David Wishart - Foreign Bodies

OK; that was the case for the defence. The prosecution, now …

The bottom line was that she’d consciously taken up with a guy whose father had had her father flogged, solely for the crime of trying to protect the family’s future. Worse, that he might not have been personally involved – he couldn’t have been that; he’d’ve been too young at the time to join the proconsul’s troop – but he was sure as hell part of the same set-up now, with all that entailed. Also, she’d told me that she hadn’t known who Titus was until the relationship was well established, and that I just found too hard to swallow: according to her father, she’d been working for the Volentus family for nine months before she took up with Titus Cabirus seriously, they were practically neighbours, and in any case Lugdunum was small enough and insular enough for the possibility to be a faint one, at best. While on his side I’d be interested to know if he’d known anything at all about the flogging episode to begin with, before Aia had chosen to tell him …

So where did that leave us? With the original proposition, that was where: that she’d set him up for reasons of her own. And that meant she was still very firmly in the frame. Nothing that I’d seen, or that she’d said, went against that. To what extent Titus himself was involved, mind, was another matter, and that was worrying: slice it how you liked, if Aia was the perp then Titus had to be in on it. Otherwise why the too-coincidental coincidence that he’d bunked off from duty the afternoon of the murder by pretending to be ill? That he certainly hadn’t been, because Diligenta had told me right at the start that he hadn’t been around because he was on duty. And now it transpired that he was with Aia. Where he’d been, of course, was a moot point entirely …

The guy next to me nudged me in the ribs. I turned towards him.

‘Yeah?’ I said. ‘What is it?’

He indicated the scraper at my feet. ‘You want?’ he said.

‘Hmm?’ He pointed to my back. ‘Oh. Oh, right. Thanks, pal.’ That’s the thing about going to the baths on your own; some bits you can’t do for yourself. Still, there’s usually a good-natured punter like Smiling George here who’ll lend a hand. I gave him the scraper and he set to work, hissing through his teeth as he did it, like he was grooming a horse. Cavalryman, obviously.

His mate said something in whatever language they’d been using, and they both laughed.

‘What’s funny?’ I said.

‘My mate say, “Romans no hair. Like baby’s bottom.”’

I grinned. That certainly didn’t apply to those two; I reckoned that they had enough hair on their chests and backs between them for half a dozen cavalry ponies.

‘True,’ I said. ‘Mind you, it saves all that faffing around with curling-tongs.’

That got translated, and they both creased up; yeah, well, auxiliary humour is pretty basic. The guy handed the scraper back to me, and I finished the job on the parts that I could reach.

OK, that was me for the present. Cut it short; best be moving on, or I might miss Titus altogether.

‘Thanks again,’ I said to the horse-groomer. ‘Enjoy the rest of your bath.’

‘Welcome.’

I nodded to the rest of the punters steaming quietly on their benches and went back out into the corridor to check the other rooms. He wasn’t in the dry heat room, nor among the guys hanging around the cold plunge. I took a quick dip to cool off, came out shivering – July it might be, but ‘cold plunge’ was right – and carried on through the portico into the exercise yard.

There he was, sitting on a bench on the other side of the yard talking to a big middle-aged man with an impressive moustache and braided hair; common enough features in Lugdunum, sure, although the Romanized part of the citizenry favoured clean-shaven and short back and sides, but this guy stripped to the buff and with his rippling muscles could’ve modelled for old Vercingetorix himself. When he saw me, Titus broke off the conversation and gave me a wave. The big Gaul glanced in my direction, scowled, got to his feet, and stalked off as I came over. Obviously the outgoing, friendly type.

‘Hello again, Corvinus.’ Titus grinned. ‘Were you looking for me, or did you just fancy slumming it in the public baths with the plebs?’

‘The first, actually.’ I sat next to him. ‘Why did you lie about being on duty the day of your father’s death?’

The grin vanished. ‘I didn’t,’ he said. ‘I was.’

‘Not in the afternoon, you weren’t. I checked the roster. You reported sick.’

Long silence. ‘So?’ he said at last; no friendliness now.

‘So where were you? Not at home, or at least not officially, because your mother was under the impression – she still is – that you were at the procurator’s offices until sundown.’

‘That’s none of your business.’

‘Yes, it is. Mind you, it’s a rhetorical question, because I know damn well you were with your girlfriend Aia.’

He turned to stare at me. ‘How the hell do you know about Aia?’

‘I know. Where did you go together?’

Another long silence. ‘Over to Condate, as it happens.’

Uh-huh. ‘You do this often? Bunk off duty so you can be with your girlfriend?’

‘No!’

‘Why this time, then?’

‘She sent me a message to say that she had the day off. Unexpectedly. The family she works for were eating out. That hardly ever happens, so we took advantage of it. Maybe I was out of line shamming sick, but there wasn’t much on at the time so it was no big deal.’

‘You know about her father? That your father had him flogged a few years back?’

He was getting angry now, and obviously trying to keep it in check. ‘For resisting a sequestration order. Yes. Aia told me. The whole story. What does it matter?’

Well, at least she’d been that much up front. ‘Not to you, maybe,’ I said. ‘But I’d say it gave her a pretty valid reason for holding a grudge against your father, wouldn’t you?’

Titus’s hands clenched into fists.

‘Look, Corvinus,’ he snapped. ‘I’ve had just about enough of this! I told you; it’s none of your business!’

‘And I told you it was,’ I said equably, keeping half an eye on his hands. ‘Which it is, because we’re talking about the time of the murder and you’re lying through your teeth again. I saw Aia earlier this morning. According to her, that day you met her by prearrangement at the Ocean Gate and you went for a walk in the country. The other side of town, in other words, nowhere near Condate. And the Volentus family hadn’t made any alternative dinner arrangements; that afternoon, all she had was a couple of hours free. So one of you is telling porkies, or rather it’s my bet that both of you are. You care to tell me the truth now?’

I thought he’d hit me, and I was ready to block the punch, but he just stood up, his hands clenching and unclenching.

‘Fuck off,’ he said. ‘You just fuck right off and leave me alone, OK?’

I stood up too. ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘When you’ve cooled down, you think about it. Have a word with the girl, talk things over. If you change your mind you know where to find me.’

I left him glaring and went back inside to get changed.

When I reached the residence, it was to find Quintus Cabirus in the conservatory waiting for me. I’d been right about Diligenta tearing a serious strip off him; she’d evidently done it with a vengeance, and the guy looked not so much subdued as walked on all over with hobnailed boots.

‘Afternoon, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘Diligenta thinks I owe you an explanation.’

‘Yeah, well, more of an elucidation, really.’ I sat down opposite him. ‘You were skimming off some of the profits, yes?’