’

‘To what end?’

‘I’ve been thinking about that, and the way he said it. My guess is the story was a fabrication on the family’s part to avoid a scandal; that the girl had got herself pregnant and they’d sent her to Arausio for the duration.’

‘Oh, Marcus! That is pure wild speculation, and you know it!’

‘Of course it is. No argument. But it fits, and it’s standard procedure in these circumstances, right?’

‘Perhaps it is. Even so, true or not, it’s no concern of yours. Or it shouldn’t be.’

‘Hang on, lady. I’m not finished. Biracus went on to drop another name. A guy called Julius Vindus. He’s a friend of the family’s, specifically of young Titus’s, and like him he’s one of Procurator Laco’s men. Furthermore, he’s Julius Oppianus’s nephew.’

‘Ah.’ She took a contemplative sip of her barley water. ‘And you think this Vindus might be the child’s father?’

‘It’s a fair bet.’

‘So what does this have to do with Cabirus’s murder?’

‘Come on, Perilla! Use your head! I haven’t worked out the whys and wherefores yet, but it’s another link, isn’t it? Oppianus has enough of a down on the Cabirus family already; how do you think he’d feel if he found out that not only was a nephew of his interested in the daughter but that the relationship had gone the length of a pregnancy?’

‘Hmm.’ She twisted a lock of her hair. ‘Yes, I see. It still wouldn’t explain why he would stick a knife into her father, though, does it?’

‘It would if Cabirus had found out who was responsible and was forcing a marriage. That’d do it, in spades.’

‘Maybe. But he’d approach Vindus’s father, surely, not his uncle.’

‘Vindus doesn’t have one, or at least that was Biracus’s implication. He said that the guy was Oppianus’s ward.’

‘Ah,’ she said again. ‘In that case perhaps he would have a motive.’

‘Sweet holy Jupiter, lady! How much more do you want?’

‘Yes, I’m sorry, Marcus. You’re quite right, of course; it’s a perfectly valid theory.’

‘Thank you.’

‘So what are you going to do now?’

‘Find Vindus and face him with it. That should be easy enough; like I say, he’ll be stationed at the procurator’s office, and I was meaning to go down there tomorrow anyway. Then have another word with Julius Oppianus. If I can-’

Bathyllus buttled in. ‘Dinner, sir,’ he said. He buttled out again.

Short and sweet. Perilla and I exchanged glances.

‘He seems to have taken your instructions to heart,’ Perilla said.

‘So it would appear.’ I grinned. Ah, well, I doubted if the miff would last all that long; it took a lot to cramp Bathyllus’s style.

Tomorrow was another day. We went through to dinner.

I was off straight after breakfast the next morning. First stop the procurator’s offices down the Hinge.